Martin Chuzzlewit - Penn State University

Life and Adventuresof MartinChuzzlewitbyCharles Dickens

Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens is a publication of The ElectronicClassics Series. This Portable Document file is furnished free and without any charge of anykind. Any person using this document file, for any purpose, and in any way does so at hisor her own risk. Neither the Pennsylvania State University nor Jim Manis, Editor, nor anyoneassociated with the Pennsylvania State University assumes any responsibility for thematerial contained within the document or for the file as an electronic transmission, in anyway.Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens, The Electronic Classics Series,Jim Manis, Editor, PSU-Hazleton, Hazleton, PA 18202 is a Portable Document File producedas part of an ongoing publication project to bring classical works of literature, in English, tofree and easy access of those wishing to make use of them.Jim Manis is a faculty member of the English Department of The Pennsylvania State University.This page and any preceding page(s) are restricted by copyright. The text of the following pagesare not copyrighted within the United States; however, the fonts used may be.Cover Design: Jim ManisCopyright © 2000 - 2013The Pennsylvania State University is an equal opportunity university.

Life andAdventures ofMartin ChuzzlewitPREFACEbyCharles DickensWHAT IS EXAGGERATION to one class of minds and perceptions,is plain truth to another. That which is commonly called along-sight, perceives in a prospect innumerable features andbearings non-existent to a short-sighted person. I sometimesask myself whether there may occasionally be a difference ofCharles Dickensthis kind between some writers and some readers; whether itis always the writer who colours highly, or whether it is nowand then the reader whose eye for colour is a little dull?On this head of exaggeration I have a positive experience,more curious than the speculation I have just set down. It isthis: I have never touched a character precisely from the life,but some counterpart of that character has incredulously askedme: “Now really, did I ever really, see one like it?”All the Pecksniff family upon earth are quite agreed, I believe,that Mr. Pecksniff is an exaggeration, and that no suchcharacter ever existed. I will not offer any plea on his behalf toso powerful and genteel a body, but will make a remark onthe character of Jonas Chuzzlewit.I conceive that the sordid coarseness and brutality of Jonaswould be unnatural, if there had been nothing in his earlyeducation, and in the precept and example always before him,to engender and develop the vices that make him odious.But, so born and so bred, admired for that which made himhateful, and justified from his cradle in cunning, treachery,and avarice; I claim him as the legitimate issue of the fatherupon whom those vices are seen to recoil. And I submit that3

Martin Chuzzlewittheir recoil upon that old man, in his unhonoured age, is not I had never, in writing fiction, had any disposition to softena mere piece of poetical justice, but is the extreme exposition what is ridiculous or wrong at home, so I then hoped that theof a direct truth.good-humored people of the United States would not be generallydisposed to quarrel with me for carrying the same usageI make this comment, and solicit the reader’s attention to itin his or her consideration of this tale, because nothing is abroad. I am happy to believe that my confidence in thatmore common in real life than a want of profitable reflection great nation was not misplaced.on the causes of many vices and crimes that awaken the generalhorror. What is substantially true of families in this restand,by some authorities, that the Watertoast AssociationWhen this book was first published, I was given to underspect,is true of a whole commonwealth. As we sow, we reap. and eloquence were beyond all bounds of belief. Therefore ILet the reader go into the children’s side of any prison in England,or, I grieve to add, of many workhouses, and judge experiences is a literal paraphrase of some reports of publicrecord the fact that all that portion of Martin Chuzzlewit’swhether those are monsters who disgrace our streets, people proceedings in the United States (especially of the proceedingsof a certain Brandywine Association), which were printedour hulks and penitentiaries, and overcrowd our penal colonies,or are creatures whom we have deliberately suffered to in the Times Newspaper in June and July, 1843—at aboutbe bred for misery and ruin.the time when I was engaged in writing those parts of theThe American portion of this story is in no other respect a book; and which remain on the file of the Times Newspaper,caricature than as it is an exhibition, for the most part (Mr. of course.Bevan expected), of a ludicrous side, only, of the American In all my writings, I hope I have taken every available opportunityof showing the want of sanitary improvements incharacter—of that side which was, four-and-twenty years ago,from its nature, the most obtrusive, and the most likely to be the neglected dwellings of the poor. Mrs. Sarah Gamp was,seen by such travellers as Young Martin and Mark Tapley. As four-and-twenty years ago, a fair representation of the hired4

Charles Dickensattendant on the poor in sickness. The hospitals of London high and grateful sense of my second reception in America,were, in many respects, noble Institutions; in others, very defective.I think it not the least among the instances of their and magnanimity. Also, to declare how astounded I have beenand to bear my honest testimony to the national generositymismanagement, that Mrs. Betsey Prig was a fair specimen by the amazing changes I have seen around me on every side—of a Hospital Nurse; and that the Hospitals, with their means changes moral, changes physical, changes in the amount ofand funds, should have left it to private humanity and enterprise,to enter on an attempt to improve that class of per-cities, changes in the growth of older cities almost out ofland subdued and peopled, changes in the rise of vast newsons—since, greatly improved through the agency of good recognition, changes in the graces and amenities of life, changeswomen.in the Press, without whose advancement no advancementPOSTSCRIPTAT A PUBLIC DINNER given to me on Saturday the 18th ofApril, 1868, in the city of New York, by two hundred representativesof the Press of the United States of America, I madethe following observations, among others:—“So much of my voice has lately been heard in the land,that I might have been contented with troubling you no furtherfrom my present standing-point, were it not a duty withwhich I henceforth charge myself, not only here but on everysuitable occasion, whatsoever and wheresoever, to express mycan take place anywhere. Nor am I, believe me, so arrogant asto suppose that in five-and-twenty years there have been nochanges in me, and that I had nothing to learn and no extremeimpressions to correct when I was here first. And thisbrings me to a point on which I have, ever since I landed inthe United States last November, observed a strict silence,though sometimes tempted to break it, but in reference towhich I will, with your good leave, take you into my confidencenow. Even the Press, being human, may be sometimesmistaken or misinformed, and I rather think that I have inone or two rare instances observed its information to be notstrictly accurate with reference to myself. Indeed, I have, now5

Martin Chuzzlewitand again, been more surprised by printed news that I have republished, as an appendix to every copy of those two booksread of myself, than by any printed news that I have ever read of mine in which I have referred to America. And this I willin my present state of existence. Thus, the vigour and perseverancewith which I have for some months past been collect-but because I regard it as an act of plain justice and honour.”do and cause to be done, not in mere love and thankfulness,ing materials for, and hammering away at, a new book on I said these words with the greatest earnestness that I couldAmerica has much astonished me; seeing that all that time lay upon them, and I repeat them in print here with equalmy declaration has been perfectly well known to my publisherson both sides of the Atlantic, that no consideration on will form a part of it, and will be fairly read as inseparableearnestness. So long as this book shall last, I hope that theyearth would induce me to write one. But what I have intended,what I have resolved upon (and this is the confidencefrom my experiences and impressions of America.I seek to place in you), is, on my return to England, in myCHARLES DICKENS.own person, in my own Journal, to bear, for the behoof ofmy countrymen, such testimony to the gigantic changes inMay, 1868.this country as I have hinted at to-night. Also, to record thatwherever I have been, in the smallest places equally with thelargest, I have been received with unsurpassable politeness,delicacy, sweet temper, hospitality, consideration, and withunsurpassable respect for the privacy daily enforced upon meby the nature of my avocation here and the state of my health.This testimony, so long as I live, and so long as my descendantshave any legal right in my books, I shall cause to be6

CHAPTER ONEINTRODUCTORY,CONCERNING THE PEDIGREEOF THE CHUZZLEWIT FAMILYAS NO LADY OR GENTLEMAN, with any claims to polite breeding,can possibly sympathize with the Chuzzlewit Familywithout being first assured of the extreme antiquity of therace, it is a great satisfaction to know that it undoubtedlydescended in a direct line from Adam and Eve; and was, inthe very earliest times, closely connected with the agriculturalinterest. If it should ever be urged by grudging and maliciouspersons, that a Chuzzlewit, in any period of the family history,displayed an overweening amount of family pride, surelythe weakness will be considered not only pardonable but laudable,when the immense superiority of the house to the restof mankind, in respect of this its ancient origin, is taken intoaccount.It is remarkable that as there was, in the oldest family ofwhich we have any record, a murderer and a vagabond, so weCharles Dickens7never fail to meet, in the records of all old families, withinnumerable repetitions of the same phase of character. Indeed,it may be laid down as a general principle, that the moreextended the ancestry, the greater the amount of violence andvagabondism; for in ancient days those two amusements, combininga wholesome excitement with a promising means ofrepairing shattered fortunes, were at once the ennobling pursuitand the healthful recreation of the Quality of this land.Consequently, it is a source of inexpressible comfort andhappiness to find, that in various periods of our history, theChuzzlewits were actively connected with divers slaughterousconspiracies and bloody frays. It is further recorded of them,that being clad from head to heel in steel of proof, they didon many occasions lead their leather-jerkined soldiers to thedeath with invincible courage, and afterwards return homegracefully to their relations and friends.There can be no doubt that at least one Chuzzlewit cameover with William the Conqueror. It does not appear thatthis illustrious ancestor ‘came over’ that monarch, to employthe vulgar phrase, at any subsequent period; inasmuch as theFamily do not seem to have been ever greatly distinguished

Martin Chuzzlewitby the possession of landed estate. And it is well known that the previous generation, and there intermarried with a Spanishlady, by whom he had issue, one olive-complexioned son.for the bestowal of that kind of property upon his favourites,the liberality and gratitude of the Norman were as remarkableas those virtues are usually found to be in great men confirmed, by a fact which cannot fail to be interesting toThis probable conjecture is strengthened, if not absolutelywhen they give away what belongs to other people. those who are curious in tracing the progress of hereditaryPerhaps in this place the history may pause to congratulate tastes through the lives of their unconscious inheritors. It is aitself upon the enormous amount of bravery, wisdom, eloquence,virtue, gentle birth, and true nobility, that appears to Chuzzlewits, being unsuccessful in other pursuits, have, with-notable circumstance that in these later times, manyhave come into England with the Norman Invasion: an out the smallest rational hope of enriching themselves, or anyamount which the genealogy of every ancient family lends its conceivable reason, set up as coal-merchants; and have, monthaid to swell, and which would beyond all question have been after month, continued gloomily to watch a small stock offound to be just as great, and to the full as prolific in giving coals, without in any one instance negotiating with a purchaser.The remarkable similarity between this course of pro-birth to long lines of chivalrous descendants, boastful of theirorigin, even though William the Conqueror had been Williamthe Conquered; a change of circumstances which, it is vaults of the Parliament House at Westminster, is too obviceedingand that adopted by their Great Ancestor beneath thequite certain, would have made no manner of difference in ous and too full of interest, to stand in need of comment.this respect.It is also clearly proved by the oral traditions of the Family,There was unquestionably a Chuzzlewit in the Gunpowder that there existed, at some one period of its history which isPlot, if indeed the arch-traitor, Fawkes himself, were not a not distinctly stated, a matron of such destructive principles,scion of this remarkable stock; as he might easily have been, and so familiarized to the use and composition of inflammatoryand combustible engines, that she was called ‘The supposing another Chuzzlewit to have emigrated to Spain inMatch8

Charles DickensMaker;’ by which nickname and byword she is recognized in words wrought (as well they might) a strong impression on histhe Family legends to this day. Surely there can be no reasonabledoubt that this was the Spanish lady, the mother of The just interpretation which they bear, and the conclusion tomind, and he was in the habit of repeating them very often.Chuzzlewit Fawkes.which they lead, are triumphant and irresistible. The old lady,But there is one other piece of evidence, bearing immediate naturally strong-minded, was nevertheless frail and fading; shereference to their close connection with this memorable event was notoriously subject to that confusion of ideas, or, to sayin English History, which must carry conviction, even to a the least, of speech, to which age and garrulity are liable. Themind (if such a mind there be) remaining unconvinced by slight, the very slight, confusion apparent in these expressions isthese presumptive proofs.manifest, and is ludicrously easy of correction. ‘Aye, aye,’ quothThere was, within a few years, in the possession of a highly she, and it will be observed that no emendation whatever isrespectable and in every way credible and unimpeachable memberof the Chuzzlewit Family (for his bitterest enemy never This lantern was carried by my forefather’—not fourth son,necessary to be made in these two initiative remarks, ‘Aye, aye!dared to hint at his being otherwise than a wealthy man), a which is preposterous—‘on the fifth of November. And hedark lantern of undoubted antiquity; rendered still more interestingby being, in shape and pattern, extremely like such as are clear, natural, and in strict accordance with the character of thewas Guy Fawkes.’ Here we have a remark at once consistent,in use at the present day. Now this gentleman, since deceased, speaker. Indeed the anecdote is so plainly susceptible of thiswas at all times ready to make oath, and did again and again set meaning and no other, that it would be hardly worth recordingforth upon his solemn asseveration, that he had frequently heard in its original state, were it not a proof of what may be (andhis grandmother say, when contemplating this venerable relic, very often is) affected not only in historical prose but in imaginativepoetry, by the exercise of a little ingenious labour on the‘Aye, aye! This was carried by my fourth son on the fifth ofNovember, when he was a Guy Fawkes.’ These remarkable part of a commentator.9

Martin ChuzzlewitIt has been said that there is no instance, in modern times, stands the proof? When the son of that individual, to whomof a Chuzzlewit having been found on terms of intimacy with the secret of his father’s birth was supposed to have been communicatedby his father in his lifetime, lay upon his death-the Great. But here again the sneering detractors who weavesuch miserable figments from their malicious brains, are bed, this question was put to him in a distinct, solemn, andstricken dumb by evidence. For letters are yet in the possessionof various branches of the family, from which it dis-To which he, with his last breath, no less distinctly, solemnly,formal way: ‘Toby Chuzzlewit, who was your grandfather?’tinctly appears, being stated in so many words, that one and formally replied: and his words were taken down at theDiggory Chuzzlewit was in the habit of perpetually dining time, and signed by six witnesses, each with his name andwith Duke Humphrey. So constantly was he a guest at that address in full: ‘The Lord No Zoo.’ It may be said—it hasnobleman’s table, indeed; and so unceasingly were His Grace’s been said, for human wickedness has no limits—that there ishospitality and companionship forced, as it were, upon him; no Lord of that name, and that among the titles which havethat we find him uneasy, and full of constraint and reluctance;writing his friends to the effect that if they fail to do so to be discovered. But what is the irresistible inference? Reject-become extinct, none at all resembling this, in sound even, isand so by bearer, he will have no choice but to dine again ing a theory broached by some well-meaning but mistakenwith Duke Humphrey; and expressing himself in a very persons, that this Mr Toby Chuzzlewit’s grandfather, to judgemarked and extraordinary manner as one surfeited of High from his name, must surely have been a Mandarin (which isLife and Gracious Company.wholly insupportable, for there is no pretence of his grandmotherever having been out of this country, or of any Man-It has been rumoured, and it is needless to say the rumouroriginated in the same base quarters, that a certain male darin having been in it within some years of his father’s birth;Chuzzlewit, whose birth must be admitted to be involved in except those in the tea-shops, which cannot for a moment besome obscurity, was of very mean and low descent. How regarded as having any bearing on the question, one way or10

Charles Dickensother), rejecting this hypothesis, is it not manifest that Mr (Diggory) would appear to have borrowed or otherwise possessedhimself of: ‘Do not be angry, I have parted with it—toToby Chuzzlewit had either received the name imperfectlyfrom his father, or that he had forgotten it, or that he had my uncle.’ On another occasion he expresses himself in a similarmanner with regard to a child’s mug which had been en-mispronounced it? and that even at the recent period in question,the Chuzzlewits were connected by a bend sinister, or trusted to him to get repaired. On another occasion he says, ‘Ikind of heraldic over-the-left, with some unknown noble and have bestowed upon that irresistible uncle of mine everythingillustrious House?I ever possessed.’ And that he was in the habit of paying longFrom documentary evidence, yet preserved in the family, and constant visits to this gentleman at his mansion, if, indeed,he did not wholly reside there, is manifest from thethe fact is clearly established that in the comparatively moderndays of the Diggory Chuzzlewit before mentioned, one following sentence: ‘With the exception of the suit of clothesof its members had attained to very great wealth and influence.Throughout such fragments of his correspondence as present at my uncle’s.’ This gentleman’s patronage and influ-I carry about with me, the whole of my wearing apparel is athave escaped the ravages of the moths (who, in right of their ence must have been very extensive, for his nephew writes,extensive absorption of the contents of deeds and papers, may ‘His interest is too high’—‘It is too much’—‘It is tremendous’—andthe like. Still it does not appear (which is strange)be called the general registers of the Insect World), we findhim making constant reference to an uncle, in respect of whom to have procured for him any lucrative post at court or elsewhere,or to have conferred upon him any other distinctionhe would seem to have entertained great expectations, as hewas in the habit of seeking to propitiate his favour by presentsof plate, jewels, books, watches, and other valuable ar-of so great a man, and the being invited by him to certainthan that which was necessarily included in the countenanceticles. Thus, he writes on one occasion to his brother in referenceto a gravy-spoon, the brother’s property, which he he calls them ‘Goldenentertainment’s, so splendid and costly in their nature, thatBalls.’11

Martin ChuzzlewitIt is needless to multiply instances of the high and lofty only make themselves apparent in, persons of the very beststation, and the vast importance of the Chuzzlewits, at differentperiods. If it came within the scope of reasonable prob-This history having, to its own perfect satisfaction, (and,condition.ability that further proofs were required, they might be heaped consequently, to the full contentment of all its readers,) provedupon each other until they formed an Alps of testimony, beneathwhich the boldest scepticism should be crushed and one time or other of an importance which cannot fail to ren-the Chuzzlewits to have had an origin, and to have been atbeaten flat. As a goodly tumulus is already collected, and decentlybattened up above the Family grave, the present chap-right-minded individuals, may now proceed in earnest withder them highly improving and acceptable acquaintance to allter is content to leave it as it is: merely adding, by way of a its task. And having shown that they must have had, by reasonof their ancient birth, a pretty large share in the founda-final spadeful, that many Chuzzlewits, both male and female,are proved to demonstration, on the faith of letters written tion and increase of the human family, it will one day becomeits province to submit, that such of its members as shallby their own mothers, to have had chiselled noses, undeniablechins, forms that might have served the sculptor for a be introduced in these pages, have still many counterpartsmodel, exquisitely-turned limbs and polished foreheads of so and prototypes in the Great World about us. At present ittransparent a texture that the blue veins might be seen branchingoff in various directions, like so many roads on an ethe-Firstly, that it may be safely asserted, and yet without imply-contents itself with remarking, in a general way, on this head:real map. This fact in itself, though it had been a solitary one, ing any direct participation in the Manboddo doctrine touchingwould have utterly settled and clenched the business in hand; the probability of the human race having once been monkeys,that men do play very strange and extraordinary tricks.for it is well known, on the authority of all the books whichtreat of such matters, that every one of these phenomena, but Secondly, and yet without trenching on the Blumenbachespecially that of the chiselling, are invariably peculiar to, and theory as to the descendants of Adam having a vast number12

Charles Dickensof qualities which belong more particularly to swine than to bravely, resisting to the last the tyranny of nipping winds andany other class of animals in the creation, that some men early frosts—took heart and brightened up; the stream whichcertainly are remarkable for taking uncommon good care of had been dull and sullen all day long, broke out into a cheerfulsmile; the birds began to chirp and twitter on the nakedthemselves.boughs, as though the hopeful creatures half believed thatwinter had gone by, and spring had come already. The vaneCHAPTER TWOupon the tapering spire of the old church glistened from itslofty station in sympathy with the general gladness; and fromWHEREIN CERTAIN PERSONS ARE PREtheivy-shaded windows such gleams of light shone back uponSENTED TO THE READER, WITH WHOMthe glowing sky, that it seemed as if the quiet buildings wereHE MAY, IF HE PLEASE,the hoarding-place of twenty summers, and all their ruddinessand warmth were stored within.BECOME BETTER ACQUAINTEDEven those tokens of the season which emphatically whisperedof the coming winter, graced the landscape, and, for theIT WAS PRETTY LATE in the autumn of the year, when the decliningsun struggling through the mist which had obscuredmoment, tinged its livelier features with no oppressive air ofit all day, looked brightly down upon a little Wiltshire village,within an easy journey of the fair old town of Salisbury.sadness. The fallen leaves, with which the ground was strewn,gave forth a pleasant fragrance, and subduing all harsh soundsLike a sudden flash of memory or spirit kindling up theof distant feet and wheels created a repose in gentle unisonmind of an old man, it shed a glory upon the scene, in whichwith the light scattering of seed hither and thither by the distanthusbandman, and with the noiseless passage of the ploughits departed youth and freshness seemed to live again. Thewet grass sparkled in the light; the scanty patches of verdureas it turned up the rich brown earth, and wrought a gracefulin the hedges—where a few green twigs yet stood together13

Martin Chuzzlewitpattern in the stubbled fields. On the motionless branches of were silent; and the gloom of winter dwelt on everything.some trees, autumn berries hung like clusters of coral beads, An evening wind uprose too, and the slighter branchesas in those fabled orchards where the fruits were jewels; othersstripped of all their garniture, stood, each the centre of its moaning music. The withering leaves no longer quiet, hur-cracked and rattled as they moved, in skeleton dances, to itslittle heap of bright red leaves, watching their slow decay; ried to and fro in search of shelter from its chill pursuit; theothers again, still wearing theirs, had them all crunched and labourer unyoked his horses, and with head bent down,crackled up, as though they had been burnt; about the stems trudged briskly home beside them; and from the cottage windowslights began to glance and wink upon the darkeningof some were piled, in ruddy mounds, the apples they hadborne that year; while others (hardy evergreens this class) fields.showed somewhat stern and gloomy in their vigour, as charged Then the village forge came out in all its bright importance.The lusty bellows roared Ha ha! to the clear fire, whichby nature with the admonition that it is not to her moresensitive and joyous favourites she grants the longest term of roared in turn, and bade the shining sparks dance gayly to thelife. Still athwart their darker boughs, the sunbeams struck merry clinking of the hammers on the anvil. The gleamingout paths of deeper gold; and the red light, mantling in among iron, in its emulation, sparkled too, and shed its red-hot gemstheir swarthy branches, used them as foils to set its brightness around profusely. The strong smith and his men dealt suchoff, and aid the lustre of the dying day.strokes upon their work, as made even the melancholy nightA moment, and its glory was no more. The sun went down rejoice, and brought a glow into its dark face as it hoveredbeneath the long dark lines of hill and cloud which piled up about the door and windows, peeping curiously in above thein the west an airy city, wall heaped on wall, and battlement shoulders of a dozen loungers. As to this idle company, thereon battlement; the light was all withdrawn; the shining church they stood, spellbound by the place, and, casting now andturned cold and dark; the stream forgot to smile; the birds then a glance upon the darkness in their rear, settled their lazy14

Charles Dickenselbows more at ease upon the sill, and leaned a little further just after venting its humour on the insulted Dragon, did soin: no more disposed to tear themselves away than if they had disperse and scatter them that they fled away, pell-mell, somebeen born to cluster round the blazing hearth like so many here, some there, rolling over each other, whirling round andcrickets.round upon their thin edges, taking frantic flights into theOut upon the angry wind! how from sighing, it began to air, and playing all manner of extraordinary gambols in thebluster round the merry forge, banging at the wicket, and extremity of their distress. Nor was this enough for its maliciousfury; for not content with driving them abroad, itgrumbling in the chimney, as if it bullied the jolly bellows fordoing anything to order. And what an impotent swaggerer it charged small parties of them and hunted them into the wheelwas too, for all its noise; for if it had any influence on that wright’s saw-pit, and below the planks and timbers in thehoarse companion, it was but to make him roar his cheerful yard, and, scattering the sawdust in the air, it looked for themsong the louder, and by consequence to make the fire burn underneath, and when it did meet with any, whew! how itthe brighter, and the sparks to dance more gayly yet; at length, drove them on and followed at their heels!they whizzed so madly round and round, that it was too much The scared leaves only flew the faster for all this, and a giddyfor such a surly wind to bear; so off it flew with a howl giving chase it was; for they got into unfrequented places, wherethe old sign before the ale-house door such a cuff as it went, there was no outlet, and where their pursuer kept them eddyinground and round at his pleasure; and they crept under thethat the Blue Dragon was more rampant than usual ever afterwards,and indeed, before Christmas, reared clean out of eaves of houses, and clung tightly to the sides of hay-ricks,its crazy frame.like bats; and tore in at open chamber windows, and coweredIt was small tyranny for a respectable wind to go wreaking close to hedges; and, in short, went anywhere for safety. Butits vengeance on such poor creatures as the fallen leaves, but the oddest feat they achieved was, to take advantage of thethis wind happening to come up with a great heap of them sudden opening of Mr Pecksniff’s front-door, to dash wildly15

Martin Chuzzlewitinto his passage; whither the wind following close upon them, when Miss Pecksniff opened the door again, and shading theand finding the back-door open, incontinently blew out the candle with her hand, peered out, and looked provokinglylighted candle held by Miss Pecksniff, and slammed the frontdooragainst Mr Pecksniff who was at that moment entering, but at him, did he offer any remark, or indicate in any man-round him, and about him, and over him, and everywherewith such violence, that in the twinkling of an eye he lay on ner the least hint of a desire to be picked up.his back at the bottom of the steps. Being by this time weary ‘I see you,’ cried Miss Pecksniff, to the ideal inflicter of aof such trifling performances, the boisterous rover hurried runaway knock. ‘You’ll catch it, sir!’away rejoicing, roaring over moor and meadow, hill and flat, Still Mr Pecksniff, perhaps from having caught it already,until it got out to sea, where it met with other winds similarlydisposed, and made a night of it.‘You’re round the corner now,’ cried Miss Pecksniff. Shesaid nothing.In the meantime Mr Pecksniff, having received from a sharp said it at a venture, but there was appropriate matter in it too;angle in the bottom step but one, that sort of knock on the for Mr Pecksniff, being in the act of extinguishing the candleshead which lights up, for the patient’s entertainment, an imaginarygeneral illumination of very bright short-sixes, lay plac-of brass knobs on his street door from four or five hundredbefore mentioned pretty rapidly, and of reducing the numberidly staring at his own street door. And it would seem to have (which had previously been juggling of their own accord beforehis eyes in a very novel manner) to a dozen or so, mightbeen more suggestive in its aspect than street doors usuallyare; for he continued to lie there, rather a lengthy and unreasonabletime, without so much as wondering whether he was and just turning it.in one sense have been said to be coming round the corner,hurt or no; neither, when Miss Pecksniff inquired through With a sharply delivered warning relative to the cage andthe key-hole in a shrill voice, which might have belonged to a the constable, and the stocks and the gallows, Miss Pecksniffwind in its teens, ‘Who’s there’ did he make any reply; nor, was about to close the door again, when Mr Pecksniff (being16

Charles Dickensstill at the bottom of the steps) raised himself on one elbow, cheek; and bore him into the house. Presently, the youngestand sneezed.Miss Pecksniff ran out again to pick up his hat, his brown‘That voice!’ cried Miss Pecksniff. ‘My parent!’paper parcel, his umbrella, his gloves, and other small articles;At this exclamation, another Miss Pecksniff bounced out and that done, and the door closed, both young ladies appliedthemselves to tending Mr Pecksniff’s wounds in theof the parlour; and the two Miss Pecksniffs, with many incoherentexpressions, dragged Mr Pecksniff into an upright posture.They were not very serious in their nature; being limited toback parlour.‘Pa!’ they cried in concert. ‘Pa! Speak, Pa! Do not look so abrasions on what the eldest Miss Pecksniff called ‘the knobbywild my dearest Pa!’parts’ of her parent’s anatomy, such as his knees and elbows,But as a gentleman’s looks, in such a case of all others, are and to the development of an entirely new organ, unknownby no means under his own control, Mr Pecksniff continued to phrenologists, on the back of his head. These injuries havingbeen comforted externally, with patches of pickled brownto keep his mouth and his eyes very wide open, and to drophis lower jaw, somewhat after the manner of a toy nut-cracker; paper, and Mr Pecksniff having been comforted internally,and as his hat had fallen off, and his face was pale, and his hair with some stiff brandy-and-water, the eldest Miss Pecksnifferect, and his coat muddy, the spectacle he presented was so sat down to make the tea, which was all ready. In the meantimethe youngest Miss Pecksniff brought from the kitchen avery doleful, that neither of the Miss Pecksniffs could repressan involuntary screech.smoking dish of ham and eggs, and, setting the same before‘That’ll do,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘I’m better.’her father, took up her station on a low stool at his feet; thereby‘He’s come to himself!’ cried the youngest Miss Pecksniff. bringing her eyes on a level with the teaboard.‘He speaks again!’ exclaimed the eldest.It must not be inferred from this position of humility, thatWith these joyful words they kissed Mr Pecksniff on either the youngest Miss Pecksniff was so young as to be, as one17

Martin Chuzzlewitmay say, forced to sit upon a stool, by reason of the shortness souled Being as the youngest Miss Pecksniff! Her sister’s nameof her legs. Miss Pecksniff sat upon a stool because of her was Charity. There was a good thing! Mercy and Charity!simplicity and innocence, which were very great, very great. And Charity, with her fine strong sense and her mild, yet notMiss Pecksniff sat upon a stool because she was all girlishness, reproachful gravity, was so well named, and did so well setand playfulness, and wildness, and kittenish buoyancy. She off and illustrate her sister! What a pleasant sight was that thewas the most arch and at the same time the most artless creature,was the youngest Miss Pecksniff, that you can possibly pathizing with, and devoted to, and leaning on, and yet cor-contrast they presented; to see each loved and loving one sym-imagine. It was her great charm. She was too fresh and guileless,and too full of child-like vivacity, was the youngest Miss other! To behold each damsel in her very admiration of herrecting and counter-checking, and, as it were, antidoting, thePecksniff, to wear combs in her hair, or to turn it up, or to sister, setting up in business for herself on an entirely differentfrizzle it, or braid it. She wore it in a crop, a loosely flowing principle, and announcing no connection with over-the-way,crop, which had so many rows of curls in it, that the top row and if the quality of goods at that establishment don’t pleasewas only one curl. Moderately buxom was her shape, and you, you are respectfully invited to favour ME with a call!quite womanly too; but sometimes—yes, sometimes—she And the crowning circumstance of the whole delightful cataloguewas, that both the fair creatures were so utterly uncon-even wore a pinafore; and how charming that was! Oh! shewas indeed ‘a gushing thing’ (as a young gentleman had observedin verse, in the Poet’s Corner of a provincial newspa-or dreamed of it than Mr Pecksniff did. Nature played themscious of all this! They had no idea of it. They no more thoughtper), was the youngest Miss Pecksniff!off against each other; they had no hand in it, the two MissMr Pecksniff was a moral man—a grave man, a man of Pecksniffs.noble sentiments and speech—and he had had her christened It has been remarked that Mr Pecksniff was a moral man.Mercy. Mercy! oh, what a charming name for such a pure-So he was. Perhaps there never was a more moral man than18

Charles DickensMr Pecksniff, especially in his conversation and correspondence.It was once said of him by a homely admirer, that he his plain black suit, and state of widower and dangling doubleSo did his manner, which was soft and oily. In a word, evenhad a Fortunatus’s purse of good sentiments in his inside. In eye-glass, all tended to the same purpose, and cried aloud,this particular he was like the girl in the fairy tale, except that ‘Behold the moral Pecksniff!’if they were not actual diamonds which fell from his lips, The brazen plate upon the door (which being Mr Pecksniff’s,they were the very brightest paste, and shone prodigiously. could not lie) bore this inscription, ‘Pecksniff, Architect,’ toHe was a most exemplary man; fuller of virtuous precept which Mr Pecksniff, on his cards of business, added, and Landthan a copy book. Some people likened him to a directionpost,which is always telling the way to a place, and never been a Land Surveyor on a pretty large scale, as an extensiveSurveyor.’ In one sense, and only one, he may be said to havegoes there; but these were his enemies, the shadows cast by prospect lay stretched out before the windows of his house.his brightness; that was all. His very throat was moral. You Of his architectural doings, nothing was clearly known, exceptthat he had never designed or built anything; but it wassaw a good deal of it. You looked over a very low fence ofwhite cravat (whereof no man had ever beheld the tie for he generally understood that his knowledge of the science wasfastened it behind), and there it lay, a valley between two almost awful in its profundity.jutting heights of collar, serene and whiskerless before you. It Mr Pecksniff’s professional engagements, indeed, were almost,if not entirely, confined to the reception of pupils; forseemed to say, on the part of Mr Pecksniff, ‘There is no deception,ladies and gentlemen, all is peace, a holy calm pervadesme.’ So did his hair, just grizzled with an iron-grey which varied and relieved his graver toils, can hardly be said to be athe collection of rents, with which pursuit he occasionallywas all brushed off his forehead, and stood bolt upright, or strictly architectural employment. His genius lay in ensnaringslightly drooped in kindred action with his heavy eyelids. So parents and guardians, and pocketing premiums. A youngdid his person, which was sleek though free from corpulency. gentleman’s premium being paid, and the young gentleman19

Martin Chuzzlewitcome to Mr Pecksniff’s house, Mr Pecksniff borrowed his said Mr Pecksniff, glancing round the table when he had finished,‘even cream, sugar, tea, toast, ham—’case of mathematical instruments (if silver-mounted or otherwisevaluable); entreated him, from that moment, to considerhimself one of the family; complimented him highly ‘And eggs,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘even they have their moral.‘And eggs,’ suggested Charity in a low voice.on his parents or guardians, as the case might be; and turned See how they come and go! Every pleasure is transitory. Wehim loose in a spacious room on the two-pair front; where, can’t even eat, long. If we indulge in harmless fluids, we getin the company of certain drawing-boards, parallel rulers, very the dropsy; if in exciting liquids, we get drunk. What a soothingreflection is that!’stiff-legged compasses, and two, or perhaps three, other younggentlemen, he improved himself, for three or five years, accordingto his articles, in making elevations of Salisbury Ca-‘When I say we, my dear,’ returned her father, ‘I mean man-‘Don’t say we get drunk, Pa,’ urged the eldest Miss Pecksniff.thedral from every possible point of sight; and in constructingin the air a vast quantity of Castles, Houses of Parliament, individuals. There is nothing personal in morality, my love. Evenkind in general; the human race, considered as a body, and not asand other Public Buildings. Perhaps in no place in the world such a thing as this,’ said Mr Pecksniff, laying the fore-finger ofwere so many gorgeous edifices of this class erected as under his left hand upon the brown paper patch on the top of his head,Mr Pecksniff’s auspices; and if but one-twentieth part of the ‘slight casual baldness though it be, reminds us that we are but’—churches which were built in that front room, with one or he was going to say ‘worms,’ but recollecting that worms wereother of the Miss Pecksniffs at the altar in the act of marrying not remarkable for heads of hair, he substituted ‘flesh and blood.’the architect, could only be made available by the parliamentarycommissioners, no more churches would be wanted for seemed to have been casting about for a new moral, and not‘Which,’ cried Mr Pecksniff after a pause, during which heat least five centuries.quite successfully, ‘which is also very soothing. Mercy, my‘Even the worldly goods of which we have just disposed,’ dear, stir the fire and throw up the cinders.’20

Charles DickensThe young lady obeyed, and having done so, resumed her in the frequent habit of using any word that occurred to himstool, reposed one arm upon her father’s knee, and laid her as having a good sound, and rounding a sentence well withoutmuch care for its meaning. And he did this so boldly, andblooming cheek upon it. Miss Charity drew her chair nearerthe fire, as one prepared for conversation, and looked towards in such an imposing manner, that he would sometimes staggerthe wisest people with his eloquence, and make them gaspher father.‘Yes,’ said Mr Pecksniff, after a short pause, during which again.he had been silently smiling, and shaking his head at the fire— His enemies asserted, by the way, that a strong trustfulness’I have again been fortunate in the attainment of my object. in sounds and forms was the master-key to Mr Pecksniff’sA new inmate will very shortly come among us.’character.‘A youth, papa?’ asked Charity.‘Is he handsome, Pa?’ inquired the younger daughter.‘Ye-es, a youth,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘He will avail himself of ‘Silly Merry!’ said the eldest: Merry being fond for Mercy.the eligible opportunity which now offers, for uniting the ‘What is the premium, Pa? tell us that.’advantages of the best practical architectural education with ‘Oh, good gracious, Cherry!’ cried Miss Mercy, holding upthe comforts of a home, and the constant association with her hands with the most winning giggle in the world, ‘what asome who (however humble their sphere, and limited their mercenary girl you are! oh you naughty, thoughtful, prudentcapacity) are not unmindful of their moral responsibilities.’ thing!’‘Oh Pa!’ cried Mercy, holding up her finger archly. ‘See It was perfectly charming, and worthy of the Pastoral age,advertisement!’to see how the two Miss Pecksniffs slapped each other after‘Playful—playful warbler,’ said Mr Pecksniff. It may be this, and then subsided into an embrace expressive of theirobserved in connection with his calling his daughter a ‘warbler,’that she was not at all vocal, but that Mr Pecksniff was ‘He is well looking,’ said Mr Pecksniff, slowly anddifferent dispositions.distinctly;21

Martin Chuzzlewit‘well looking enough. I do not positively expect any immediatepremium with him.’had begun these reflections, and seeing that they both smiled,Glancing towards his daughters for the first time since heNotwithstanding their different natures, both Charity and Mr Pecksniff eyed them for an instant so jocosely (thoughMercy concurred in opening their eyes uncommonly wide at still with a kind of saintly waggishness) that the younger onethis announcement, and in looking for the moment as blank was moved to sit upon his knee forthwith, put her fair armsas if their thoughts had actually had a direct bearing on the round his neck, and kiss him twenty times. During the wholemain chance.of this affectionate display she laughed to a most immoderate‘But what of that!’ said Mr Pecksniff, still smiling at the extent: in which hilarious indulgence even the prudent Cherryfire. ‘There is disinterestedness in the world, I hope? We are joined.not all arrayed in two opposite ranks; the OFfensive and the ‘Tut, tut,’ said Mr Pecksniff, pushing his latest-born awayDEfensive. Some few there are who walk between; who help and running his fingers through his hair, as he resumed histhe needy as they go; and take no part with either side. Umph!’ tranquil face. ‘What folly is this! Let us take heed how weThere was something in these morsels of philanthropy which laugh without reason lest we cry with it. What is the domesticnews since yesterday? John Westlock is gone, I hope?’reassured the sisters. They exchanged glances, and brightenedvery much.‘Indeed, no,’ said Charity.‘Oh! let us not be for ever calculating, devising, and plottingfor the future,’ said Mr Pecksniff, smiling more and more, terday. And his box was packed, I know; for I saw it, in the‘And why not?’ returned her father. ‘His term expired yes-and looking at the fire as a man might, who was cracking a morning, standing in the hall.’joke with it: ‘I am weary of such arts. If our inclinations are ‘He slept last night at the Dragon,’ returned the young lady,but good and open-hearted, let us gratify them boldly, though ‘and had Mr Pinch to dine with him. They spent the eveningthey bring upon us Loss instead of Profit. Eh, Charity?’ together, and Mr Pinch was not home till very late.’22

Charles Dickens‘And when I saw him on the stairs this morning, Pa,’ said very well to say what can we expect from Mr Pinch, but MrMercy with her usual sprightliness, ‘he looked, oh goodness, Pinch is a fellow-creature, my dear; Mr Pinch is an item insuch a monster! with his face all manner of colours, and his eyes the vast total of humanity, my love; and we have a right, it isas dull as if they had been boiled, and his head aching dreadfully,I am sure from the look of it, and his clothes smelling, oh better qualities, the possession of which in our own personsour duty, to expect in Mr Pinch some development of thoseit’s impossible to say how strong, oh’—here the young lady inspires our humble self-respect. No,’ continued Mr Pecksniff.shuddered—’of smoke and punch.’‘No! Heaven forbid that I should say, nothing can be expectedfrom Mr Pinch; or that I should say, nothing can be‘Now I think,’ said Mr Pecksniff with his accustomedgentleness, though still with the air of one who suffered underinjury without complaint, ‘I think Mr Pinch might have Mr Pinch is not, no, really); but Mr Pinch has disappointedexpected from any man alive (even the most degraded, whichdone better than choose for his companion one who, at the me; he has hurt me; I think a little the worse of him on thisclose of a long intercourse, had endeavoured, as he knew, to account, but not if human nature. Oh, no, no!’wound my feelings. I am not quite sure that this was delicate ‘Hark!’ said Miss Charity, holding up her finger, as a gentlein Mr Pinch. I am not quite sure that this was kind in Mr rap was heard at the street door. ‘There is the creature! NowPinch. I will go further and say, I am not quite sure that this mark my words, he has come back with John Westlock forwas even ordinarily grateful in Mr Pinch.’his box, and is going to help him to take it to the mail. Only‘But what can anyone expect from Mr Pinch!’ cried Charity,with as strong and scornful an emphasis on the name as if Even as she spoke, the box appeared to be in progress ofmark my words, if that isn’t his intention!’it would have given her unspeakable pleasure to express it, in conveyance from the house, but after a brief murmuring ofan acted charade, on the calf of that gentleman’s leg. question and answer, it was put down again, and somebody‘Aye, aye,’ returned her father, raising his hand mildly: ‘it is knocked at the parlour door.23

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Come in!’ cried Mr Pecksniff—not severely; only virtuously.‘Come in!’young ladies being as intent upon the fire as their father was,from Charity to Mr Pecksniff again, several times; but theAn ungainly, awkward-looking man, extremely shortsighted,and prematurely bald, availed himself of this permis-to say, at last,and neither of the three taking any notice of him, he was fainsion; and seeing that Mr Pecksniff sat with his back towards ‘Oh! I beg your pardon, Mr Pecksniff: I beg your pardonhim, gazing at the fire, stood hesitating, with the door in his for intruding; but—’hand. He was far from handsome certainly; and was drest in a ‘No intrusion, Mr Pinch,’ said that gentleman very sweetly,snuff-coloured suit, of an uncouth make at the best, which, but without looking round. ‘Pray be seated, Mr Pinch. Havebeing shrunk with long wear, was twisted and tortured into the goodness to shut the door, Mr Pinch, if you please.’all kinds of odd shapes; but notwithstanding his attire, and ‘Certainly, sir,’ said Pinch; not doing so, however, but holdinghis clumsy figure, which a great stoop in his shoulders, and a it rather wider open than before, and beckoning nervously toludicrous habit he had of thrusting his head forward, by no somebody without: ‘Mr Westlock, sir, hearing that you weremeans redeemed, one would not have been disposed (unless come home—’Mr Pecksniff said so) to consider him a bad fellow by any ‘Mr Pinch, Mr Pinch!’ said Pecksniff, wheeling his chairmeans. He was perhaps about thirty, but he might have been about, and looking at him with an aspect of the deepest melancholy,‘I did not expect this from you. I have not deservedalmost any age between sixteen and sixty; being one of thosestrange creatures who never decline into an ancient appearance,but look their oldest when they are very young, and get ‘No, but upon my word, sir—’ urged Pinch.this from you!’it over at once.‘The less you say, Mr Pinch,’ interposed the other, ‘the better.I utter no complaint. Make no defence.’Keeping his hand upon the lock of the door, he glancedfrom Mr Pecksniff to Mercy, from Mercy to Charity, and ‘No, but do have the goodness, sir,’ cried Pinch, with great24

Charles Dickensearnestness, ‘if you please. Mr Westlock, sir, going away for ‘I told you he didn’t,’ said Pinch, in an undertone; ‘I knewgood and all, wishes to leave none but friends behind him. he didn’t! He always says he don’t.’Mr Westlock and you, sir, had a little difference the other ‘Then you will shake hands, sir?’ cried Westlock, advancingday; you have had many little differences.’a step or two, and bespeaking Mr Pinch’s close attention by a‘Little differences!’ cried Charity.glance.‘Little differences!’ echoed Mercy.‘Umph!’ said Mr Pecksniff, in his most winning tone.‘My loves!’ said Mr Pecksniff, with the same serene upraisingof his hand; ‘My dears!’ After a solemn pause he meekly ‘No, John,’ said Mr Pecksniff, with a calmness quite ethe-‘You will shake hands, sir.’bowed to Mr Pinch, as who should say, ‘Proceed;’ but Mr real; ‘no, I will not shake hands, John. I have forgiven you. IPinch was so very much at a loss how to resume, and looked had already forgiven you, even before you ceased to reproachso helplessly at the two Miss Pecksniffs, that the conversation and taunt me. I have embraced you in the spirit, John, whichwould most probably have terminated there, if a good-lookingyouth, newly arrived at man’s estate, had not stepped for-‘Pinch,’ said the youth, turning towards him, with a heartyis better than shaking hands.’ward from the doorway and taken up the thread of the discourse.Poor Pinch looked down uneasily at Mr Pecksniff, whosedisgust of his late master, ‘what did I tell you?’‘Come, Mr Pecksniff,’ he said, with a smile, ‘don’t let there eye was fixed upon him as it had been from the first; andbe any ill-blood between us, pray. I am sorry we have ever looking up at the ceiling again, made no reply.differed, and extremely sorry I have ever given you offence. ‘As to your forgiveness, Mr Pecksniff,’ said the youth, ‘I’llBear me no ill-will at parting, sir.’not have it upon such terms. I won’t be forgiven.’‘I bear,’ answered Mr Pecksniff, mildly, ‘no ill-will to any ‘Won’t you, John?’ retorted Mr Pecksniff, with a smile.man on earth.’‘You must. You can’t help it. Forgiveness is a high quality; an25

Martin Chuzzlewit‘You a great eater!’ retorted his companion, with no less mother died happy to think that she had put me with such anindignation than before. ‘How do you know you are?’ excellent man. I have grown up in his house, I am in his confidence,I am his assistant, he allows me a salary; when his businessThere appeared to be forcible matter in this inquiry, for MrPinch only repeated in an undertone that he had a strong improves, my prospects are to improve too. All this, and a greatmisgiving on the subject, and that he greatly feared he was. deal more, is in the second place. And in the very prologue and‘Besides, whether I am or no,’ he added, ‘that has little or preface to the first place, John, you must consider this, whichnothing to do with his thinking me ungrateful. John, there is nobody knows better than I: that I was born for much plainerscarcely a sin in the world that is in my eyes such a crying one and poorer things, that I am not a good hand for his kind ofas ingratitude; and when he taxes me with that, and believes business, and have no talent for it, or indeed for anything else butme to be guilty of it, he makes me miserable and wretched.’ odds and ends that are of no use or service to anybody.’‘Do you think he don’t know that?’ returned the other scornfully.‘But come, Pinch, before I say anything more to you, of feeling, that his companion instinctively changed his man-He said this with so much earnestness, and in a tone so fulljust run over the reasons you have for being grateful to him at ner as he sat down on the box (they had by this time reachedall, will you? Change hands first, for the box is heavy. That’ll the finger-post at the end of the lane); motioned him to sitdo. Now, go on.’down beside him; and laid his hand upon his shoulder.‘In the first place,’ said Pinch, ‘he took me as his pupil for ‘I believe you are one of the best fellows in the world,’ hemuch less than he asked.’said, ‘Tom Pinch.’‘Well,’ rejoined his friend, perfectly unmoved by this instanceof generosity. ‘What in the second place?’well as I do, you might say it of him, indeed, and say it truly.’‘Not at all,’ rejoined Tom. ‘If you only knew Pecksniff as‘What in the second place?’ cried Pinch, in a sort of desperation,‘why, everything in the second place. My poor old grand-not another word to his‘I’ll say anything of him, you like,’ returned the other, ‘anddisparagement.’28

Charles Dickens‘It’s for my sake, then; not his, I am afraid,’ said Pinch, mable service in all his mean disputes; because your honestyshaking his head gravely.reflects honesty on him; because your wandering about this‘For whose you please, Tom, so that it does please you. Oh! little place all your spare hours, reading in ancient books andHe’s a famous fellow! HE never scraped and clawed into his foreign tongues, gets noised abroad, even as far as Salisbury,pouch all your poor grandmother’s hard savings—she was a making of him, Pecksniff the master, a man of learning andhousekeeper, wasn’t she, Tom?’of vast importance. He gets no credit from you, Tom, not‘Yes,’ said Mr Pinch, nursing one of his large knees, and he.’nodding his head; ‘a gentleman’s housekeeper.’‘Why, of course he don’t,’ said Pinch, gazing at his friend‘He never scraped and clawed into his pouch all her hard with a more troubled aspect than before. ‘Pecksniff get creditsavings; dazzling her with prospects of your happiness and from me! Well!’advancement, which he knew (and no man better) never would ‘Don’t I say that it’s ridiculous,’ rejoined the other, ‘even tobe realised! HE never speculated and traded on her pride in think of such a thing?’you, and her having educated you, and on her desire that you ‘Why, it’s madness,’ said Tom.at least should live to be a gentleman. Not he, Tom!’‘Madness!’ returned young Westlock. ‘Certainly it’s madness.Who but a madman would suppose he cares to hear it‘No,’ said Tom, looking into his friend’s face, as if he werea little doubtful of his meaning. ‘Of course not.’said on Sundays, that the volunteer who plays the organ in‘So I say,’ returned the youth, ‘of course he never did. He the church, and practises on summer evenings in the dark, isdidn’t take less than he had asked, because that less was all she Mr Pecksniff’s young man, eh, Tom? Who but a madmanhad, and more than he expected; not he, Tom! He doesn’t would suppose it is the game of such a man as he, to have hiskeep you as his assistant because you are of any use to him; name in everybody’s mouth, connected with the thousandbecause your wonderful faith in his pretensions is of inesti-useless odds and ends you do (and which, of course, he taught29

Martin Chuzzlewityou), eh, Tom? Who but a madman would suppose you advertisedhim hereabouts, much cheaper and much better than ence; greatly as it seemed to the satisfaction of the youngerily upon their ears, putting an immediate end to the confer-a chalker on the walls could, eh, Tom? As well might one man, who jumped up briskly, and gave his hand to his companion.suppose that he doesn’t on all occasions pour out his wholeheart and soul to you; that he doesn’t make you a very liberal ‘Both hands, Tom. I shall write to you from London, mind!’and indeed rather an extravagant allowance; or, to be more ‘Yes,’ said Pinch. ‘Yes. Do, please. Good-bye. Good-bye. Iwild and monstrous still, if that be possible, as well might can hardly believe you’re going. It seems, now, but yesterdayone suppose,’ and here, at every word, he struck him lightly that you came. Good-bye! my dear old fellow!’on the breast, ‘that Pecksniff traded in your nature, and that John Westlock returned his parting words with no less heartinessof manner, and sprung up to his seat upon the roof. Offyour nature was to be timid and distrustful of yourself, andtrustful of all other men, but most of all, of him who least went the mail at a canter down the dark road; the lamps gleamingbrightly, and the horn awakening all the echoes, far anddeserves it. There would be madness, Tom!’Mr Pinch had listened to all this with looks of bewilderment,which seemed to be in part occasioned by the matter ‘Go your ways,’ said Pinch, apostrophizing the coach; ‘Iwide.of his companion’s speech, and in part by his rapid and vehementmanner. Now that he had come to a close, he drew a monster who visits this place at certain intervals, to bear mycan hardly persuade myself but you’re alive, and are some greatvery long breath; and gazing wistfully in his face as if he were friends away into the world. You’re more exulting and rampantthan usual tonight, I think; and you may well crow overunable to settle in his own mind what expression it wore, andwere desirous to draw from it as good a clue to his real meaningas it was possible to obtain in the dark, was about to one fault that I know of; he don’t mean it, but he is mostyour prize; for he is a fine lad, an ingenuous lad, and has butanswer, when the sound of the mail guard’s horn came cheer-cruelly unjust to Pecksniff!’30

CHAPTER THREEIN WHICH CERTAIN OTHER PERSONSARE INTRODUCED;ON THE SAME TERMS AS IN THE LASTCHAPTERMENTION HAS BEEN already made more than once, of a certainDragon who swung and creaked complainingly before thevillage alehouse door. A faded, and an ancient dragon he was;and many a wintry storm of rain, snow, sleet, and hail, hadchanged his colour from a gaudy blue to a faint lack-lustreshade of grey. But there he hung; rearing, in a state of monstrousimbecility, on his hind legs; waxing, with every monththat passed, so much more dim and shapeless, that as yougazed at him on one side of the sign-board it seemed as if hemust be gradually melting through it, and coming out uponthe other.He was a courteous and considerate dragon, too; or hadbeen in his distincter days; for in the midst of his rampantfeebleness, he kept one of his forepaws near his nose, as thoughCharles Dickens31he would say, ‘Don’t mind me—it’s only my fun;’ while heheld out the other in polite and hospitable entreaty. Indeed itmust be conceded to the whole brood of dragons of moderntimes, that they have made a great advance in civilisation andrefinement. They no longer demand a beautiful virgin for breakfastevery morning, with as much regularity as any tame singlegentleman expects his hot roll, but rest content with the societyof idle bachelors and roving married men; and they are nowremarkable rather for holding aloof from the softer sex anddiscouraging their visits (especially on Saturday nights), thanfor rudely insisting on their company without any reference totheir inclinations, as they are known to have done in days ofyore.Nor is this tribute to the reclaimed animals in question sowide a digression into the realms of Natural History as itmay, at first sight, appear to be; for the present business ofthese pages in with the dragon who had his retreat in MrPecksniff’s neighbourhood, and that courteous animal beingalready on the carpet, there is nothing in the way of its immediatetransaction.For many years, then, he had swung and creaked, and flapped

Martin Chuzzlewithimself about, before the two windows of the best bedroom for, and wouldn’t take any remedies but those which the youngof that house of entertainment to which he lent his name; lady administered from a small medicine-chest, and wouldn’t,but never in all his swinging, creaking, and flapping, had there in a word, do anything but terrify the landlady out of her fivebeen such a stir within its dingy precincts, as on the evening wits, and obstinately refuse compliance with every suggestionnext after that upon which the incidents, detailed in the last that was made to him.chapter occurred; when there was such a hurrying up and down Of all the five hundred proposals for his relief which the goodstairs of feet, such a glancing of lights, such a whispering of woman poured out in less than half an hour, he would entertainvoices, such a smoking and sputtering of wood newly lighted but one. That was that he should go to bed. And it was in thein a damp chimney, such an airing of linen, such a scorching preparation of his bed and the arrangement of his chamber, thatsmell of hot warming-pans, such a domestic bustle and todo,in short, as never dragon, griffin, unicorn, or other ani-He was, beyond all question, very ill, and suffered exceed-all the stir was made in the room behind the Dragon.mal of that species presided over, since they first began to ingly; not the less, perhaps, because he was a strong and vigorousold man, with a will of iron, and a voice of brass. Butinterest themselves in household affairs.An old gentleman and a young lady, travelling, unattended, neither the apprehensions which he plainly entertained, atin a rusty old chariot with post-horses; coming nobody knew times, for his life, nor the great pain he underwent, influencedhis resolution in the least degree. He would have nowhence and going nobody knew whither; had turned out ofthe high road, and driven unexpectedly to the Blue Dragon; person sent for. The worse he grew, the more rigid and inflexiblehe became in his determination. If they sent for any per-and here was the old gentleman, who had taken this step byreason of his sudden illness in the carriage, suffering the most son to attend him, man, woman, or child, he would leave thehorrible cramps and spasms, yet protesting and vowing in the house directly (so he told them), though he quitted it onvery midst of his pain, that he wouldn’t have a doctor sent foot, and died upon the threshold of the door.32

Charles DickensNow, there being no medical practitioner actually resident ceased to suffer at all; though his exhaustion was occasionallyin the village, but a poor apothecary who was also a grocer so great that it suggested hardly less alarm than his actual endurancehad done.and general dealer, the landlady had, upon her own responsibility,sent for him, in the very first burst and outset of the It was in one of his intervals of repose, when, looking rounddisaster. Of course it followed, as a necessary result of his with great caution, and reaching uneasily out of his nest ofbeing wanted, that he was not at home. He had gone some pillows, he endeavoured, with a strange air of secrecy and distrust,to make use of the writing materials which he had or-miles away, and was not expected home until late at night; sothe landlady, being by this time pretty well beside herself, dered to be placed on a table beside him, that the young ladydispatched the same messenger in all haste for Mr Pecksniff, and the mistress of the Blue Dragon found themselves sittingas a learned man who could bear a deal of responsibility, and side by side before the fire in the sick chamber.a moral man who could administer a world of comfort to a The mistress of the Blue Dragon was in outward appearancejust what a landlady should be: broad, buxom, comfort-troubled mind. That her guest had need of some efficientservices under the latter head was obvious enough from the able, and good looking, with a face of clear red and white,restless expressions, importing, however, rather a worldly than which, by its jovial aspect, at once bore testimony to her heartya spiritual anxiety, to which he gave frequent utterance. participation in the good things of the larder and cellar, andFrom this last-mentioned secret errand, the messenger returnedwith no better news than from the first; Mr Pecksniff but years ago had passed through her state of weeds, and burstto their thriving and healthful influences. She was a widow,was not at home. However, they got the patient into bed into flower again; and in full bloom she had continued everwithout him; and in the course of two hours, he gradually since; and in full bloom she was now; with roses on her amplebecame so far better that there were much longer intervals skirts, and roses on her bodice, roses in her cap, roses in herthan at first between his terms of suffering. By degrees, he cheeks,—aye, and roses, worth the gathering too, on her lips,33

Martin Chuzzlewitfor that matter. She had still a bright black eye, and jet black fire there, as in your modern chambers, which upon the darkestnights have a watchful consciousness of French polish; thehair; was comely, dimpled, plump, and tight as a gooseberry;and though she was not exactly what the world calls young, old Spanish mahogany winked at it now and then, as a dozingyou may make an affidavit, on trust, before any mayor or cat or dog might, nothing more. The very size and shape, andmagistrate in Christendom, that there are a great many young hopeless immovability of the bedstead, and wardrobe, and in aladies in the world (blessings on them one and all!) whom minor degree of even the chairs and tables, provoked sleep;you wouldn’t like half as well, or admire half as much, as the they were plainly apoplectic and disposed to snore. There werebeaming hostess of the Blue Dragon.no staring portraits to remonstrate with you for being lazy; noAs this fair matron sat beside the fire, she glanced occasionallywith all the pride of ownership, about the room; which and insufferably prying. The thick neutral hangings, and theround-eyed birds upon the curtains, disgustingly wide awake,was a large apartment, such as one may see in country places, dark blinds, and the heavy heap of bed-clothes, were all designedto hold in sleep, and act as nonconductors to the daywith a low roof and a sunken flooring, all downhill from thedoor, and a descent of two steps on the inside so exquisitely and getting up. Even the old stuffed fox upon the top of theunexpected, that strangers, despite the most elaborate cautioning,usually dived in head first, as into a plunging-bath. It was had fallen out, and he slumbered as he stood.wardrobe was devoid of any spark of vigilance, for his glass eyenone of your frivolous and preposterously bright bedrooms, The wandering attention of the mistress of the Blue Dragonwhere nobody can close an eye with any kind of propriety or roved to these things but twice or thrice, and then for but andecent regard to the association of ideas; but it was a good, instant at a time. It soon deserted them, and even the distantdull, leaden, drowsy place, where every article of furniture remindedyou that you came there to sleep, and that you were ately before her, who, with her downcast eyes intently fixedbed with its strange burden, for the young creature immedi-expected to go to sleep. There was no wakeful reflection of the upon the fire, sat wrapped in silent meditation.34

Charles DickensShe was very young; apparently no more than seventeen; observation; and partly that she might, unseen by him, givetimid and shrinking in her manner, and yet with a greater some vent to the natural feelings she had hitherto suppressed.share of self possession and control over her emotions than Of all this, and much more, the rosy landlady of the Blueusually belongs to a far more advanced period of female life. Dragon took as accurate note and observation as only womanThis she had abundantly shown, but now, in her tending of can take of woman. And at length she said, in a voice too low,the sick gentleman. She was short in stature; and her figure she knew, to reach the bed:was slight, as became her years; but all the charms of youth ‘You have seen the gentleman in this way before, miss? Is heand maidenhood set it off, and clustered on her gentle brow. used to these attacks?’Her face was very pale, in part no doubt from recent agitation.Her dark brown hair, disordered from the same cause, ‘What a Providence!’ said the landlady of the Dragon, ‘that‘I have seen him very ill before, but not so ill as he has been tonight.’had fallen negligently from its bonds, and hung upon her you had the prescriptions and the medicines with you, miss!’neck; for which instance of its waywardness no male observer ‘They are intended for such an emergency. We never travelwould have had the heart to blame it.without them.’Her attire was that of a lady, but extremely plain; and in her ‘Oh!’ thought the hostess, ‘then we are in the habit of travelling,and of travelling together.’manner, even when she sat as still as she did then, there was anindefinable something which appeared to be in kindred with She was so conscious of expressing this in her face, thather scrupulously unpretending dress. She had sat, at first lookinganxiously towards the bed; but seeing that the patient being a very honest hostess, she was rather confused.meeting the young lady’s eyes immediately afterwards, andremained quiet, and was busy with his writing, she had softly ‘The gentleman—your grandpapa’—she resumed, after amoved her chair into its present place; partly, as it seemed, short pause, ‘being so bent on having no assistance, must terrifyyou very much, from an instinctive consciousness that he desired to avoidmiss?’35

Martin Chuzzlewit‘I have been very much alarmed to-night. He—he is not my grandfather.’immediately, and went no farther.She had moved a pace or two towards the bed, but stopped‘Father, I should have said,’ returned the hostess, sensible of ‘No,’ he repeated, with a petulant emphasis. ‘Why do youhaving made an awkward mistake.ask me? If I had called you, what need for such a question?’‘Nor my father’ said the young lady. ‘Nor,’ she added, ‘It was the creaking of the sign outside, sir, I dare say,’ observedthe landlady; a suggestion by the way (as she felt aslightly smiling with a quick perception of what the landladywas going to add, ‘Nor my uncle. We are not related.’ moment after she had made it), not at all complimentary to‘Oh dear me!’ returned the landlady, still more embarrassed the voice of the old gentleman.than before; ‘how could I be so very much mistaken; knowing,as anybody in their proper senses might that when a gentle-how you stand there, Mary, as if I had the plague! But they’re‘No matter what, ma’am,’ he rejoined: ‘it wasn’t I. Whyman is ill, he looks so much older than he really is? That I all afraid of me,’ he added, leaning helplessly backward on hisshould have called you “Miss,” too, ma’am!’ But when she pillow; ‘even she! There is a curse upon me. What else have Ihad proceeded thus far, she glanced involuntarily at the third to look for?’finger of the young lady’s left hand, and faltered again; for ‘Oh dear, no. Oh no, I’m sure,’ said the good-temperedthere was no ring upon it.landlady, rising, and going towards him. ‘Be of better cheer,‘When I told you we were not related,’ said the other mildly, sir. These are only sick fancies.’but not without confusion on her own part, ‘I meant not in ‘What are only sick fancies?’ he retorted. ‘What do you knowany way. Not even by marriage. Did you call me, Martin?’ about fancies? Who told you about fancies? The old story!‘Call you?’ cried the old man, looking quickly up, and hurriedlydrawing beneath the coverlet the paper on which he ‘Only see again there, how you take one up!’ said the mis-Fancies!’had been writing. ‘No.’tress of the Blue Dragon, with unimpaired good humour.36

Charles Dickens‘Dear heart alive, there is no harm in the word, sir, if it is an ‘Come,’ he said, ‘tell me who is it? Being here, it is not veryold one. Folks in good health have their fancies, too, and hard for me to guess, you may suppose.’strange ones, every day.’‘Martin,’ interposed the young lady, laying her hand uponHarmless as this speech appeared to be, it acted on the his arm; ‘reflect how short a time we have been in this house,traveller’s distrust, like oil on fire. He raised his head up in the and that even your name is unknown here.’bed, and, fixing on her two dark eyes whose brightness was ‘Unless,’ he said, ‘you—’ He was evidently tempted to expressa suspicion of her having broken his confidence in favourexaggerated by the paleness of his hollow cheeks, as they inturn, together with his straggling locks of long grey hair, were of the landlady, but either remembering her tender nursing,rendered whiter by the tight black velvet skullcap which he or being moved in some sort by her face, he checked himself,wore, he searched her face intently.and changing his uneasy posture in the bed, was silent.‘Ah! you begin too soon,’ he said, in so low a voice that he ‘There!’ said Mrs Lupin; for in that name the Blue Dragonseemed to be thinking it, rather than addressing her. ‘But you was licensed to furnish entertainment, both to man and beast.lose no time. You do your errand, and you earn your fee. Now, ‘Now, you will be well again, sir. You forgot, for the moment,that there were none but friends here.’who may be your client?’The landlady looked in great astonishment at her whom he ‘Oh!’ cried the old man, moaning impatiently, as he tossedcalled Mary, and finding no rejoinder in the drooping face, one restless arm upon the coverlet; ‘why do you talk to me oflooked back again at him. At first she had recoiled involuntarily,supposing him disordered in his mind; but the slow com-friends, and who my enemies?’friends! Can you or anybody teach me to know who are myposure of his manner, and the settled purpose announced in his ‘At least,’ urged Mrs Lupin, gently, ‘this young lady is yourstrong features, and gathering, most of all, about his puckered friend, I am sure.’mouth, forbade the supposition.‘She has no temptation to be otherwise,’ cried the old man,37

Martin Chuzzlewitlike one whose hope and confidence were utterly exhausted. der and amazement at these mysteries, she withdrew at once,‘I suppose she is. Heaven knows. There, let me try to sleep. and repairing straightway to her own little parlour below stairs,Leave the candle where it is.’sat down in her easy-chair with unnatural composure. At thisAs they retired from the bed, he drew forth the writing very crisis, a step was heard in the entry, and Mr Pecksniff,which had occupied him so long, and holding it in the flame looking sweetly over the half-door of the bar, and into theof the taper burnt it to ashes. That done, he extinguished the vista of snug privacy beyond, murmured:light, and turning his face away with a heavy sigh, drew the ‘Good evening, Mrs Lupin!’coverlet about his head, and lay quite still.‘Oh dear me, sir!’ she cried, advancing to receive him, ‘I amThis destruction of the paper, both as being strangely inconsistentwith the labour he had devoted to it, and as in-‘And I am very glad I have come,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘if Iso very glad you have come.’volving considerable danger of fire to the Dragon, occasioned can be of service. I am very glad I have come. What is theMrs Lupin not a little consternation. But the young lady evincingno surprise, curiosity, or alarm, whispered her, with many ‘A gentleman taken ill upon the road, has been so very badmatter, Mrs Lupin?’thanks for her solicitude and company, that she would remainthere some time longer; and that she begged her not to ‘A gentleman taken ill upon the road, has been so very badupstairs, sir,’ said the tearful hostess.share her watch, as she was well used to being alone, and would upstairs, has he?’ repeated Mr Pecksniff. ‘Well, well!’pass the time in reading.Now there was nothing that one may call decidedly originalin this remark, nor can it be exactly said to have containedMrs Lupin had her full share and dividend of that largecapital of curiosity which is inherited by her sex, and at anothertime it might have been difficult so to impress this hint opened any hidden source of consolation; but Mr Pecksniff’sany wise precept theretofore unknown to mankind, or to haveupon her as to induce her to take it. But now, in sheer won-manner was so bland, and he nodded his head so soothingly,38

Charles Dickensand showed in everything such an affable sense of his own way you ever heard. He is far from easy in his thoughts, andexcellence, that anybody would have been, as Mrs Lupin was, wants some proper advice from those whose goodness makes itcomforted by the mere voice and presence of such a man; worth his having.’and, though he had merely said ‘a verb must agree with its ‘Then,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘he is the sort of customer fornominative case in number and person, my good friend,’ or me.’ But though he said this in the plainest language, he didn’t‘eight times eight are sixty-four, my worthy soul,’ must have speak a word. He only shook his head; disparagingly of himselftoo.felt deeply grateful to him for his humanity and wisdom.‘And how,’ asked Mr Pecksniff, drawing off his gloves and ‘I am afraid, sir,’ continued the landlady, first looking roundwarming his hands before the fire, as benevolently as if they to assure herself that there was nobody within hearing, andwere somebody else’s, not his; ‘and how is he now?’ then looking down upon the floor. ‘I am very much afraid,‘He is better, and quite tranquil,’ answered Mrs Lupin. sir, that his conscience is troubled by his not being related‘He is better, and quite tranquil,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Very to—or—or even married to—a very young lady—’well! Ve-ry well!’‘Mrs Lupin!’ said Mr Pecksniff, holding up his hand withHere again, though the statement was Mrs Lupin’s and not something in his manner as nearly approaching to severity asMr Pecksniff’s, Mr Pecksniff made it his own and consoled her any expression of his, mild being that he was, could ever do.with it. It was not much when Mrs Lupin said it, but it was a ‘Person! young person?’whole book when Mr Pecksniff said it. ‘I observe,’ he seemed ‘A very young person,’ said Mrs Lupin, curtseying and blushing;‘—I beg your pardon, sir, but I have been so hurried to-to say, ‘and through me, morality in general remarks, that he isbetter and quite tranquil.’night, that I don’t know what I say—who is with him now.’‘There must be weighty matters on his mind, though,’ said ‘Who is with him now,’ ruminated Mr Pecksniff, warmingthe hostess, shaking her head, ‘for he talks, sir, in the strangest his back (as he had warmed his hands) as if it were a widow’s39

Martin Chuzzlewitback, or an orphan’s back, or an enemy’s back, or a back that They went in on tiptoe; or rather the hostess took thatany less excellent man would have suffered to be cold. ‘Oh precaution for Mr Pecksniff always walked softly. The olddear me, dear me!’gentleman was still asleep, and his young companion still sat‘At the same time I am bound to say, and I do say with all reading by the fire.my heart,’ observed the hostess, earnestly, ‘that her looks and ‘I am afraid,’ said Mr Pecksniff, pausing at the door, andmanner almost disarm suspicion.’giving his head a melancholy roll, ‘I am afraid that this looks‘Your suspicion, Mrs Lupin,’ said Mr Pecksniff gravely, ‘is artful. I am afraid, Mrs Lupin, do you know, that this looksvery natural.’very artful!’Touching which remark, let it be written down to their As he finished this whisper, he advanced before the hostess;confusion, that the enemies of this worthy man unblushingly and at the same time the young lady, hearing footsteps, rose.maintained that he always said of what was very bad, that it Mr Pecksniff glanced at the volume she held, and whisperedwas very natural; and that he unconsciously betrayed his own Mrs Lupin again; if possible, with increased despondency.nature in doing so.‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, ‘it is a good book. I was fearful of‘Your suspicion, Mrs Lupin,’ he repeated, ‘is very natural, that beforehand. I am apprehensive that this is a very deepand I have no doubt correct. I will wait upon these travellers.’ thing indeed!’With that he took off his great-coat, and having run his ‘What gentleman is this?’ inquired the object of his virtuousdoubts.fingers through his hair, thrust one hand gently in the bosomof his waist-coat and meekly signed to her to lead the way. ‘Hush! don’t trouble yourself, ma’am,’ said Mr Pecksniff,‘Shall I knock?’ asked Mrs Lupin, when they reached the as the landlady was about to answer. ‘This young’—in spitechamber door.of himself he hesitated when “person” rose to his lips, and‘No,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘enter if you please.’substituted another word: ‘this young stranger, Mrs Lupin,40

Charles Dickenswill excuse me for replying briefly, that I reside in this village; There was nothing remarkable in these proceedings, exceptit may be in an influential manner, however, undeserved; and the influence they worked on Mr Pecksniff, which could hardlythat I have been summoned here by you. I am here, as I am have been surpassed by the most marvellous of natural phenomena.Gradually his hands became tightly clasped uponeverywhere, I hope, in sympathy for the sick and sorry.’With these impressive words, Mr Pecksniff passed over to the elbows of the chair, his eyes dilated with surprise, his mouththe bedside, where, after patting the counterpane once or twice opened, his hair stood more erect upon his forehead than itsin a very solemn manner, as if by that means he gained a clear custom was, until, at length, when the old man rose in bed,insight into the patient’s disorder, he took his seat in a large and stared at him with scarcely less emotion than he showedarm-chair, and in an attitude of some thoughtfulness and himself, the Pecksniff doubts were all resolved, and he exclaimedaloud:much comfort, waited for his waking. Whatever objectionthe young lady urged to Mrs Lupin went no further, for nothingmore was said to Mr Pecksniff, and Mr Pecksniff said His consternation of surprise was so genuine, that the old‘You are Martin Chuzzlewit!’nothing more to anybody else.man, with all the disposition that he clearly entertained toFull half an hour elapsed before the old man stirred, but at believe it assumed, was convinced of its reality.length he turned himself in bed, and, though not yet awake, ‘I am Martin Chuzzlewit,’ he said, bitterly: ‘and Martingave tokens that his sleep was drawing to an end. By little and Chuzzlewit wishes you had been hanged, before you had comelittle he removed the bed-clothes from about his head, and here to disturb him in his sleep. Why, I dreamed of this fellow!’he said, lying down again, and turning away his face,turned still more towards the side where Mr Pecksniff sat. Incourse of time his eyes opened; and he lay for a few moments ‘before I knew that he was near me!’as people newly roused sometimes will, gazing indolently at ‘My good cousin—’ said Mr Pecksniff.his visitor, without any distinct consciousness of his presence. ‘There! His very first words!’ cried the old man, shaking his41

Martin Chuzzlewitgrey head to and fro upon the pillow, and throwing up his ‘Apart from that consideration,’ said Mr Pecksniff, watchfulof the effect he made, ‘it must be plain to you (I am sure)hands. ‘In his very first words he asserts his relationship! Iknew he would; they all do it! Near or distant, blood or water,it’s all one. Ugh! What a calendar of deceit, and lying, and your good opinion, I should have been, of all things, carefulby this time, that if I had wished to insinuate myself intofalse-witnessing, the sound of any word of kindred opens not to address you as a relative; knowing your humour, andbefore me!’being quite certain beforehand that I could not have a worse‘Pray do not be hasty, Mr Chuzzlewit,’ said Pecksniff, in a letter of recommendation.’tone that was at once in the sublimest degree compassionate Martin made not any verbal answer; but he as clearly impliedthough only by a motion of his legs beneath the bed-and dispassionate; for he had by this time recovered from hissurprise, and was in full possession of his virtuous self. ‘You clothes, that there was reason in this, and that he could notwill regret being hasty, I know you will.’dispute it, as if he had said as much in good set terms.‘You know!’ said Martin, contemptuously.‘No,’ said Mr Pecksniff, keeping his hand in his waistcoat‘Yes,’ retorted Mr Pecksniff. ‘Aye, aye, Mr Chuzzlewit; and as though he were ready, on the shortest notice, to producedon’t imagine that I mean to court or flatter you; for nothing his heart for Martin Chuzzlewit’s inspection, ‘I came here tois further from my intention. Neither, sir, need you entertain offer my services to a stranger. I make no offer of them tothe least misgiving that I shall repeat that obnoxious word you, because I know you would distrust me if I did. Butwhich has given you so much offence already. Why should I? lying on that bed, sir, I regard you as a stranger, and I have justWhat do I expect or want from you? There is nothing in your that amount of interest in you which I hope I should feel inpossession that I know of, Mr Chuzzlewit, which is much to any stranger, circumstanced as you are. Beyond that, I ambe coveted for the happiness it brings you.’quite as indifferent to you, Mr Chuzzlewit, as you are to me.’‘That’s true enough,’ muttered the old man.Having said which, Mr Pecksniff threw himself back in the42

Charles Dickenseasy-chair; so radiant with ingenuous honesty, that Mrs Lupinalmost wondered not to see a stained-glass Glory, such as Chuzzlewit had expressed in gestures, that he wanted to speakNow if Mr Pecksniff knew, from anything Martinthe Saint wore in the church, shining about his head. to him, he could only have found it out on some such principleas prevails in melodramas, and in virtue of which theA long pause succeeded. The old man, with increased restlessness,changed his posture several times. Mrs Lupin and elderly farmer with the comic son always knows what thethe young lady gazed in silence at the counterpane. Mr Pecksniff dumb girl means when she takes refuge in his garden, andtoyed abstractedly with his eye-glass, and kept his eyes shut, relates her personal memoirs in incomprehensible pantomime.that he might ruminate the better.But without stopping to make any inquiry on this point,‘Eh?’ he said at last, opening them suddenly, and looking Martin Chuzzlewit signed to his young companion to withdraw,which she immediately did, along with the landladytowards the bed. ‘I beg your pardon. I thought you spoke.Mrs Lupin,’ he continued, slowly rising ‘I am not aware that leaving him and Mr Pecksniff alone together. For some timeI can be of any service to you here. The gentleman is better, they looked at each other in silence; or rather the old manand you are as good a nurse as he can have. Eh?’looked at Mr Pecksniff, and Mr Pecksniff again closing hisThis last note of interrogation bore reference to another eyes on all outward objects, took an inward survey of his ownchange of posture on the old man’s part, which brought his breast. That it amply repaid him for his trouble, and affordedface towards Mr Pecksniff for the first time since he had turned a delicious and enchanting prospect, was clear from the expressionof his face.away from him.‘If you desire to speak to me before I go, sir,’ continued ‘You wish me to speak to you as to a total stranger,’ said thethat gentleman, after another pause, ‘you may command my old man, ‘do you?’leisure; but I must stipulate, in justice to myself, that you do Mr Pecksniff replied, by a shrug of his shoulders and anso as to a stranger, strictly as to a stranger.’apparent turning round of his eyes in their sockets before he43

Martin Chuzzlewitopened them, that he was still reduced to the necessity of A thought arose in Pecksniff’s mind, which must have instantlymounted to his face, or Martin Chuzzlewit wouldentertaining that desire.‘You shall be gratified,’ said Martin. ‘Sir, I am a rich man. not have resumed as quickly and as sternly as he did:Not so rich as some suppose, perhaps, but yet wealthy. I am ‘You would advise me for my peace of mind, to get rid ofnot a miser sir, though even that charge is made against me, as this source of misery, and transfer it to some one who couldI hear, and currently believed. I have no pleasure in hoarding. bear it better. Even you, perhaps, would rid me of a burdenI have no pleasure in the possession of money, The devil that under which I suffer so grievously. But, kind stranger,’ saidwe call by that name can give me nothing but unhappiness.’ the old man, whose every feature darkened as he spoke, ‘goodIt would be no description of Mr Pecksniff’s gentleness of Christian stranger, that is a main part of my trouble. In othermanner to adopt the common parlance, and say that he looked hands, I have known money do good; in other hands I haveat this moment as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He known it triumphed in, and boasted of with reason, as therather looked as if any quantity of butter might have been master-key to all the brazen gates that close upon the paths tomade out of him, by churning the milk of human kindness, worldly honour, fortune, and enjoyment. To what man oras it spouted upwards from his heart.woman; to what worthy, honest, incorruptible creature; shall‘For the same reason that I am not a hoarder of money,’ I confide such a talisman, either now or when I die? Do yousaid the old man, ‘I am not lavish of it. Some people find know any such person? YOUR virtues are of course inestimable,but can you tell me of any other living creature whotheir gratification in storing it up; and others theirs in partingwith it; but I have no gratification connected with the thing. will bear the test of contact with myself?’Pain and bitterness are the only goods it ever could procure ‘Of contact with yourself, sir?’ echoed Mr Pecksniff.for me. I hate it. It is a spectre walking before me through the ‘Aye,’ returned the old man, ‘the test of contact with me—world, and making every social pleasure hideous.’with me. You have heard of him whose misery (the gratifica-44

Charles Dickenstion of his own foolish wish) was, that he turned every thing to light. Brother against brother, child against parent, friendshe touched into gold. The curse of my existence, and the treading on the faces of friends, this is the social company byrealisation of my own mad desire is that by the golden standardwhich I bear about me, I am doomed to try the metal of they may be true or false—of rich men who, in the garb ofwhom my way has been attended. There are stories told—all other men, and find it false and hollow.’poverty, have found out virtue and rewarded it. They wereMr Pecksniff shook his head, and said, ‘You think so.’ dolts and idiots for their pains. They should have made the‘Oh yes,’ cried the old man, ‘I think so! and in your telling search in their own characters. They should have shown themselvesfit objects to be robbed and preyed upon and plottedme “I think so,” I recognize the true unworldly ring of yourmetal. I tell you, man,’ he added, with increasing bitterness, against and adulated by any knaves, who, but for joy, would‘that I have gone, a rich man, among people of all grades and have spat upon their coffins when they died their dupes; andkinds; relatives, friends, and strangers; among people in whom, then their search would have ended as mine has done, andwhen I was poor, I had confidence, and justly, for they never they would be what I am.’once deceived me then, or, to me, wronged each other. But I Mr Pecksniff, not at all knowing what it might be best tohave never found one nature, no, not one, in which, being say in the momentary pause which ensued upon these remarks,wealthy and alone, I was not forced to detect the latent corruptionthat lay hid within it waiting for such as I to bring it something very oracular indeed; trusting to the certainty ofmade an elaborate demonstration of intending to deliverforth. Treachery, deceit, and low design; hatred of competitors,real or fancied, for my favour; meanness, falsehood, base-Nor was he mistaken, for Martin Chuzzlewit having takenthe old man interrupting him, before he should utter a word.ness, and servility; or,’ and here he looked closely in his cousin’s breath, went on to say:eyes, ‘or an assumption of honest independence, almost worse ‘Hear me to an end; judge what profit you are like to gainthan all; these are the beauties which my wealth has brought from any repetition of this visit; and leave me. I have so cor-45

Martin Chuzzlewitrupted and changed the nature of all those who have ever panion, and she is my only one. I have taken, as she knows, aattended on me, by breeding avaricious plots and hopes within solemn oath never to leave her sixpence when I die, but whilethem; I have engendered such domestic strife and discord, by I live I make her an annual allowance; not extravagant in itstarrying even with members of my own family; I have been amount and yet not stinted. There is a compact between ussuch a lighted torch in peaceful homes, kindling up all the that no term of affectionate cajolery shall ever be addressedinflammable gases and vapours in their moral atmosphere, by either to the other, but that she shall call me always by mywhich, but for me, might have proved harmless to the end, Christian name; I her, by hers. She is bound to me in life bythat I have, I may say, fled from all who knew me, and taking ties of interest, and losing by my death, and having no expectationdisappointed, will mourn it, perhaps; though for that Irefuge in secret places have lived, of late, the life of one who ishunted. The young girl whom you just now saw—what! your care little. This is the only kind of friend I have or will have.eye lightens when I talk of her! You hate her already, do you?’ Judge from such premises what a profitable hour you have‘Upon my word, sir!’ said Mr Pecksniff, laying his hand spent in coming here, and leave me, to return no more.’upon his breast, and dropping his eyelids.With these words, the old man fell slowly back upon his‘I forgot,’ cried the old man, looking at him with a keennesswhich the other seemed to feel, although he did not raise hem, began as follows:pillow. Mr Pecksniff as slowly rose, and, with a prefatoryhis eyes so as to see it. ‘I ask your pardon. I forgot you were a ‘Mr Chuzzlewit.’stranger. For the moment you reminded me of one Pecksniff, ‘There. Go!’ interposed the other. ‘Enough of this. I ama cousin of mine. As I was saying—the young girl whom you weary of you.’just now saw, is an orphan child, whom, with one steady ‘I am sorry for that, sir,’ rejoined Mr Pecksniff, ‘because Ipurpose, I have bred and educated, or, if you prefer the word, have a duty to discharge, from which, depend upon it, I shalladopted. For a year or more she has been my constant com-not shrink. No, sir, I shall not shrink.’46

Charles DickensIt is a lamentable fact, that as Mr Pecksniff stood erect besidethe bed, in all the dignity of Goodness, and addressed of manner, ‘that it arises from a cold in the head, or is attrib-say, if you please,’ added Mr Pecksniff, with great tendernesshim thus, the old man cast an angry glance towards the candlestick,as if he were possessed by a strong inclination to launch the real cause.’utable to snuff, or smelling-salts, or onions, or anything butit at his cousin’s head. But he constrained himself, and pointingwith his finger to the door, informed him that his road hind his pocket-handkerchief. Then, smiling faintly, and hold-Here he paused for an instant, and concealed his face be-lay there.ing the bed furniture with one hand, he resumed:‘Thank you,’ said Mr Pecksniff; ‘I am aware of that. I am ‘But, Mr Chuzzlewit, while I am forgetful of myself, I owegoing. But before I go, I crave your leave to speak, and more it to myself, and to my character—aye, sir, and I have a characterwhich is very dear to me, and will be the best inheritancethan that, Mr Chuzzlewit, I must and will—yes indeed, Irepeat it, must and will —be heard. I am not surprised, sir, at of my two daughters—to tell you, on behalf of another, thatanything you have told me tonight. It is natural, very natural, your conduct is wrong, unnatural, indefensible, monstrous.and the greater part of it was known to me before. I will not And I tell you, sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, towering on tiptoesay,’ continued Mr Pecksniff, drawing out his pocket-handkerchief,and winking with both eyes at once, as it were, against worldly considerations, and were fain to hold on tight, toamong the curtains, as if he were literally rising above allhis will, ‘I will not say that you are mistaken in me. While keep himself from darting skyward like a rocket, ‘I tell youyou are in your present mood I would not say so for the without fear or favour, that it will not do for you to be unmindfulof your grandson, young Martin, who has the stron-world. I almost wish, indeed, that I had a different nature,that I might repress even this slight confession of weakness; gest natural claim upon you. It will not do, sir,’ repeated Mrwhich I cannot disguise from you; which I feel is humiliating;but which you will have the goodness to excuse. We will won’t. You must provide for that young man; you shallPecksniff, shaking his head. ‘You may think it will do, but itpro-47

Martin Chuzzlewitvide for him; you will provide for him. I believe,’ said Mr ‘Another will made and destroyed,’ he said, ‘nothing determinedon, nothing done, and I might have died to-night! IPecksniff, glancing at the pen-and-ink, ‘that in secret you havealready done so. Bless you for doing so. Bless you for doing plainly see to what foul uses all this money will be put at last,’right, sir. Bless you for hating me. And good night!’ he cried, almost writhing in the bed; ‘after filling me withSo saying, Mr Pecksniff waved his right hand with much cares and miseries all my life, it will perpetuate discord andsolemnity, and once more inserting it in his waistcoat, departed.There was emotion in his manner, but his step was grow out of the graves of rich men, every day; sowing per-bad passions when I am dead. So it always is. What lawsuitsfirm. Subject to human weaknesses, he was upheld by conscience.be nothing but love! Heaven help us, we have much to anjury,hatred, and lies among near kindred, where there shouldMartin lay for some time, with an expression on his face of swer for! Oh self, self, self! Every man for himself, and nosilent wonder, not unmixed with rage; at length he muttered creature for me!’in a whisper:Universal self! Was there nothing of its shadow in these‘What does this mean? Can the false-hearted boy have chosensuch a tool as yonder fellow who has just gone out? Why own showing?reflections, and in the history of Martin Chuzzlewit, on hisnot! He has conspired against me, like the rest, and they arebut birds of one feather. A new plot; a new plot! Oh self, self,self! At every turn nothing but self!’He fell to trifling, as he ceased to speak, with the ashes ofthe burnt paper in the candlestick. He did so, at first, in pureabstraction, but they presently became the subject of histhoughts.48

CHAPTER FOURFROM WHICH IT WILL APPEAR THAT IFUNION BE STRENGTH, AND FAMILYAFFECTION BE PLEASANT TO CONTEM-PLATE, THE CHUZZLEWITS WERE THESTRONGEST AND MOST AGREEABLEFAMILY IN THE WORLDTHAT WORTHY MAN Mr Pecksniff having taken leave of hiscousin in the solemn terms recited in the last chapter, withdrewto his own home, and remained there three whole days;not so much as going out for a walk beyond the boundariesof his own garden, lest he should be hastily summoned to thebedside of his penitent and remorseful relative, whom, in hisample benevolence, he had made up his mind to forgive unconditionally,and to love on any terms. But such was theobstinacy and such the bitter nature of that stern old man,that no repentant summons came; and the fourth day foundMr Pecksniff apparently much farther from his Christianobject than the first.Charles Dickens49During the whole of this interval, he haunted the Dragonat all times and seasons in the day and night, and, returninggood for evil evinced the deepest solicitude in the progress ofthe obdurate invalid, in so much that Mrs Lupin was fairlymelted by his disinterested anxiety (for he often particularlyrequired her to take notice that he would do the same by anystranger or pauper in the like condition), and shed many tearsof admiration and delight.Meantime, old Martin Chuzzlewit remained shut up in hisown chamber, and saw no person but his young companion,saving the hostess of the Blue Dragon, who was, at certaintimes, admitted to his presence. So surely as she came intothe room, however, Martin feigned to fall asleep. It was onlywhen he and the young lady were alone, that he would uttera word, even in answer to the simplest inquiry; though MrPecksniff could make out, by hard listening at the door, thatthey two being left together, he was talkative enough.It happened on the fourth evening, that Mr Pecksniff walking,as usual, into the bar of the Dragon and finding no MrsLupin there, went straight upstairs; purposing, in the fervourof his affectionate zeal, to apply his ear once more to the key-

Martin Chuzzlewithole, and quiet his mind by assuring himself that the hardheartedpatient was going on well. It happened that Mr currently termed shabby-genteel, though in respect of his dressThe gentleman was of that order of appearance which isPecksniff, coming softly upon the dark passage into which a he can hardly be said to have been in any extremities, as hisspiral ray of light usually darted through the same keyhole, was fingers were a long way out of his gloves, and the soles of hisastonished to find no such ray visible; and it happened that Mr feet were at an inconvenient distance from the upper leatherPecksniff, when he had felt his way to the chamber-door, stoopinghurriedly down to ascertain by personal inspection whether violent in its colours once, but sobered now by age and dingi-of his boots. His nether garments were of a bluish grey—the jealousy of the old man had caused this keyhole to be stopped ness—and were so stretched and strained in a tough conflicton the inside, brought his head into such violent contact with between his braces and his straps, that they appeared everyanother head that he could not help uttering in an audible voice moment in danger of flying asunder at the knees. His coat, inthe monosyllable ‘Oh!’ which was, as it were, sharply unscrewed colour blue and of a military cut, was buttoned and froggedand jerked out of him by very anguish. It happened then, and up to his chin. His cravat was, in hue and pattern, like one oflastly, that Mr Pecksniff found himself immediately collared those mantles which hairdressers are accustomed to wrap aboutby something which smelt like several damp umbrellas, a barrelof beer, a cask of warm brandy-and-water, and a small ies. His hat had arrived at such a pass that it would have beentheir clients, during the progress of the professional myster-parlour-full of stale tobacco smoke, mixed; and was straightwayled downstairs into the bar from which he had lately come, But he wore a moustache—a shaggy moustache too; nothinghard to determine whether it was originally white or black.where he found himself standing opposite to, and in the grasp in the meek and merciful way, but quite in the fierce andof, a perfectly strange gentleman of still stranger appearance scornful style; the regular Satanic sort of thing—and he wore,who, with his disengaged hand, rubbed his own head very hard, besides, a vast quantity of unbrushed hair. He was very dirtyand looked at him, Pecksniff, with an evil countenance. and very jaunty; very bold and very mean; very swaggering50

Charles Dickensand very slinking; very much like a man who might have ‘Your name is Pecksniff?’ said the gentleman.been something better, and unspeakably like a man who deservedto be something worse.‘I am proud to know you, and I ask your pardon,’ said the‘It is.’‘You were eaves-dropping at that door, you vagabond!’ said gentleman, touching his hat, and subsequently diving behindthis gentleman.his cravat for a shirt-collar, which however he did not succeedMr Pecksniff cast him off, as Saint George might have repudiatedthe Dragon in that animal’s last moments, and said: has also an interest in that gentleman upstairs. Wait a bit.’in bringing to the surface. ‘You behold in me, sir, one who‘Where is Mrs Lupin, I wonder! can the good woman possiblybe aware that there is a person here who—’of intimation that he would let Mr Pecksniff into a secretAs he said this, he touched the tip of his high nose, by way‘Stay!’ said the gentleman. ‘Wait a bit. She does know. What presently; and pulling off his hat, began to search inside thethen?’crown among a mass of crumpled documents and small pieces‘What then, sir?’ cried Mr Pecksniff. ‘What then? Do you of what may be called the bark of broken cigars; whence heknow, sir, that I am the friend and relative of that sick gentleman?That I am his protector, his guardian, his—’dirt and redolent of tobacco.presently selected the cover of an old letter, begrimed with‘Not his niece’s husband,’ interposed the stranger, ‘I’ll be ‘Read that,’ he cried, giving it to Mr Pecksniff.sworn; for he was there before you.’‘This is addressed to Chevy Slyme, Esquire,’ said that gentleman.‘What do you mean?’ said Mr Pecksniff, with indignantsurprise. ‘What do you tell me, sir?’‘You know Chevy Slyme, Esquire, I believe?’ returned the‘Wait a bit!’ cried the other, ‘Perhaps you are a cousin—the stranger.cousin who lives in this place?’Mr Pecksniff shrugged his shoulders as though he would‘I am the cousin who lives in this place,’ replied the man of worth. say ‘I know there is such a person, and I am sorry for it.’51

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Very good,’ remarked the gentleman. ‘That is my interest original, spiritual, classical, talented, the most thoroughlyand business here.’ With that he made another dive for his Shakspearian, if not Miltonic, and at the same time the mostshirt-collar and brought up a string.disgustingly-unappreciated dog I know. But, sir, I have not‘Now, this is very distressing, my friend,’ said Mr Pecksniff, the vanity to attempt to pass for Slyme. Any other man inshaking his head and smiling composedly. ‘It is very distressing the wide world, I am equal to; but Slyme is, I frankly confess,to me, to be compelled to say that you are not the person you a great many cuts above me. Therefore you are wrong.’claim to be. I know Mr Slyme, my friend; this will not do; ‘I judged from this,’ said Mr Pecksniff, holding out thehonesty is the best policy you had better not; you had indeed.’ cover of the letter.‘Stop’ cried the gentleman, stretching forth his right arm, ‘No doubt you did,’ returned the gentleman. ‘But, Mrwhich was so tightly wedged into his threadbare sleeve that it Pecksniff, the whole thing resolves itself into an instance oflooked like a cloth sausage. ‘Wait a bit!’the peculiarities of genius. Every man of true genius has hisHe paused to establish himself immediately in front of the peculiarity. Sir, the peculiarity of my friend Slyme is, that hefire with his back towards it. Then gathering the skirts of his is always waiting round the corner. He is perpetually roundcoat under his left arm, and smoothing his moustache with the corner, sir. He is round the corner at this instant. Now,’his right thumb and forefinger, he resumed:said the gentleman, shaking his forefinger before his nose,‘I understand your mistake, and I am not offended. Why? and planting his legs wider apart as he looked attentively inBecause it’s complimentary. You suppose I would set myself Mr Pecksniff’s face, ‘that is a remarkably curious and interestingtrait in Mr Slyme’s character; and whenever Slyme’s lifeup for Chevy Slyme. Sir, if there is a man on earth whom agentleman would feel proud and honoured to be mistaken comes to be written, that trait must be thoroughly workedfor, that man is my friend Slyme. For he is, without an exception,the highest-minded, the most independent-spirited, most me, society will not beout by his biographer or society will not be satisfied. Observesatisfied!’52

Charles DickensMr Pecksniff coughed.tion with the most remarkable events of the Peninsular‘Slyme’s biographer, sir, whoever he may be,’ resumed the War?’gentleman, ‘must apply to me; or, if I am gone to that what’shis-namefrom which no thingumbob comes back, he must ‘No matter,’ said the gentleman. ‘That man was my father,Mr Pecksniff gently shook his head.apply to my executors for leave to search among my papers. I and I bear his name. I am consequently proud—proud ashave taken a few notes in my poor way, of some of that man’s Lucifer. Excuse me one moment. I desire my friend Slyme toproceedings—my adopted brother, sir,—which would amaze be present at the remainder of this conference.’you. He made use of an expression, sir, only on the fifteenth of With this announcement he hurried away to the outer doorlast month when he couldn’t meet a little bill and the other of the Blue Dragon, and almost immediately returned with aparty wouldn’t renew, which would have done honour to NapoleonBonaparte in addressing the French army.’blue camlet cloak with a lining of faded scarlet. His sharpcompanion shorter than himself, who was wrapped in an old‘And pray,’ asked Mr Pecksniff, obviously not quite at his features being much pinched and nipped by long waiting inease, ‘what may be Mr Slyme’s business here, if I may be the cold, and his straggling red whiskers and frowzy hair beingmore than usually dishevelled from the same cause, hepermitted to inquire, who am compelled by a regard for myown character to disavow all interest in his proceedings?’ certainly looked rather unwholesome and uncomfortable than‘In the first place,’ returned the gentleman, ‘you will permitme to say, that I object to that remark, and that I ‘Now,’ said Mr Tigg, clapping one hand on the shoulder ofShakspearian or Miltonic.strongly and indignantly protest against it on behalf of my his prepossessing friend, and calling Mr Pecksniff’s attentionfriend Slyme. In the next place, you will give me leave to to him with the other, ‘you two are related; and relationsintroduce myself. My name, sir, is Tigg. The name of never did agree, and never will; which is a wise dispensationMontague Tigg will perhaps be familiar to you, in connec-and an inevitable thing, or there would be none but family53

Martin Chuzzlewitparties, and everybody in the world would bore everybody winked at the same, because of the strong metaphysical interestwhich these weaknesses possessed; and that in reference toelse to death. If you were on good terms, I should consideryou a most confoundedly unnatural pair; but standing towardseach other as you do, I took upon you as a couple of consulted the humour of his friend, without the least regardhis own personal advocacy of such small advances, he merelydevilish deep-thoughted fellows, who may be reasoned with to his own advantage or necessities.to any extent.’‘Oh, Chiv, Chiv!’ added Mr Tigg, surveying his adoptedHere Mr Chevy Slyme, whose great abilities seemed one brother with an air of profound contemplation after dismissingthis piece of pantomime. ‘You are, upon my life, a strangeand all to point towards the sneaking quarter of the moralcompass, nudged his friend stealthily with his elbow, and instance of the little frailties that beset a mighty mind. If therewhispered in his ear.had never been a telescope in the world, I should have been‘Chiv,’ said Mr Tigg aloud, in the high tone of one who quite certain from my observation of you, Chiv, that therewas not to be tampered with. ‘I shall come to that presently. were spots on the sun! I wish I may die, if this isn’t the queereststate of existence that we find ourselves forced into with-I act upon my own responsibility, or not at all. To the extentof such a trifling loan as a crownpiece to a man of your talents,I look upon Mr Pecksniff as certain;’ and seeing at this mind! Moralise as we will, the world goes on. As Hamletout knowing why or wherefore, Mr Pecksniff! Well, neverjuncture that the expression of Mr Pecksniff’s face by no means says, Hercules may lay about him with his club in every possibledirection, but he can’t prevent the cats from making abetokened that he shared this certainty, Mr Tigg laid his fingeron his nose again for that gentleman’s private and especial most intolerable row on the roofs of the houses, or the dogsbehoof; calling upon him thereby to take notice that the requisitionof small loans was another instance of the peculiari-streets unmuzzled. Life’s a riddle; a most infernally hard riddlefrom being shot in the hot weather if they run about theties of genius as developed in his friend Slyme; that he, Tigg, to guess, Mr Pecksniff. My own opinions, that like that cel-54

Charles Dickensebrated conundrum, “Why’s a man in jail like a man out of petually closeted with, and pouring his whole confidence intojail?” there’s no answer to it. Upon my soul and body, it’s the the bosom of, a stranger. Now I say decisively with regard toqueerest sort of thing altogether—but there’s no use in talkingabout it. Ha! Ha!’that it can’t be; and that it must not be suffered to continue.’this state of circumstances, that it won’t do; that it won’t act;With which consolatory deduction from the gloomy premisesrecited, Mr Tigg roused himself by a great effort, and right, (which I, for one, would not call in question for any earthly‘Every man,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘has a right, an undoubtedproceeded in his former strain.consideration; oh no!) to regulate his own proceedings by his‘Now I’ll tell you what it is. I’m a most confoundedly softheartedkind of fellow in my way, and I cannot stand by, and not irreligious. I may feel in my own breast, that Mr Chuzzlewitown likings and dislikings, supposing they are not immoral andsee you two blades cutting each other’s throats when there’s does not regard—me, for instance; say me—with exactly thatnothing to be got by it. Mr Pecksniff, you’re the cousin of the amount of Christian love which should subsist between us. Itestator upstairs and we’re the nephew—I say we, meaning may feel grieved and hurt at the circumstance; still I may notChiv. Perhaps in all essential points you are more nearly relatedto him than we are. Very good. If so, so be it. But you justification in all his coldnesses. Heaven forbid! Besides; how,rush to the conclusion that Mr Chuzzlewit is wholly without acan’t get at him, neither can we. I give you my brightest word Mr Tigg,’ continued Pecksniff even more gravely and impressivelythan he had spoken yet, ‘how could Mr Chuzzlewit beof honour, sir, that I’ve been looking through that keyholewith short intervals of rest, ever since nine o’clock this morning,in expectation of receiving an answer to one of the most fidences of which you speak; the existence of which I must ad-prevented from having these peculiar and most extraordinary con-moderate and gentlemanly applications for a little temporary mit; and which I cannot but deplore—for his sake? Consider,assistance—only fifteen pounds, and MY security —that the my good sir—’ and here Mr Pecksniff eyed him wistfully—mind of man can conceive. In the meantime, sir, he is per-’how very much at random you are talking.’55

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Why, as to that,’ rejoined Tigg, ‘it certainly is a difficult ‘It’s not only the Spottletoes either, Tigg,’ said Slyme, lookingat that gentleman and speaking at Mr Pecksniff. ‘Anthonyquestion.’‘Undoubtedly it is a difficult question,’ Mr Pecksniff answered.As he spoke he drew himself aloft, and seemed to grow down this afternoon. I saw ‘em not five minutes ago, when IChuzzlewit and his son have got wind of it, and have comemore mindful, suddenly, of the moral gulf between himself was waiting round the corner.’and the creature he addressed. ‘Undoubtedly it is a very difficultquestion. And I am far from feeling sure that it is a ques-his forehead.‘Oh, Mammon, Mammon!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, smitingtion any one is authorized to discuss. Good evening to you.’ ‘So there,’ said Slyme, regardless of the interruption, ‘are‘You don’t know that the Spottletoes are here, I suppose?’ his brother and another nephew for you, already.’said Mr Tigg.‘This is the whole thing, sir,’ said Mr Tigg; ‘this is the point‘What do you mean, sir? what Spottletoes?’ asked Pecksniff, and purpose at which I was gradually arriving when my friendstopping abruptly on his way to the door.Slyme here, with six words, hit it full. Mr Pecksniff, now‘Mr and Mrs Spottletoe,’ said Chevy Slyme, Esquire, speakingaloud for the first time, and speaking very sulkily; sham-must be taken to prevent his disappearing again; and, if pos-that your cousin (and Chiv’s uncle) has turned up, some stepsbling with his legs the while. ‘Spottletoe married my father’s sible, to counteract the influence which is exercised over himbrother’s child, didn’t he? And Mrs Spottletoe is Chuzzlewit’s now, by this designing favourite. Everybody who is interestedfeels it, sir. The whole family is pouring down to thisown niece, isn’t she? She was his favourite once. You may wellask what Spottletoes.’place. The time has come when individual jealousies and interestsmust be forgotten for a time, sir, and union must be‘Now upon my sacred word!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, lookingupwards. ‘This is dreadful. The rapacity of these people is made against the common enemy. When the common enemyis routed, you will all set up for yourselves again; absolutely frightful!’every56

Charles Dickenslady and gentleman who has a part in the game, will go in on ‘Five shillings!’ pursued Mr Tigg, musing; ‘and to be punctuallyrepaid next week; that’s the best of it. You heard that?’their own account and bowl away, to the best of their ability,at the testator’s wicket, and nobody will be in a worse positionthan before. Think of it. Don’t commit yourself now. ‘No! You surprise me!’ cried Tigg. ‘That’s the cream of theMr Pecksniff had not heard that.You’ll find us at the Half Moon and Seven Stars in this village,at any time, and open to any reasonable proposition. my life. You’re not in want of change, are you?’thing sir. I never knew that man fail to redeem a promise, inHem! Chiv, my dear fellow, go out and see what sort of a ‘No,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘thank you. Not at all.’night it is.’‘Just so,’ returned Mr Tigg. ‘If you had been, I’d have got itMr Slyme lost no time in disappearing, and it is to be presumedin going round the corner. Mr Tigg, planting his legs had not elapsed when he stopped short, and looking earnestlyfor you.’ With that he began to whistle; but a dozen secondsas wide apart as he could be reasonably expected by the most at Mr Pecksniff, said:sanguine man to keep them, shook his head at Mr Pecksniff ‘Perhaps you’d rather not lend Slyme five shillings?’and smiled.‘I would much rather not,’ Mr Pecksniff rejoined.‘We must not be too hard,’ he said, ‘upon the little eccentricitiesof our friend Slyme. You saw him whisper me?’ ground of objection occurred to him at that moment for the‘Egad!’ cried Tigg, gravely nodding his head as if someMr Pecksniff had seen him.first time, ‘it’s very possible you may be right. Would you‘You heard my answer, I think?’entertain the same sort of objection to lending me five shillingsnow?’Mr Pecksniff had heard it.‘Five shillings, eh?’ said Mr Tigg, thoughtfully. ‘Ah! what ‘Yes, I couldn’t do it, indeed,’ said Mr Pecksniff.an extraordinary fellow! Very moderate too!’‘Not even half-a-crown, perhaps?’ urged Mr Tigg.Mr Pecksniff made no answer.‘Not even half-a-crown.’57

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Why, then we come,’ said Mr Tigg, ‘to the ridiculously the Dragon, and that night in his own house, were very seriousand grave indeed; the more especially as the intelligencesmall amount of eighteen pence. Ha! ha!’‘And that,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘would be equally objectionable.’arrival of other members of the family, were fully confirmedhe had received from Messrs Tigg and Slyme touching theOn receipt of this assurance, Mr Tigg shook him heartily on more particular inquiry. For the Spottletoes had actuallyby both hands, protesting with much earnestness, that he was gone straight to the Dragon, where they were at that momentone of the most consistent and remarkable men he had ever housed and mounting guard, and where their appearance hadmet, and that he desired the honour of his better acquaintance.He moreover observed that there were many little char-errand before they had been under her roof half an hour, car-occasioned such a vast sensation that Mrs Lupin, scenting theiracteristics about his friend Slyme, of which he could by no ried the news herself with all possible secrecy straight to Mrmeans, as a man of strict honour, approve; but that he was Pecksniff’s house; indeed it was her great caution in doing soprepared to forgive him all these slight drawbacks, and much which occasioned her to miss that gentleman, who entered atmore, in consideration of the great pleasure he himself had the front door of the Dragon just as she emerged from thethat day enjoyed in his social intercourse with Mr Pecksniff, back one. Moreover, Mr Anthony Chuzzlewit and his sonwhich had given him a far higher and more enduring delight Jonas were economically quartered at the Half Moon andthan the successful negotiation of any small loan on the part Seven Stars, which was an obscure ale-house; and by the veryof his friend could possibly have imparted. With which remarkshe would beg leave, he said, to wish Mr Pecksniff a other affectionate members of the family (who quarrelled withnext coach there came posting to the scene of action, so manyvery good evening. And so he took himself off; as little abashed each other, inside and out, all the way down, to the utterby his recent failure as any gentleman would desire to be. distraction of the coachman), that in less than four-and-twentyThe meditations of Mr Pecksniff that evening at the bar of hours the scanty tavern accommodation was at a premium,58

Charles Dickensand all the private lodgings in the place, amounting to full ate terms of mutual aggravation; and nearly all addressed themselveswith a show of tolerable decency to Mr Pecksniff, infour beds and sofa, rose cent per cent in the market.In a word, things came to that pass that nearly the whole recognition of his high character and influential position. Thus,family sat down before the Blue Dragon, and formally investedit; and Martin Chuzzlewit was in a state of siege. But Chuzzlewit’s obduracy, until it was agreed (if such a word canby little and little, they made common cause of Martinhe resisted bravely; refusing to receive all letters, messages, be used in connection with the Chuzzlewits) that there shouldand parcels; obstinately declining to treat with anybody; and be a general council and conference held at Mr Pecksniff’sholding out no hope or promise of capitulation. Meantime house upon a certain day at noon; which all members of thethe family forces were perpetually encountering each other in family who had brought themselves within reach of the summons,were forthwith bidden and invited, solemnly, to at-divers parts of the neighbourhood; and, as no one branch ofthe Chuzzlewit tree had ever been known to agree with anotherwithin the memory of man, there was such a skirmish-If ever Mr Pecksniff wore an apostolic look, he wore it ontend.ing, and flouting, and snapping off of heads, in the metaphoricalsense of that expression; such a bandying of words the words, ‘I am a messenger of peace!’ that was its missionthis memorable day. If ever his unruffled smile proclaimedand calling of names; such an upturning of noses and wrinklingof brows; such a formal interment of good feelings and ties of the lamb with a considerable touch of the dove, andnow. If ever man combined within himself all the mild quali-violent resurrection of ancient grievances; as had never been not a dash of the crocodile, or the least possible suggestion ofknown in those quiet parts since the earliest record of their the very mildest seasoning of the serpent, that man was he.civilized existence.And, oh, the two Miss Pecksniffs! Oh, the serene expressionAt length, in utter despair and hopelessness, some few of on the face of Charity, which seemed to say, ‘I know that allthe belligerents began to speak to each other in only moder-my family have injured me beyond the possibility of repara-59

Martin Chuzzlewittion, but I forgive them, for it is my duty so to do!’ And, oh, First, there was Mr Spottletoe, who was so bald and hadthe gay simplicity of Mercy; so charming, innocent, and infant-like,that if she had gone out walking by herself, and it the sudden application of some powerful remedy, in the verysuch big whiskers, that he seemed to have stopped his hair, byhad been a little earlier in the season, the robin-redbreasts might act of falling off his head, and to have fastened it irrevocablyhave covered her with leaves against her will, believing her to on his face. Then there was Mrs Spottletoe, who being muchbe one of the sweet children in the wood, come out of it, and too slim for her years, and of a poetical constitution, wasissuing forth once more to look for blackberries in the young accustomed to inform her more intimate friends that the saidfreshness of her heart! What words can paint the Pecksniffs in whiskers were ‘the lodestar of her existence;’ and who couldthat trying hour? Oh, none; for words have naughty companyamong them, and the Pecksniffs were all goodness. Chuzzlewit, and the shock it gave her to be suspected of tes-now, by reason of her strong affection for her uncleBut when the company arrived! That was the time. When tamentary designs upon him, do nothing but cry—exceptMr Pecksniff, rising from his seat at the table’s head, with a moan. Then there were Anthony Chuzzlewit, and his sondaughter on either hand, received his guests in the best parlour Jonas; the face of the old man so sharpened by the warinessand motioned them to chairs, with eyes so overflowing and and cunning of his life, that it seemed to cut him a passagecountenance so damp with gracious perspiration, that he may through the crowded room, as he edged away behind the remotestchairs; while the son had so well profited by the pre-be said to have been in a kind of moist meekness! And thecompany; the jealous stony-hearted distrustful company, who cept and example of the father, that he looked a year or twowere all shut up in themselves, and had no faith in anybody, the elder of the twain, as they stood winking their red eyes,and wouldn’t believe anything, and would no more allow side by side, and whispering to each other softly. Then therethemselves to be softened or lulled asleep by the Pecksniffs was the widow of a deceased brother of Mr Martin Chuzzlewit,than if they had been so many hedgehogs or porcupines! who being almost supernaturally disagreeable, and having a60

Charles Dickensdreary face and a bony figure and a masculine voice, was, in extent, indeed, that his eyes were strained in their sockets, asright of these qualities, what is commonly called a strongmindedwoman; and who, if she could, would have estabtionto pimples, that the bright spots on his cravat, the richif with constant surprise; and he had such an obvious disposilishedher claim to the title, and have shown herself, mentally pattern on his waistcoat, and even his glittering trinkets,speaking, a perfect Samson, by shutting up her brother-inlawin a private madhouse, until he proved his complete san-into existence comfortably. Last of all there were present Mrseemed to have broken out upon him, and not to have comeity by loving her very much. Beside her sat her spinster daughters,three in number, and of gentlemanly deportment, who that although each person present disliked the other, mainlyChevy Slyme and his friend Tigg. And it is worthy of remark,had so mortified themselves with tight stays, that their temperswere reduced to something less than their waists, and concurred in hating Mr Tigg because he didn’t.because he or she DID belong to the family, they one and allsharp lacing was expressed in their very noses. Then there was Such was the pleasant little family circle now assembled ina young gentleman, grandnephew of Mr Martin Chuzzlewit, Mr Pecksniff’s best parlour, agreeably prepared to fall foul ofvery dark and very hairy, and apparently born for no particularpurpose but to save looking-glasses the trouble of reflectthingwhatever upon any subject.Mr Pecksniff or anybody else who might venture to say anyingmore than just the first idea and sketchy notion of a face, ‘This,’ said Mr Pecksniff, rising and looking round uponwhich had never been carried out. Then there was a solitary them with folded hands, ‘does me good. It does my daughtersgood. We thank you for assembling here. We are gratefulfemale cousin who was remarkable for nothing but being verydeaf, and living by herself, and always having the toothache. to you with our whole hearts. It is a blessed distinction thatThen there was George Chuzzlewit, a gay bachelor cousin, you have conferred upon us, and believe me’— it is impossibleto conceive how he smiled here—’we shall not easilywho claimed to be young but had been younger, and wasinclined to corpulency, and rather overfed himself; to that forget it.’61

Martin Chuzzlewit‘I am sorry to interrupt you, Pecksniff,’ remarked Mr address, ‘I am really not sorry that this little incident has happened.It is good to feel that we are met here without dis-Spottletoe, with his whiskers in a very portentous state; ‘butyou are assuming too much to yourself, sir. Who do you guise. It is good to know that we have no reserve before eachimagine has it in contemplation to confer a distinction upon other, but are appearing freely in our own characters.’you, sir?’Here, the eldest daughter of the strong-minded woman roseA general murmur echoed this inquiry, and applauded it. a little way from her seat, and trembling violently from head‘If you are about to pursue the course with which you have to foot, more as it seemed with passion than timidity, expresseda general hope that some people WOULD appear inbegun, sir,’ pursued Mr Spottletoe in a great heat, and givinga violent rap on the table with his knuckles, ‘the sooner you their own characters, if it were only for such a proceedingdesist, and this assembly separates, the better. I am no stranger, having the attraction of novelty to recommend it; and thatsir, to your preposterous desire to be regarded as the head of when they (meaning the some people before mentioned)this family, but I can tell you, sir—’talked about their relations, they would be careful to observeOh yes, indeed! He tell. He! What? He was the head, was who was present in company at the time; otherwise it mighthe? From the strong-minded woman downwards everybody come round to those relations’ ears, in a way they little expected;and as to red noses (she observed) she had yet to learnfell, that instant, upon Mr Spottletoe, who after vainly attemptingto be heard in silence was fain to sit down again, that a red nose was any disgrace, inasmuch as people neitherfolding his arms and shaking his head most wrathfully, and made nor coloured their own noses, but had that feature providedfor them without being first consulted; though evengiving Mrs Spottletoe to understand in dumb show, that thatscoundrel Pecksniff might go on for the present, but he would upon that branch of the subject she had great doubts whethercut in presently, and annihilate him.certain noses were redder than other noses, or indeed half as‘I am not sorry,’ said Mr Pecksniff in resumption of his red as some. This remark being received with a shrill titter by62

Charles Dickensthe two sisters of the speaker, Miss Charity Pecksniff begged casm, did so belabour and pummel Mrs Spottletoe withwith much politeness to be informed whether any of those taunting words that the poor lady, before the engagementvery low observations were levelled at her; and receiving no was two minutes old, had no refuge but in tears. These shemore explanatory answer than was conveyed in the adage shed so plentifully, and so much to the agitation and grief of‘Those the cap fits, let them wear it,’ immediately commenced Mr Spottletoe, that that gentleman, after holding his clencheda somewhat acrimonious and personal retort, wherein she was fist close to Mr Pecksniff’s eyes, as if it were some naturalmuch comforted and abetted by her sister Mercy, who laughed curiosity from the near inspection whereof he was likely toat the same with great heartiness; indeed far more naturally derive high gratification and improvement, and after offeringthan life. And it being quite impossible that any difference of (for no particular reason that anybody could discover) to kickopinion can take place among women without every woman Mr George Chuzzlewit for, and in consideration of, the triflingsum of sixpence, took his wife under his arm and indig-who is within hearing taking active part in it, the strong-mindedlady and her two daughters, and Mrs Spottletoe, and the deaf nantly withdrew. This diversion, by distracting the attentioncousin (who was not at all disqualified from joining in the of the combatants, put an end to the strife, which, after breakingout afresh some twice or thrice in certain inconsiderabledispute by reason of being perfectly unacquainted with itsmerits), one and all plunged into the quarrel directly. spurts and dashes, died away in silence.The two Miss Pecksniffs being a pretty good match for the It was then that Mr Pecksniff once more rose from his chair.three Miss Chuzzlewits, and all five young ladies having, in It was then that the two Miss Pecksniffs composed themselvesthe figurative language of the day, a great amount of steam to to look as if there were no such beings—not to say present, butdispose of, the altercation would no doubt have been a long in the whole compass of the world—as the three Missone but for the high valour and prowess of the strong-minded Chuzzlewits; while the three Miss Chuzzlewits became equallywoman, who, in right of her reputation for powers of sar-unconscious of the existence of the two Miss Pecksniffs.63

Martin Chuzzlewit‘It is to be lamented,’ said Mr Pecksniff, with a forgiving tive, and he being as it were beyond our reach, we are met today,really as if we were a funeral party, except—a blessedrecollection of Mr Spottletoe’s fist, ‘that our friend shouldhave withdrawn himself so very hastily, though we have cause exception—that there is no body in the house.’for mutual congratulation even in that, since we are assured The strong-minded lady was not at all sure that this was athat he is not distrustful of us in regard to anything we may blessed exception. Quite the contrary.say or do while he is absent. Now, that is very soothing, is it ‘Well, my dear madam!’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Be that as itnot?’may, here we are; and being here, we are to consider whether‘Pecksniff,’ said Anthony, who had been watching the whole it is possible by any justifiable means—’party with peculiar keenness from the first—’don’t you be a ‘Why, you know as well as I,’ said the strong-minded lady,hypocrite.’‘that any means are justifiable in such a case, don’t you?’‘A what, my good sir?’ demanded Mr Pecksniff.‘Very good, my dear madam, very good; whether it is possibleby any means, we will say by any means, to open the‘A hypocrite.’‘Charity, my dear,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘when I take my chambercandlestick to-night, remind me to be more than usually it is possible to make him acquainted by any means with theeyes of our valued relative to his present infatuation. Whetherparticular in praying for Mr Anthony Chuzzlewit; who has real character and purpose of that young female whose strange,done me an injustice.’whose very strange position, in reference to himself’—hereThis was said in a very bland voice, and aside, as being addressedto his daughter’s private ear. With a cheerfulness of casts a shadow of disgrace and shame upon this family; andMr Pecksniff sunk his voice to an impressive whisper—’reallyconscience, prompting almost a sprightly demeanour, he then who, we know’—here he raised his voice again —’else why isresumed:she his companion? harbours the very basest designs upon his‘All our thoughts centring in our very dear but unkind rela-weakness and his property.’64

Charles DickensIn their strong feeling on this point, they, who agreed in she does not. What I would observe is, that I think somenothing else, all concurred as one mind. Good Heaven, that practical means might be devised of inducing our respected,she should harbour designs upon his property! The strongmindedlady was for poison, her three daughters were for ‘No!’ interposed the strong-minded woman in a loud voice.shall I say our revered—?’Bridewell and bread-and-water, the cousin with the toothacheadvocated Botany Bay, the two Miss Pecksniffs suggested my dear madam, and I appreciate and thank you for your‘Then I will not,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘You are quite right,flogging. Nobody but Mr Tigg, who, notwithstanding his discriminating objection—our respected relative, to disposeextreme shabbiness, was still understood to be in some sort a himself to listen to the promptings of nature, and not tolady’s man, in right of his upper lip and his frogs, indicated a the—’doubt of the justifiable nature of these measures; and he only ‘Go on, Pa!’ cried Mercy.ogled the three Miss Chuzzlewits with the least admixture of ‘Why, the truth is, my dear,’ said Mr Pecksniff, smilingbanter in his admiration, as though he would observe, ‘You upon his assembled kindred, ‘that I am at a loss for a word.are positively down upon her to too great an extent, my sweet The name of those fabulous animals (pagan, I regret to say)creatures, upon my soul you are!’who used to sing in the water, has quite escaped me.’‘Now,’ said Mr Pecksniff, crossing his two forefingers in a Mr George Chuzzlewit suggested ‘swans.’manner which was at once conciliatory and argumentative; ‘I ‘No,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Not swans. Very like swans, too.will not, upon the one hand, go so far as to say that she deservesall the inflictions which have been so very forcibly and The nephew with the outline of a countenance, speakingThank you.’hilariously suggested;’ one of his ornamental sentences; ‘nor for the first and last time on that occasion, propounded ‘Oysters.’will I, upon the other, on any account compromise my commonunderstanding as a man, by making the assertion that ‘No,’ said Mr Pecksniff, with his own peculiar urbanity,65

Martin Chuzzlewit‘nor oysters. But by no means unlike oysters; a very excellent ness your jealousies and disappointed expectations may suggestto you, that I am not a cannibal, ma’am.’idea; thank you, my dear sir, very much. Wait! Sirens. Dearme! sirens, of course. I think, I say, that means might be devisedof disposing our respected relative to listen to the ‘At all events, if I was a cannibal,’ said Mr George‘I don’t know that!’ cried the strong-minded woman.promptings of nature, and not to the siren-like delusions of Chuzzlewit, greatly stimulated by this retort, ‘I think it wouldart. Now we must not lose sight of the fact that our esteemed occur to me that a lady who had outlived three husbands, andfriend has a grandson, to whom he was, until lately, very much suffered so very little from their loss, must be most uncommonlytough.’attached, and whom I could have wished to see here to-day,for I have a real and deep regard for him. A fine young man. The strong-minded woman immediately rose.a very fine young man! I would submit to you, whether we ‘And I will further add,’ said Mr George, nodding his headmight not remove Mr Chuzzlewit’s distrust of us, and vindicateour own disinterestedness by—’fore hurting nobody but those whose consciences tell themviolently at every second syllable; ‘naming no names, and there-‘If Mr George Chuzzlewit has anything to say to me,’ interposedthe strong-minded woman, sternly, ‘I beg him to speak cent and becoming, if those who hooked and crooked them-they are alluded to, that I think it would be much more de-out like a man; and not to look at me and my daughters as if selves into this family by getting on the blind side of some ofhe could eat us.’its members before marriage, and manslaughtering them afterwardsby crowing over them to that strong pitch that they‘As to looking, I have heard it said, Mrs Ned,’ returned MrGeorge, angrily, ‘that a cat is free to contemplate a monarch; were glad to die, would refrain from acting the part of vulturesin regard to other members of this family who are liv-and therefore I hope I have some right, having been born amember of this family, to look at a person who only came ing. I think it would be full as well, if not better, if thoseinto it by marriage. As to eating, I beg to say, whatever bitter-individuals would keep at home, contenting themselves with66

Charles Dickenswhat they have got (luckily for them) already; instead of hoveringabout, and thrusting their fingers into, a family pie, much obliged to you, really. We came to be entertained, andtwo young ladies, I think we’ll go. Mr Pecksniff, we are verywhich they flavour much more than enough, I can tell them, you have far surpassed our utmost expectations, in the amusementyou have provided for us. Thank you. Good-bye!’when they are fifty miles away.’‘I might have been prepared for this!’ cried the strong-minded With such departing words, did this strong-minded femalewoman, looking about her with a disdainful smile as she paralyse the Pecksniffian energies; and so she swept out of themoved towards the door, followed by her three daughters. room, and out of the house, attended by her daughters, who,‘Indeed I was fully prepared for it from the first. What else as with one accord, elevated their three noses in the air, andcould I expect in such an atmosphere as this!’joined in a contemptuous titter. As they passed the parlour‘Don’t direct your halfpay-officers’ gaze at me, ma’am, if window on the outside, they were seen to counterfeit a perfectyou please,’ interposed Miss Charity; ‘for I won’t bear it.’ transport of delight among themselves; and with this final blowThis was a smart stab at a pension enjoyed by the strongmindedwoman, during her second widowhood and before Before Mr Pecksniff or any of his remaining visitors couldand great discouragement for those within, they vanished.her last coverture. It told immensely.offer a remark, another figure passed this window, coming, at‘I passed from the memory of a grateful country, you very a great rate in the opposite direction; and immediately afterwards,Mr Spottletoe burst into the chamber. Compared withmiserable minx,’ said Mrs Ned, ‘when I entered this family;and I feel now, though I did not feel then, that it served me his present state of heat, he had gone out a man of snow orright, and that I lost my claim upon the United Kingdom of ice. His head distilled such oil upon his whiskers, that theyGreat Britain and Ireland when I so degraded myself. Now, were rich and clogged with unctuous drops; his face was violentlyinflamed, his limbs trembled; and he gasped and strovemy dears, if you’re quite ready, and have sufficiently improvedyourselves by taking to heart the genteel example of these for breath.67

Martin Chuzzlewit‘My good sir!’ cried Mr Pecksniff.of course not! She’s not this fellow’s creature. Oh, of course‘Oh yes!’ returned the other; ‘oh yes, certainly! Oh to be not!’sure! Oh, of course! You hear him? You hear him? all of you!’ Adding to these exclamations a kind of ironical howl, and‘What’s the matter?’ cried several voices.gazing upon the company for one brief instant afterwards, in‘Oh nothing!’ cried Spottletoe, still gasping. ‘Nothing at a sudden silence, the irritated gentleman started off again atall! It’s of no consequence! Ask him! He’ll tell you!’ the same tremendous pace, and was seen no more.‘I do not understand our friend,’ said Mr Pecksniff, lookingabout him in utter amazement. ‘I assure you that he is and opportune evasion of the family was at least as great aIt was in vain for Mr Pecksniff to assure them that this newquite unintelligible to me.’shock and surprise to him as to anybody else. Of all the‘Unintelligible, sir!’ cried the other. ‘Unintelligible! Do you bullyings and denunciations that were ever heaped on onemean to say, sir, that you don’t know what has happened! unlucky head, none can ever have exceeded in energy andThat you haven’t decoyed us here, and laid a plot and a plan heartiness those with which he was complimented by each ofagainst us! Will you venture to say that you didn’t know Mr his remaining relatives, singly, upon bidding him farewell.Chuzzlewit was going, sir, and that you don’t know he’s gone, The moral position taken by Mr Tigg was something quitesir?’tremendous; and the deaf cousin, who had the complicated‘Gone!’ was the general cry.aggravation of seeing all the proceedings and hearing nothing‘Gone,’ echoed Mr Spottletoe. ‘Gone while we were sittinghere. Gone. Nobody knows where he’s gone. Oh, of scraper, and afterwards distributed impressions of them allbut the catastrophe, actually scraped her shoes upon thecourse not! Nobody knew he was going. Oh, of course not! over the top step, in token that she shook the dust from herThe landlady thought up to the very last moment that they feet before quitting that dissembling and perfidious mansion.were merely going for a ride; she had no other suspicion. Oh, Mr Pecksniff had, in short, but one comfort, and that was68

Charles Dickensthe knowledge that all these his relations and friends had hatedCHAPTER FIVEhim to the very utmost extent before; and that he, for hispart, had not distributed among them any more love than,CONTAINING A FULL ACCOUNT OF THEwith his ample capital in that respect, he could comfortablyINSTALLATION OF MR PECKSNIFF’S NEWafford to part with. This view of his affairs yielded him greatPUPIL INTO THE BOSOM OF MRconsolation; and the fact deserves to be noted, as showingPECKSNIFF’S FAMILY. WITH ALL THEwith what ease a good man may be consoled under circumstancesof failure and disappointment.FESTIVITIES HELD ON THAT OCCASION,AND THE GREAT ENJOYMENT OF MRPINCHTHE BEST OF ARCHITECTS and land surveyors kept a horse, inwhom the enemies already mentioned more than once in thesepages pretended to detect a fanciful resemblance to his master.Not in his outward person, for he was a raw-boned, haggardhorse, always on a much shorter allowance of corn than MrPecksniff; but in his moral character, wherein, said they, he wasfull of promise, but of no performance. He was always in amanner, going to go, and never going. When at his slowest rateof travelling he would sometimes lift up his legs so high, anddisplay such mighty action, that it was difficult to believe hewas doing less than fourteen miles an hour; and he was for ever69

Martin Chuzzlewitso perfectly satisfied with his own speed, and so little disconcertedby opportunities of comparing himself with the fastest ped desires to go, and would go if he might! Who couldhostler ‘not to let him go yet,’ dost thou believe that quadru-trotters, that the illusion was the more difficult of resistance. repress a smile—of love for thee, Tom Pinch, and not in jestHe was a kind of animal who infused into the breasts of strangersa lively sense of hope, and possessed all those who knew knows—to think that such a holiday as lies before thee shouldat thy expense, for thou art poor enough already, Heavenhim better with a grim despair. In what respect, having these awaken that quick flow and hurry of the spirits, in whichpoints of character, he might be fairly likened to his master, thou settest down again, almost untasted, on the kitchen window-sill,that great white mug (put by, by thy own hands,that good man’s slanderers only can explain. But it is a melancholytruth, and a deplorable instance of the uncharitableness last night, that breakfast might not hold thee late), and layestof the world, that they made the comparison.yonder crust upon the seat beside thee, to be eaten on theIn this horse, and the hooded vehicle, whatever its proper road, when thou art calmer in thy high rejoicing! Who, asname might be, to which he was usually harnessed—it was thou drivest off, a happy, man, and noddest with a gratefulmore like a gig with a tumour than anything else—all Mr lovingness to Pecksniff in his nightcap at his chamber-window,would not cry, ‘Heaven speed thee, Tom, and send thatPinch’s thoughts and wishes centred, one bright frosty morning;for with this gallant equipage he was about to drive to thou wert going off for ever to some quiet home where thouSalisbury alone, there to meet with the new pupil, and thence mightst live at peace, and sorrow should not touch thee!’to bring him home in triumph.What better time for driving, riding, walking, movingBlessings on thy simple heart, Tom Pinch, how proudly through the air by any means, than a fresh, frosty morning,dost thou button up that scanty coat, called by a sad misnomer,for these many years, a ‘great’ one; and how thoroughly, blood, and tingles in the frame from head to foot! This waswhen hope runs cheerily through the veins with the briskas with thy cheerful voice thou pleasantly adjurest Sam the the glad commencement of a bracing day in early winter, such70

Charles Dickensas may put the languid summer season (speaking of it when it the tollman’s wife, who had that moment checked a waggon,can’t be had) to the blush, and shame the spring for being run back into the little house again like mad, to say (she knew)sometimes cold by halves. The sheep-bells rang as clearly in that Mr Pinch was coming up. And she was right, for whenthe vigorous air, as if they felt its wholesome influence like he drew within hail of the gate, forth rushed the tollman’sliving creatures; the trees, in lieu of leaves or blossoms, shed children, shrieking in tiny chorus, ‘Mr Pinch!’ to Tom’s intensedelight. The very tollman, though an ugly chap in gen-upon the ground a frosty rime that sparkled as it fell, andmight have been the dust of diamonds. So it was to Tom. eral, and one whom folks were rather shy of handling, cameFrom cottage chimneys, smoke went streaming up high, high, out himself to take the toll, and give him rough good morning;and that with all this, and a glimpse of the family break-as if the earth had lost its grossness, being so fair, and mustnot be oppressed by heavy vapour. The crust of ice on the else fast on a little round table before the fire, the crust Tom Pinchrippling brook was so transparent, and so thin in texture, that had brought away with him acquired as rich a flavour asthe lively water might of its own free will have stopped—in though it had been cut from a fairy loaf.Tom’s glad mind it had—to look upon the lovely morning. But there was more than this. It was not only the marriedAnd lest the sun should break this charm too eagerly, there people and the children who gave Tom Pinch a welcome asmoved between him and the ground, a mist like that which he passed. No, no. Sparkling eyes and snowy breasts camewaits upon the moon on summer nights—the very same to hurriedly to many an upper casement as he clattered by, andTom—and wooed him to dissolve it gently.gave him back his greeting: not stinted either, but sevenfold,Tom Pinch went on; not fast, but with a sense of rapid good measure. They were all merry. They all laughed. Andmotion, which did just as well; and as he went, all kinds of some of the wickedest among them even kissed their hands asthings occurred to keep him happy. Thus when he came within Tom looked back. For who minded poor Mr Pinch? Theresight of the turnpike, and was—oh a long way off!—he saw was no harm in him.71

Martin ChuzzlewitAnd now the morning grew so fair, and all things were so to Mr Pinch’s rearward observation, as if he had worn thatwide awake and gay, that the sun seeming to say—Tom had garment wrong side foremost. He continued to sing with sono doubt he said—’I can’t stand it any longer; I must have a much energy, that he did not hear the sound of wheels until itlook,’ streamed out in radiant majesty. The mist, too shy and was close behind him; when he turned a whimsical face and agentle for such lusty company, fled off, quite scared, before very merry pair of blue eyes on Mr Pinch, and checked himselfdirectly.it; and as it swept away, the hills and mounds and distantpasture lands, teeming with placid sheep and noisy crows, ‘Why, Mark?’ said Tom Pinch, stopping. ‘Who’d havecame out as bright as though they were unrolled bran new for thought of seeing you here? Well! this is surprising!’the occasion. In compliment to which discovery, the brook Mark touched his hat, and said, with a very sudden decreasestood still no longer, but ran briskly off to bear the tidings to of vivacity, that he was going to Salisbury.the water-mill, three miles away.‘And how spruce you are, too!’ said Mr Pinch, surveyingMr Pinch was jogging along, full of pleasant thoughts and him with great pleasure. ‘Really, I didn’t think you were halfcheerful influences, when he saw, upon the path before him, such a tight-made fellow, Mark!’going in the same direction with himself, a traveller on foot, ‘Thankee, Mr Pinch. Pretty well for that, I believe. It’s notwho walked with a light quick step, and sang as he went—for my fault, you know. With regard to being spruce, sir, that’scertain in a very loud voice, but not unmusically. He was a where it is, you see.’ And here he looked particularly gloomy.young fellow, of some five or six-and-twenty perhaps, and ‘Where what is?’ Mr Pinch demanded.was dressed in such a free and fly-away fashion, that the long ‘Where the aggravation of it is. Any man may be in goodends of his loose red neckcloth were streaming out behind spirits and good temper when he’s well dressed. There an’thim quite as often as before; and the bunch of bright winter much credit in that. If I was very ragged and very jolly, then Iberries in the buttonhole of his velveteen coat was as visible should begin to feel I had gained a point, Mr Pinch.’72

Charles Dickens‘So you were singing just now, to bear up, as it were, against ‘You’re not very fond of anybody, perhaps?’ said Pinch.being well dressed, eh, Mark?’ said Pinch.‘Not particular, sir, I think.’‘Your conversation’s always equal to print, sir,’ rejoined Mark, ‘But the way would be, you know, Mark, according to yourwith a broad grin. ‘That was it.’views of things,’ said Mr Pinch, ‘to marry somebody you‘Well!’ cried Pinch, ‘you are the strangest young man, Mark, didn’t like, and who was very disagreeable.’I ever knew in my life. I always thought so; but now I am ‘So it would, sir; but that might be carrying out a principlequite certain of it. I am going to Salisbury, too. Will you get a little too far, mightn’t it?’in? I shall be very glad of your company.’‘Perhaps it might,’ said Mr Pinch. At which they bothThe young fellow made his acknowledgments and accepted laughed gayly.the offer; stepping into the carriage directly, and seating himselfon the very edge of the seat with his body half out of it, though. I don’t believe there ever was a man as could come‘Lord bless you, sir,’ said Mark, ‘you don’t half know me,to express his being there on sufferance, and by the politeness out so strong under circumstances that would make otherof Mr Pinch. As they went along, the conversation proceeded men miserable, as I could, if I could only get a chance. But Iafter this manner.can’t get a chance. It’s my opinion that nobody never will‘I more than half believed, just now, seeing you so very know half of what’s in me, unless something very unexpectedsmart,’ said Pinch, ‘that you must be going to be married, turns up. And I don’t see any prospect of that. I’m a-going toMark.’leave the Dragon, sir.’‘Well, sir, I’ve thought of that, too,’ he replied. ‘There might ‘Going to leave the Dragon!’ cried Mr Pinch, looking atbe some credit in being jolly with a wife, ‘specially if the childrenhad the measles and that, and was very fractious indeed. away!’him with great astonishment. ‘Why, Mark, you take my breathBut I’m a’most afraid to try it. I don’t see my way clear.’ ‘Yes, sir,’ he rejoined, looking straight before him and a73

Martin Chuzzlewitlong way off, as men do sometimes when they cogitate profoundly.‘What’s the use of my stopping at the Dragon? It as he answered that he didn’t suppose it would be much of anMark looked more fixedly before him, and further off still,an’t at all the sort of place for me. When I left London (I’m a object to her. There were plenty of smart young fellows asKentish man by birth, though), and took that situation here, would be glad of the place. He knew a dozen himself.I quite made up my mind that it was the dullest little out-ofthe-waycorner in England, and that there would be some all sure that Mrs Lupin would be glad of them. Why, I always‘That’s probable enough,’ said Mr Pinch, ‘but I am not atcredit in being jolly under such circumstances. But, Lord, supposed that Mrs Lupin and you would make a match of it,there’s no dullness at the Dragon! Skittles, cricket, quoits, Mark; and so did every one, as far as I know.’nine-pins, comic songs, choruses, company round the chimneycorner every winter’s evening. Any man could be jolly at was in a direct way courting-like to her, nor she to me, but I‘I never,’ Mark replied, in some confusion, ‘said nothing asthe Dragon. There’s no credit in that.’don’t know what I mightn’t do one of these odd times, and‘But if common report be true for once, Mark, as I think it what she mightn’t say in answer. Well, sir, that wouldn’t suit.’is, being able to confirm it by what I know myself,’ said Mr ‘Not to be landlord of the Dragon, Mark?’ cried Mr Pinch.Pinch, ‘you are the cause of half this merriment, and set it ‘No, sir, certainly not,’ returned the other, withdrawing hisgoing.’gaze from the horizon, and looking at his fellow-traveller.‘There may be something in that, too, sir,’ answered Mark. ‘Why that would be the ruin of a man like me. I go and sit‘But that’s no consolation.’down comfortably for life, and no man never finds me out.‘Well!’ said Mr Pinch, after a short silence, his usually subduedtone being even now more subdued than ever. ‘I can being jolly? Why, he couldn’t help it, if he tried.’What would be the credit of the landlord of the Dragon’shardly think enough of what you tell me. Why, what will ‘Does Mrs Lupin know you are going to leave her?’ Mrbecome of Mrs Lupin, Mark?’Pinch inquired.74

Charles Dickens‘I haven’t broke it to her yet, sir, but I must. I’m looking lively office nat’rally. Even a tax-gatherer must find his feelingsrather worked upon, at times. There’s lots of trades inout this morning for something new and suitable,’ he said,nodding towards the city.which I should have an opportunity, I think.’‘What kind of thing now?’ Mr Pinch demanded.Mr Pinch was so perfectly overwhelmed by these remarks‘I was thinking,’ Mark replied, ‘of something in the gravedigging.way.’two on some indifferent subject, and cast sidelong glances atthat he could do nothing but occasionally exchange a word or‘Good gracious, Mark?’ cried Mr Pinch.the bright face of his odd friend (who seemed quite unconsciousof his observation), until they reached a certain corner of‘It’s a good damp, wormy sort of business, sir,’ said Mark,shaking his head argumentatively, ‘and there might be some the road, close upon the outskirts of the city, when Mark saidcredit in being jolly, with one’s mind in that pursuit, unless he would jump down there, if he pleased.grave-diggers is usually given that way; which would be a drawback.You don’t happen to know how that is in general, do progress of his observation just then made the discovery that‘But bless my soul, Mark,’ said Mr Pinch, who in theyou, sir?’the bosom of his companion’s shirt was as much exposed as if‘No,’ said Mr Pinch, ‘I don’t indeed. I never thought upon it was Midsummer, and was ruffled by every breath of air,the subject.’‘why don’t you wear a waistcoat?’‘In case of that not turning out as well as one could wish, ‘What’s the good of one, sir?’ asked Mark.you know,’ said Mark, musing again, ‘there’s other businesses. ‘Good of one?’ said Mr Pinch. ‘Why, to keep your chestUndertaking now. That’s gloomy. There might be credit to warm.’be gained there. A broker’s man in a poor neighbourhood ‘Lord love you, sir!’ cried Mark, ‘you don’t know me. Mywouldn’t be bad perhaps. A jailor sees a deal of misery. A chest don’t want no warming. Even if it did, what would nodoctor’s man is in the very midst of murder. A bailiff’s an’t a waistcoat bring it to? Inflammation of the lungs, perhaps?75

Martin ChuzzlewitWell, there’d be some credit in being jolly, with a inflammationof the lungs.’horses, donkeys, baskets, waggons, garden-stuff, meat, tripe,oughfares about the market-place being filled with carts,As Mr Pinch returned no other answer than such as was pies, poultry and huckster’s wares of every opposite descriptionand possible variety of character. Then there were youngconveyed in his breathing very hard, and opening his eyesvery wide, and nodding his head very much, Mark thanked farmers and old farmers with smock-frocks, brown great-coats,him for his ride, and without troubling him to stop, jumped drab great-coats, red worsted comforters, leather-leggings,lightly down. And away he fluttered, with his red neckerchief,and his open coat, down a cross-lane; turning back from standing about in groups, or talking noisily together on thewonderful shaped hats, hunting-whips, and rough sticks,time to time to nod to Mr Pinch, and looking one of the tavern steps, or paying and receiving huge amounts of greasymost careless, good-humoured comical fellows in life. His wealth, with the assistance of such bulky pocket-books thatlate companion, with a thoughtful face pursued his way to when they were in their pockets it was apoplexy to get themSalisbury.out, and when they were out it was spasms to get them inMr Pinch had a shrewd notion that Salisbury was a very again. Also there were farmers’ wives in beaver bonnets anddesperate sort of place; an exceeding wild and dissipated city; red cloaks, riding shaggy horses purged of all earthly passions,and when he had put up the horse, and given the hostler to who went soberly into all manner of places without desiringunderstand that he would look in again in the course of an to know why, and who, if required, would have stood stockhour or two to see him take his corn, he set forth on a stroll still in a china shop, with a complete dinner-service at eachabout the streets with a vague and not unpleasant idea that hoof. Also a great many dogs, who were strongly interestedthey teemed with all kinds of mystery and bedevilment. To in the state of the market and the bargains of their masters;one of his quiet habits this little delusion was greatly assisted and a great confusion of tongues, both brute and human.by the circumstance of its being market-day, and the thor-Mr Pinch regarded everything exposed for sale with great76

Charles Dickensdelight, and was particularly struck by the itinerant cutlery, ing is, ugly enough, to be the most correct of all mechanicalwhich he considered of the very keenest kind, insomuch that performers; in Mr Pinch’s eyes, however they were smallerhe purchased a pocket knife with seven blades in it, and not a than Geneva ware; and when he saw one very bloated watchcut (as he afterwards found out) among them. When he had announced as a repeater, gifted with the uncommon powerexhausted the market-place, and watched the farmers safe into of striking every quarter of an hour inside the pocket of itsthe market dinner, he went back to look after the horse. Havingseen him eat unto his heart’s content he issued forth again, buy it.happy owner, he almost wished that he were rich enough toto wander round the town and regale himself with the shop But what were even gold and silver, precious stones and clockwork,to the bookshops, whence a pleasant smell of paper freshlywindows; previously taking a long stare at the bank, and wonderingin what direction underground the caverns might be pressed came issuing forth, awakening instant recollections ofwhere they kept the money; and turning to look back at one some new grammar had at school, long time ago, with ‘Masteror two young men who passed him, whom he knew to be Pinch, Grove House Academy,’ inscribed in faultless writingarticled to solicitors in the town; and who had a sort of fearfulinterest in his eyes, as jolly dogs who knew a thing or two, rows on rows of volumes neatly ranged within—what happi-on the fly-leaf! That whiff of russia leather, too, and all thoseand kept it up tremendously.ness did they suggest! And in the window were the spick-andspannew works from London, with the title-pages, and some-But the shops. First of all there were the jewellers’ shops,with all the treasures of the earth displayed therein, and such times even the first page of the first chapter, laid wide open;large silver watches hanging up in every pane of glass, that if tempting unwary men to begin to read the book, and then, inthey were anything but first-rate goers it certainly was not the impossibility of turning over, to rush blindly in, and buy it!because the works could decently complain of want of room. Here too were the dainty frontispiece and trim vignette, pointinglike handposts on the outskirts of great cities, to the In good sooth they were big enough, and perhaps, as the say-rich77

Martin Chuzzlewitstock of incident beyond; and store of books, with many a and chafe that wonderful lamp within him, that when hegrave portrait and time-honoured name, whose matter he knew turned his face towards the busy street, a crowd of phantomswell, and would have given mines to have, in any form, upon waited on his pleasure, and he lived again, with new delight,the narrow shell beside his bed at Mr Pecksniff’s. What a heartbreakingshop it was!He had less interest now in the chemists’ shops, with theirthe happy days before the Pecksniff era.There was another; not quite so bad at first, but still a tryingshop; where children’s books were sold, and where poor in their very stoppers); and in their agreeable compromisesgreat glowing bottles (with smaller repositories of brightnessRobinson Crusoe stood alone in his might, with dog and between medicine and perfumery, in the shape of toothsomehatchet, goat-skin cap and fowling-pieces; calmly surveying lozenges and virgin honey. Neither had he the least regardPhilip Quarn and the host of imitators round him, and callingMr Pinch to witness that he, of all the crowd, impressed metropolitan waistcoat patterns were hanging up, which by(but he never had much) for the tailors’, where the newestone solitary footprint on the shore of boyish memory, whereof some strange transformation always looked amazing there,the tread of generations should not stir the lightest grain of and never appeared at all like the same thing anywhere else.sand. And there too were the Persian tales, with flying chests But he stopped to read the playbill at the theatre and surveyedthe doorway with a kind of awe, which was not dimin-and students of enchanted books shut up for years in caverns;and there too was Abudah, the merchant, with the terrible ished when a sallow gentleman with long dark hair came out,little old woman hobbling out of the box in his bedroom; and told a boy to run home to his lodgings and bring downand there the mighty talisman, the rare Arabian Nights, with his broadsword. Mr Pinch stood rooted to the spot on hearingthis, and might have stood there until dark, but that theCassim Baba, divided by four, like the ghost of a dreadfulsum, hanging up, all gory, in the robbers’ cave. Which matchlesswonders, coming fast on Mr Pinch’s mind, did so rub up he tore himselfold cathedral bell began to ring for vesper service, on whichaway.78

Charles DickensNow, the organist’s assistant was a friend of Mr Pinch’s, ties of stone and wood and glass grew dimmer in the darkness,these visions grew so much the brighter that Tom mightwhich was a good thing, for he too was a very quiet gentlesoul, and had been, like Tom, a kind of old-fashioned boy at have forgotten the new pupil and the expectant master, andschool, though well liked by the noisy fellow too. As good have sat there pouring out his grateful heart till midnight, butluck would have it (Tom always said he had great good luck) for a very earthy old verger insisting on locking up the cathedralforthwith. So he took leave of his friend, with manythe assistant chanced that very afternoon to be on duty byhimself, with no one in the dusty organ loft but Tom; so thanks, groped his way out, as well as he could, into the nowwhile he played, Tom helped him with the stops; and finally, lamp-lighted streets, and hurried off to get his dinner.the service being just over, Tom took the organ himself. It All the farmers being by this time jogging homewards, therewas then turning dark, and the yellow light that streamed in was nobody in the sanded parlour of the tavern where he hadthrough the ancient windows in the choir was mingled with a left the horse; so he had his little table drawn out close beforemurky red. As the grand tones resounded through the church, the fire, and fell to work upon a well-cooked steak and smokingthey seemed, to Tom, to find an echo in the depth of every hot potatoes, with a strong appreciation of their excellence,ancient tomb, no less than in the deep mystery of his own and a very keen sense of enjoyment. Beside him, too, thereheart. Great thoughts and hopes came crowding on his mind stood a jug of most stupendous Wiltshire beer; and the effectas the rich music rolled upon the air and yet among them— of the whole was so transcendent, that he was obliged everysomething more grave and solemn in their purpose, but the now and then to lay down his knife and fork, rub his hands,same—were all the images of that day, down to its very lightestrecollection of childhood. The feeling that the sounds Mr Pinch had taken a book out of his pocket, and couldand think about it. By the time the cheese and celery came,awakened, in the moment of their existence, seemed to includehis whole life and being; and as the surrounding realiinga little, now reading a little, and now stopping toafford to trifle with the viands; now eating a little, now drink-wonder79

Martin Chuzzlewitwhat sort of a young man the new pupil would turn out to or ten minutes looking at the fire in silence. At length he rosebe. He had passed from this latter theme and was deep in his and divested himself of his shawl and great-coat, which (farbook again, when the door opened, and another guest came different from Mr Pinch’s) was a very warm and thick one;in, bringing with him such a quantity of cold air, that he but he was not a whit more conversational out of his greatcoatthan in it, for he sat down again in the same place andpositively seemed at first to put the fire out.‘Very hard frost to-night, sir,’ said the newcomer, courteouslyacknowledging Mr Pinch’s withdrawal of the little table, He was young—one-and-twenty, perhaps—and handsome;attitude, and leaning back in his chair, began to bite his nails.that he might have place: ‘Don’t disturb yourself, I beg.’ with a keen dark eye, and a quickness of look and mannerThough he said this with a vast amount of consideration which made Tom sensible of a great contrast in his own bearing,and caused him to feel even more shy than usual.for Mr Pinch’s comfort, he dragged one of the great leatherbottomedchairs to the very centre of the hearth, notwithstanding;and sat down in front of the fire, with a foot on turned to look at. Tom made frequent reference to it also;There was a clock in the room, which the stranger ofteneach hob.partly from a nervous sympathy with its taciturn companion;‘My feet are quite numbed. Ah! Bitter cold to be sure.’ and partly because the new pupil was to inquire for him at‘You have been in the air some considerable time, I dare half after six, and the hands were getting on towards thatsay?’ said Mr Pinch.hour. Whenever the stranger caught him looking at this clock,‘All day. Outside a coach, too.’a kind of confusion came upon Tom as if he had been found‘That accounts for his making the room so cool,’ thought out in something; and it was a perception of his uneasinessMr Pinch. ‘Poor fellow! How thoroughly chilled he must which caused the younger man to say, perhaps, with a smile:be!’‘We both appear to be rather particular about the time. TheThe stranger became thoughtful likewise, and sat for five fact is, I have an engagement to meet a gentleman here.’80

Charles Dickens‘So have I,’ said Mr Pinch.‘I am very glad to hear it,’ returned Martin, shaking hands‘At half-past six,’ said the stranger.with him again; ‘for I assure you, I was thinking there could‘At half-past six,’ said Tom in the very same breath; whereuponthe other looked at him with some surprise.‘No, really!’ said Tom, with great pleasure. ‘Are you seri-be no such luck as Mr Pinch’s turning out like you.’‘The young gentleman, I expect,’ remarked Tom, timidly, ous?’‘was to inquire at that time for a person by the name of Pinch.’ ‘Upon my word I am,’ replied his new acquaintance. ‘You‘Dear me!’ cried the other, jumping up. ‘And I have been and I will get on excellently well, I know; which it’s no smallkeeping the fire from you all this while! I had no idea you relief to me to feel, for to tell you the truth, I am not at all thewere Mr Pinch. I am the Mr Martin for whom you were to sort of fellow who could get on with everybody, and that’sinquire. Pray excuse me. How do you do? Oh, do draw nearer, the point on which I had the greatest doubts. But they’repray!’quite relieved now.—Do me the favour to ring the bell, will‘Thank you,’ said Tom, ‘thank you. I am not at all cold, you?’and you are; and we have a cold ride before us. Well, if you Mr Pinch rose, and complied with great alacrity—the handlewish it, I will. I—I am very glad,’ said Tom, smiling with an hung just over Martin’s head, as he warmed himself—andembarrassed frankness peculiarly his, and which was as plainly listened with a smiling face to what his friend went on to say.a confession of his own imperfections, and an appeal to the It was:kindness of the person he addressed, as if he had drawn one ‘If you like punch, you’ll allow me to order a glass apiece, asup in simple language and committed it to paper: ‘I am very hot as it can be made, that we may usher in our friendship inglad indeed that you turn out to be the party I expected. I was a becoming manner. To let you into a secret, Mr Pinch, Ithinking, but a minute ago, that I could wish him to be like never was so much in want of something warm and cheeringyou.’in my life; but I didn’t like to run the chance of being found81

Martin Chuzzlewitdrinking it, without knowing what kind of person you were; then remembering that Mr Pecksniff had privately cautionedfor first impressions, you know, often go a long way, and last him to say nothing in reference to the old gentleman of thea long time.’same name who had lodged at the Dragon, but to reserve allMr Pinch assented, and the punch was ordered. In due course mention of that person for him, he had no better means ofit came; hot and strong. After drinking to each other in the hiding his confusion than by raising his own glass to his mouth.steaming mixture, they became quite confidential.They looked at each other out of their respective tumblers‘I’m a sort of relation of Pecksniff’s, you know,’ said the for a few seconds, and then put them down empty.young man.‘I told them in the stable to be ready for us ten minutes‘Indeed!’ cried Mr Pinch.ago,’ said Mr Pinch, glancing at the clock again. ‘Shall we‘Yes. My grandfather is his cousin, so he’s kith and kin to go?’me, somehow, if you can make that out. I can’t.’‘If you please,’ returned the other.‘Then Martin is your Christian name?’ said Mr Pinch, ‘Would you like to drive?’ said Mr Pinch; his whole face beamingwith a consciousness of the splendour of his offer. ‘You shall, ifthoughtfully. ‘Oh!’‘Of course it is,’ returned his friend: ‘I wish it was my surnamefor my own is not a very pretty one, and it takes a long ‘Why, that depends, Mr Pinch,’ said Martin, laughing, ‘uponyou wish.’time to sign Chuzzlewit is my name.’what sort of a horse you have. Because if he’s a bad one, I‘Dear me!’ cried Mr Pinch, with an involuntary start. would rather keep my hands warm by holding them comfortablyin my greatcoat pockets.’‘You’re not surprised at my having two names, I suppose?’returned the other, setting his glass to his lips. ‘Most people He appeared to think this such a good joke, that Mr Pinchhave.’was quite sure it must be a capital one. Accordingly, he laughed‘Oh, no,’ said Mr Pinch, ‘not at all. Oh dear no! Well!’ And too, and was fully persuaded that he enjoyed it very much.82

Charles DickensThen he settled his bill, and Mr Chuzzlewit paid for the punch; It was a clear evening, with a bright moon. The whole landscapewas silvered by its light and by the hoar-frost; and ev-and having wrapped themselves up, to the extent of their respectivemeans, they went out together to the front door, erything looked exquisitely beautiful. At first, the great serenityand peace through which they travelled, disposed themwhere Mr Pecksniff’s property stopped the way.‘I won’t drive, thank you, Mr Pinch,’ said Martin, getting both to silence; but in a very short time the punch withininto the sitter’s place. ‘By the bye, there’s a box of mine. Can them and the healthful air without, made them loquacious,we manage to take it?’and they talked incessantly. When they were halfway home,‘Oh, certainly,’ said Tom. ‘Put it in, Dick, anywhere!’ and stopped to give the horse some water, Martin (who wasIt was not precisely of that convenient size which would very generous with his money) ordered another glass of punch,admit of its being squeezed into any odd corner, but Dick the which they drank between them, and which had not the effectof making them less conversational than before. Theirhostler got it in somehow, and Mr Chuzzlewit helped him. Itwas all on Mr Pinch’s side, and Mr Chuzzlewit said he was principal topic of discourse was naturally Mr Pecksniff andvery much afraid it would encumber him; to which Tom his family; of whom, and of the great obligations they hadsaid, ‘Not at all;’ though it forced him into such an awkward heaped upon him, Tom Pinch, with the tears standing in hisposition, that he had much ado to see anything but his own eyes, drew such a picture as would have inclined any one ofknees. But it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good; and common feeling almost to revere them; and of which Mrthe wisdom of the saying was verified in this instance; for the Pecksniff had not the slightest foresight or preconceived idea,cold air came from Mr Pinch’s side of the carriage, and by or he certainly (being very humble) would not have sent Tominterposing a perfect wall of box and man between it and the Pinch to bring the pupil home.new pupil, he shielded that young gentleman effectually; which In this way they went on, and on, and on—in the languagewas a great comfort.of the story-books—until at last the village lights appeared83

Martin Chuzzlewitbefore them, and the church spire cast a long reflection on the loveliest and most beautiful faces you can possibly picture tograveyard grass; as if it were a dial (alas, the truest in the world!) yourself.’marking, whatever light shone out of Heaven, the flight of ‘And yet I am able to picture a beautiful one,’ said his friend,days and weeks and years, by some new shadow on that solemnground.‘She came’ said Tom, laying his hand upon the other’s arm,thoughtfully, ‘or should be, if I have any memory.’‘A pretty church!’ said Martin, observing that his companionslackened the slack pace of the horse, as they approached. light; and when I saw her, over my shoulder, standing just‘for the first time very early in the morning, when it was hardly‘Is it not?’ cried Tom, with great pride. ‘There’s the sweetestlittle organ there you ever heard. I play it for them.’ be a spirit. A moment’s reflection got the better of that, ofwithin the porch, I turned quite cold, almost believing her to‘Indeed?’ said Martin. ‘It is hardly worth the trouble, I course, and fortunately it came to my relief so soon, that Ishould think. What do you get for that, now?’didn’t leave off playing.’‘Nothing,’ answered Tom.‘Why fortunately?’‘Well,’ returned his friend, ‘you ARE a very strange fellow!’ ‘Why? Because she stood there, listening. I had my spectacleson, and saw her through the chinks in the curtains asTo which remark there succeeded a brief silence.‘When I say nothing,’ observed Mr Pinch, cheerfully, ‘I am plainly as I see you; and she was beautiful. After a while shewrong, and don’t say what I mean, because I get a great deal glided off, and I continued to play until she was out of hearing.’of pleasure from it, and the means of passing some of thehappiest hours I know. It led to something else the other day; ‘Why did you do that?’but you will not care to hear about that I dare say?’‘Don’t you see?’ responded Tom. ‘Because she might supposeI hadn’t seen her; and might return.’‘Oh yes I shall. What?’‘It led to my seeing,’ said Tom, in a lower voice, ‘one of the ‘And did she?’84

Charles Dickens‘Certainly she did. Next morning, and next evening too; The new pupil was clearly very much amazed by Mr Pinch’sbut always when there were no people about, and always alone. weakness, and would probably have told him so, and givenI rose earlier and sat there later, that when she came, she might him some good advice, but for their opportune arrival at Mrfind the church door open, and the organ playing, and might Pecksniff’s door; the front door this time, on account of thenot be disappointed. She strolled that way for some days, and occasion being one of ceremony and rejoicing. The same manalways stayed to listen. But she is gone now, and of all unlikelythings in this wide world, it is perhaps the most im-Pinch in the morning not to yield to his rabid desire to start;was in waiting for the horse who had been adjured by Mrprobable that I shall ever look upon her face again.’ and after delivering the animal into his charge, and beseechingMr Chuzzlewit in a whisper never to reveal a syllable of‘You don’t know anything more about her?’‘No.’what he had just told him in the fullness of his heart, Tom led‘And you never followed her when she went away?’ the pupil in, for instant presentation.‘Why should I distress her by doing that?’ said Tom Pinch. Mr Pecksniff had clearly not expected them for hours to‘Is it likely that she wanted my company? She came to hear come; for he was surrounded by open books, and was glancingfrom volume to volume, with a black lead-pencil in histhe organ, not to see me; and would you have had me scareher from a place she seemed to grow quite fond of? Now, mouth, and a pair of compasses in his hand, at a vast numberHeaven bless her!’ cried Tom, ‘to have given her but a minute’s of mathematical diagrams, of such extraordinary shapes thatpleasure every day, I would have gone on playing the organ at they looked like designs for fireworks. Neither had Missthose times until I was an old man; quite contented if she Charity expected them, for she was busied, with a capacioussometimes thought of a poor fellow like me, as a part of the wicker basket before her, in making impracticable nightcapsmusic; and more than recompensed if she ever mixed me up for the poor. Neither had Miss Mercy expected them, for shewith anything she liked as well as she liked that!’was sitting upon her stool, tying on the—oh good gracious!—85

Martin Chuzzlewitthe petticoat of a large doll that she was dressing for a state,’ said Mr Pecksniff, smiling, ‘but I like this better, I likeneighbour’s child—really, quite a grown-up doll, which made this better!’it more confusing—and had its little bonnet dangling by the Oh blessed star of Innocence, wherever you may be, howribbon from one of her fair curls, to which she had fastened it did you glitter in your home of ether, when the two Misslest it should be lost or sat upon. It would be difficult, if not Pecksniffs put forth each her lily hand, and gave the same,impossible, to conceive a family so thoroughly taken by surpriseas the Pecksniffs were, on this occasion.fluttering with sympathy, when Mercy, reminded of the bon-with mantling cheeks, to Martin! How did you twinkle, as ifBless my life!’ said Mr Pecksniff, looking up, and gradually net in her hair, hid her fair face and turned her head aside; theexchanging his abstracted face for one of joyful recognition. while her gentle sister plucked it out, and smote her with a‘Here already! Martin, my dear boy, I am delighted to welcomeyou to my poor house!’‘And how,’ said Mr Pecksniff, turning round after the con-sister’s soft reproof, upon her buxom shoulder!With this kind greeting, Mr Pecksniff fairly took him to templation of these passages, and taking Mr Pinch in a friendlyhis arms, and patted him several times upon the back with his manner by the elbow, ‘how has our friend used you, Martin?’right hand the while, as if to express that his feelings during ‘Very well indeed, sir. We are on the best terms, I assurethe embrace were too much for utterance.you.’‘But here,’ he said, recovering, ‘are my daughters, Martin; ‘Old Tom Pinch!’ said Mr Pecksniff, looking on him withmy two only children, whom (if you ever saw them) you affectionate sadness. ‘Ah! It seems but yesterday that Thomashave not beheld—ah, these sad family divisions!—since you was a boy fresh from a scholastic course. Yet years have passed, Iwere infants together. Nay, my dears, why blush at being detectedin your everyday pursuits? We had prepared to give Mr Pinch could say nothing. He was too much moved.think, since Thomas Pinch and I first walked the world together!’you the reception of a visitor, Martin, in our little room of But he pressed his master’s hand, and tried to thank him.86

Charles Dickens‘And Thomas Pinch and I,’ said Mr Pecksniff, in a deeper Spoker. The latter is considered a good likeness. I seem tovoice, ‘will walk it yet, in mutual faithfulness and friendship! recognize something about the left-hand corner of the nose,And if it comes to pass that either of us be run over in any of myself.’those busy crossings which divide the streets of life, the other Martin thought it was very like, but scarcely intellectualwill convey him to the hospital in Hope, and sit beside his enough. Mr Pecksniff observed that the same fault had beenbed in Bounty!’found with it before. It was remarkable it should have struck‘Well, well, well!’ he added in a happier tone, as he shook his young relation too. He was glad to see he had an eye forMr Pinch’s elbow hard. ‘No more of this! Martin, my dear art.friend, that you may be at home within these walls, let me ‘Various books you observe,’ said Mr Pecksniff, waving hisshow you how we live, and where. Come!’hand towards the wall, ‘connected with our pursuit. I haveWith that he took up a lighted candle, and, attended by his scribbled myself, but have not yet published. Be careful howyoung relative, prepared to leave the room. At the door, he you come upstairs. This,’ opening another door, ‘is my chamber.I read here when the family suppose I have retired to rest.stopped.‘You’ll bear us company, Tom Pinch?’Sometimes I injure my health rather more than I can quiteAye, cheerfully, though it had been to death, would Tom justify to myself, by doing so; but art is long and time ishave followed him; glad to lay down his life for such a man! short. Every facility you see for jotting down crude notions,‘This,’ said Mr Pecksniff, opening the door of an opposite even here.’parlour, ‘is the little room of state, I mentioned to you. My These latter words were explained by his pointing to a smallgirls have pride in it, Martin! This,’ opening another door, ‘is round table on which were a lamp, divers sheets of paper, athe little chamber in which my works (slight things at best) piece of India rubber, and a case of instruments; all put ready,have been concocted. Portrait of myself by Spiller. Bust by in case an architectural idea should come into Mr Pecksniff’s87

Martin Chuzzlewithead in the night; in which event he would instantly leap out We work here, my dear Martin. Some architects have beenof bed, and fix it for ever.bred in this room; a few, I think, Mr Pinch?’Mr Pecksniff opened another door on the same floor, and Tom fully assented; and, what is more, fully believed it.shut it again, all at once, as if it were a Blue Chamber. But ‘You see,’ said Mr Pecksniff, passing the candle rapidly frombefore he had well done so, he looked smilingly round, and roll to roll of paper, ‘some traces of our doings here. Salisburysaid, ‘Why not?’Cathedral from the north. From the south. From the east.Martin couldn’t say why not, because he didn’t know anythingat all about it. So Mr Pecksniff answered himself, by bridge. An almshouse. A jail. A church. A powder-magazine.From the west. From the south-east. From the nor’west. Athrowing open the door, and saying:A wine-cellar. A portico. A summer-house. An ice-house.‘My daughters’ room. A poor first-floor to us, but a bower Plans, elevations, sections, every kind of thing. And this,’ heto them. Very neat. Very airy. Plants you observe; hyacinths; added, having by this time reached another large chamber onbooks again; birds.’ These birds, by the bye, comprised, in the same story, with four little beds in it, ‘this is your room,all, one staggering old sparrow without a tail, which had been of which Mr Pinch here is the quiet sharer. A southern aspect;borrowed expressly from the kitchen. ‘Such trifles as girls love a charming prospect; Mr Pinch’s little library, you perceive;are here. Nothing more. Those who seek heartless splendour, everything agreeable and appropriate. If there is any additionalwould seek here in vain.’comfort you would desire to have here at anytime, pray mentionit. Even to strangers, far less to you, my dear Martin,With that he led them to the floor above.‘This,’ said Mr Pecksniff, throwing wide the door of the there is no restriction on that point.’memorable two-pair front; ‘is a room where some talent has It was undoubtedly true, and may be stated in corroborationof Mr Pecksniff, that any pupil had the most liberal per-been developed I believe. This is a room in which an idea fora steeple occurred to me that I may one day give to the world. mission to mention anything in this way that suggested itself88

Charles Dickensto his fancy. Some young gentlemen had gone on mentioningthe very same thing for five years without ever being of, and hold on by, afterwards.sort of Lord Mayor’s feast in private life; a something to thinkstopped.To this entertainment, which apart from its own intrinsic‘The domestic assistants,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘sleep above; merits, had the additional choice quality, that it was in strictand that is all.’ After which, and listening complacently as he keeping with the night, being both light and cool, Mr Pecksniffwent, to the encomiums passed by his young friend on the besought the company to do full justice.arrangements generally, he led the way to the parlour again. ‘Martin,’ he said, ‘will seat himself between you two, myHere a great change had taken place; for festive preparations dears, and Mr Pinch will come by me. Let us drink to ouron a rather extensive scale were already completed, and the new inmate, and may we be happy together! Martin, my deartwo Miss Pecksniffs were awaiting their return with hospitablelooks. There were two bottles of currant wine, white shall quarrel.’friend, my love to you! Mr Pinch, if you spare the bottle weand red; a dish of sandwiches (very long and very slim); anotherof apples; another of captain’s biscuits (which are al-as if the wine were not acid and didn’t make him wink, MrAnd trying (in his regard for the feelings of the rest) to lookways a moist and jovial sort of viand); a plate of oranges cut Pecksniff did honour to his own toast.up small and gritty; with powdered sugar, and a highly geologicalhome-made cake. The magnitude of these prepara-mingling that repays one for much disappointment and vexa-‘This,’ he said, in allusion to the party, not the wine, ‘is ations quite took away Tom Pinch’s breath; for though the tion. Let us be merry.’ Here he took a captain’s biscuit. ‘It is anew pupils were usually let down softly, as one may say, particularlyin the wine department, which had so many stages No!’poor heart that never rejoices; and our hearts are not poor.of declension, that sometimes a young gentleman was a whole With such stimulants to merriment did he beguile the time,fortnight in getting to the pump; still this was a banquet; a and do the honours of the table; while Mr Pinch, perhaps to89

Martin Chuzzlewitassure himself that what he saw and heard was holiday reality, from being a theme for jest; and that she had no patienceand not a charming dream, ate of everything, and in particulardisposed of the slim sandwiches to a surprising extent. too—but much more moderately—and saying that indeed itwith the creature; though it generally ended in her laughingNor was he stinted in his draughts of wine; but on the contrary,remembering Mr Pecksniff’s speech, attacked the bottle At length it became high time to remember the first clausewas a little too ridiculous and intolerable to be serious about.with such vigour, that every time he filled his glass anew, Miss of that great discovery made by the ancient philosopher, forCharity, despite her amiable resolves, could not repress a fixed securing health, riches, and wisdom; the infallibility of whichand stony glare, as if her eyes had rested on a ghost. Mr has been for generations verified by the enormous fortunesPecksniff also became thoughtful at those moments, not to constantly amassed by chimney-sweepers and other personssay dejected; but as he knew the vintage, it is very likely he who get up early and go to bed betimes. The young ladiesmay have been speculating on the probable condition of Mr accordingly rose, and having taken leave of Mr ChuzzlewitPinch upon the morrow, and discussing within himself the with much sweetness, and of their father with much dutybest remedies for colic.and of Mr Pinch with much condescension, retired to theirMartin and the young ladies were excellent friends already, bower. Mr Pecksniff insisted on accompanying his youngand compared recollections of their childish days, to their friend upstairs for personal superintendence of his comforts;mutual liveliness and entertainment. Miss Mercy laughed and taking him by the arm, conducted him once more to hisimmensely at everything that was said; and sometimes, after bedroom, followed by Mr Pinch, who bore the light.glancing at the happy face of Mr Pinch, was seized with such ‘Mr Pinch,’ said Pecksniff, seating himself with folded armsfits of mirth as brought her to the very confines of hysterics. on one of the spare beds. ‘I don’t see any snuffers in thatBut for these bursts of gaiety, her sister, in her better sense, candlestick. Will you oblige me by going down, and askingreproved her; observing, in an angry whisper, that it was far for a pair?’90

Charles DickensMr Pinch, only too happy to be useful, went off directly. being tired, soon fell asleep. If Martin dreamed at all, some‘You will excuse Thomas Pinch’s want of polish, Martin,’ clue to the matter of his visions may possibly be gatheredsaid Mr Pecksniff, with a smile of patronage and pity, as soon from the after-pages of this history. Those of Thomas Pinchas he had left the room. ‘He means well.’were all of holidays, church organs, and seraphic Pecksniffs. It‘He is a very good fellow, sir.’was some time before Mr Pecksniff dreamed at all, or even‘Oh, yes,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Yes. Thomas Pinch means sought his pillow, as he sat for full two hours before the firewell. He is very grateful. I have never regretted having befriendedThomas Pinch.’But he, too, slept and dreamed at last. Thus in the quiet hoursin his own chamber, looking at the coals and thinking deeply.‘I should think you never would, sir.’of the night, one house shuts in as many incoherent and incongruousfancies as a madman’s head.‘No,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘No. I hope not. Poor fellow, he isalways disposed to do his best; but he is not gifted. You willmake him useful to you, Martin, if you please. If Thomas hasa fault, it is that he is sometimes a little apt to forget hisposition. But that is soon checked. Worthy soul! You willfind him easy to manage. Good night!’‘Good night, sir.’By this time Mr Pinch had returned with the snuffers.‘And good night to you, Mr Pinch,’ said Pecksniff. ‘Andsound sleep to you both. Bless you! Bless you!’Invoking this benediction on the heads of his young friendswith great fervour, he withdrew to his own room; while they,91

CHAPTER SIXCOMPRISES, AMONG OTHER IMPOR-TANT MATTERS, PECKSNIFFIAN ANDARCHITECTURAL,AND EXACT RELATION OF THEPROGRESSMADE BY MR PINCH IN THE CONFI-DENCEAND FRIENDSHIP OF THE NEW PUPILIT WAS MORNING; and the beautiful Aurora, of whom so muchhath been written, said, and sung, did, with her rosy fingers,nip and tweak Miss Pecksniff’s nose. It was the frolicsomecustom of the Goddess, in her intercourse with the fair Cherry,so to do; or in more prosaic phrase, the tip of that feature inthe sweet girl’s countenance was always very red at breakfasttime.For the most part, indeed, it wore, at that season of theday, a scraped and frosty look, as if it had been rasped; whilea similar phenomenon developed itself in her humour, whichwas then observed to be of a sharp and acid quality, as thoughMartin Chuzzlewit92an extra lemon (figuratively speaking) had been squeezed intothe nectar of her disposition, and had rather damaged itsflavour.This additional pungency on the part of the fair young creatureled, on ordinary occasions, to such slight consequences asthe copious dilution of Mr Pinch’s tea, or to his coming offuncommonly short in respect of butter, or to other the likeresults. But on the morning after the Installation Banquet,she suffered him to wander to and fro among the eatables anddrinkables, a perfectly free and unchecked man; so utterly toMr Pinch’s wonder and confusion, that like the wretched captivewho recovered his liberty in his old age, he could makebut little use of his enlargement, and fell into a strange kindof flutter for want of some kind hand to scrape his bread, andcut him off in the article of sugar with a lump, and pay himthose other little attentions to which he was accustomed. Therewas something almost awful, too, about the self-possessionof the new pupil; who ‘troubled’ Mr Pecksniff for the loaf,and helped himself to a rasher of that gentleman’s own particularand private bacon, with all the coolness in life. Heeven seemed to think that he was doing quite a regular thing,

Charles Dickensand to expect that Mr Pinch would follow his example, since which he held in his right. ‘I have a summons here to repairhe took occasion to observe of that young man ‘that he didn’t to London; on professional business, my dear Martin; strictlyget on’; a speech of so tremendous a character, that Tom cast on professional business; and I promised my girls, long ago,down his eyes involuntarily, and felt as if he himself had committedsome horrible deed and heinous breach of Mr me. We shall go forth to-night by the heavy coach—like thethat whenever that happened again, they should accompanyPecksniff’s confidence. Indeed, the agony of having such an dove of old, my dear Martin—and it will be a week beforeindiscreet remark addressed to him before the assembled family,was breakfast enough in itself, and would, without any say olive-branches,’ observed Mr Pecksniff, in explanation, ‘Iwe again deposit our olive-branches in the passage. When Iother matter of reflection, have settled Mr Pinch’s business mean, our unpretending luggage.’and quenched his appetite, for one meal, though he had been ‘I hope the young ladies will enjoy their trip,’ said Martin.never so hungry.‘Oh! that I’m sure we shall!’ cried Mercy, clapping her hands.The young ladies, however, and Mr Pecksniff likewise, remainedin the very best of spirits in spite of these severe trials, ‘Ardent child!’ said Mr Pecksniff, gazing on her in a dreamy‘Good gracious, Cherry, my darling, the idea of London!’though with something of a mysterious understanding among way. ‘And yet there is a melancholy sweetness in these youthfulhopes! It is pleasant to know that they never can be realised.themselves. When the meal was nearly over, Mr Pecksniffsmilingly explained the cause of their common satisfaction. I remember thinking once myself, in the days of my childhood,that pickled onions grew on trees, and that every el-‘It is not often,’ he said, ‘Martin, that my daughters and Idesert our quiet home to pursue the giddy round of pleasures ephant was born with an impregnable castle on his back. Ithat revolves abroad. But we think of doing so to-day.’ have not found the fact to be so; far from it; and yet those‘Indeed, sir!’ cried the new pupil.visions have comforted me under circumstances of trial. Even‘Yes,’ said Mr Pecksniff, tapping his left hand with a letter when I have had the anguish of discovering that I have nour-93

Martin Chuzzlewitished in my breast on ostrich, and not a human pupil—even fat or lean, that he might happen to find upon the premises;in that hour of agony, they have soothed me.’but as no such animal chanced at that time to be grazing onAt this dread allusion to John Westlock, Mr Pinch precipitatelychoked in his tea; for he had that very morning received as a polite compliment that a substantial hospitality. It wasMr Pecksniff’s estate, this request must be considered rathera letter from him, as Mr Pecksniff very well knew.the finishing ornament of the conversation; for when he had‘You will take care, my dear Martin,’ said Mr Pecksniff, delivered it, Mr Pecksniff rose and led the way to that hotbedresuming his former cheerfulness, ‘that the house does not of architectural genius, the two-pair front.run away in our absence. We leave you in charge of everything.There is no mystery; all is free and open. Unlike the can best employ yourself, Martin, while I am absent. Sup-‘Let me see,’ he said, searching among the papers, ‘how youyoung man in the Eastern tale—who is described as a oneeyedalmanac, if I am not mistaken, Mr Pinch?—’Mayor of London; or a tomb for a sheriff; or your notion ofpose you were to give me your idea of a monument to a Lord‘A one-eyed calender, I think, sir,’ faltered Tom.a cow-house to be erected in a nobleman’s park. Do you know,‘They are pretty nearly the same thing, I believe,’ said Mr now,’ said Mr Pecksniff, folding his hands, and looking at hisPecksniff, smiling compassionately; ‘or they used to be in my young relation with an air of pensive interest, ‘that I shouldtime. Unlike that young man, my dear Martin, you are forbiddento enter no corner of this house; but are requested to But Martin by no means appeared to relish this suggestion.very much like to see your notion of a cow-house?’make yourself perfectly at home in every part of it. You will ‘A pump,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘is very chaste practice. I havebe jovial, my dear Martin, and will kill the fatted calf if you found that a lamp post is calculated to refine the mind andplease!’give it a classical tendency. An ornamental turnpike has a remarkableeffect upon the imagination. What do you say toThere was not the least objection, doubtless, to the youngman’s slaughtering and appropriating to his own use any calf, beginning with an ornamental turnpike?’94

Charles Dickens‘Whatever Mr Pecksniff pleased,’ said Martin, doubtfully. raculous; as there were cases on record in which the masterly‘Stay,’ said that gentleman. ‘Come! as you’re ambitious, and introduction of an additional back window, or a kitchen door,are a very neat draughtsman, you shall—ha ha!—you shall try or half-a-dozen steps, or even a water spout, had made theyour hand on these proposals for a grammar-school; regulatingyour plan, of course, by the printed particulars. Upon my substantial rewards into that gentleman’s pocket. But such isdesign of a pupil Mr Pecksniff’s own work, and had broughtword, now,’ said Mr Pecksniff, merrily, ‘I shall be very curiousto see what you make of the grammar-school. Who knows ‘When your mind requires to be refreshed by change ofthe magic of genius, which changes all it handles into gold!but a young man of your taste might hit upon something, occupation,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘Thomas Pinch will instructimpracticable and unlikely in itself, but which I could put you in the art of surveying the back garden, or in ascertaininginto shape? For it really is, my dear Martin, it really is in the the dead level of the road between this house and the fingerpost,or in any other practical and pleasing pursuit. There arefinishing touches alone, that great experience and long studyin these matters tell. Ha, ha, ha! Now it really will be,’ continuedMr Pecksniff, clapping his young friend on the back pots, in the back yard. If you could pile them up my deara cart-load of loose bricks, and a score or two of old flower-in his droll humour, ‘an amusement to me, to see what you Martin, into any form which would remind me on my returnsay of St. Peter’s at Rome, or the Mosque of St. Sophiamake of the grammar-school.’Martin readily undertook this task, and Mr Pecksniff forthwithproceeded to entrust him with the materials necessary agreeable to my feelings. And now,’ said Mr Pecksniff, inat Constantinople, it would be at once improving to you andfor its execution; dwelling meanwhile on the magical effect conclusion, ‘to drop, for the present, our professional relationsand advert to private matters, I shall be glad to talk withof a few finishing touches from the hand of a master; which,indeed, as some people said (and these were the old enemies you in my own room, while I pack up my portmanteau.’again!) was unquestionably very surprising, and almost mi-Martin attended him; and they remained in secret conference95

Martin Chuzzlewittogether for an hour or more; leaving Tom Pinch alone. When ‘I was almost afraid,’ said Tom, taking a letter from histhe young man returned, he was very taciturn and dull, in which pocket and wiping his face, for he was hot with bustling aboutstate he remained all day; so that Tom, after trying him once or though it was a cold day, ‘that I shouldn’t have had time totwice with indifferent conversation, felt a delicacy in obtruding write it, and that would have been a thousand pities; postagehimself upon his thoughts, and said no more.from such a distance being a serious consideration, when one’sHe would not have had leisure to say much, had his new not rich. She will be glad to see my hand, poor girl, and tofriend been ever so loquacious; for first of all Mr Pecksniff hear that Pecksniff is as kind as ever. I would have asked Johncalled him down to stand upon the top of his portmanteau Westlock to call and see her, and tell her all about me by wordand represent ancient statues there, until such time as it would of mouth, but I was afraid he might speak against Pecksniffconsent to be locked; and then Miss Charity called him to to her, and make her uneasy. Besides, they are particular peoplecome and cord her trunk; and then Miss Mercy sent for him where she is, and it might have rendered her situation uncomfortableif she had had a visit from a young man liketo come and mend her box; and then he wrote the fullestpossible cards for all the luggage; and then he volunteered to John. Poor Ruth!’carry it all downstairs; and after that to see it safely carried on Tom Pinch seemed a little disposed to be melancholy fora couple of barrows to the old finger-post at the end of the half a minute or so, but he found comfort very soon, andlane; and then to mind it till the coach came up. In short, his pursued his ruminations thus:day’s work would have been a pretty heavy one for a porter, ‘I’m a nice man, I don’t think, as John used to say (Johnbut his thorough good-will made nothing of it; and as he sat was a kind, merry-hearted fellow; I wish he had liked Pecksniffupon the luggage at last, waiting for the Pecksniffs, escorted better), to be feeling low, on account of the distance betweenby the new pupil, to come down the lane, his heart was light us, when I ought to be thinking, instead, of my extraordinarywith the hope of having pleased his benefactor.good luck in having ever got here. I must have been born96

Charles Dickenswith a silver spoon in my mouth, I am sure, to have ever tronage, that Tom felt he had asked a great deal (this had notcome across Pecksniff. And here have I fallen again into my occurred to his mind before), and thanked him earnestly. Theusual good luck with the new pupil! Such an affable, generous,free fellow, as he is, I never saw. Why, we were compan-beyond description at the mention of Mr Pinch’s sister. Oh theMiss Pecksniffs, according to a custom they had, were amusedions directly! and he a relation of Pecksniff’s too, and a clever, fright! The bare idea of a Miss Pinch! Good heavens!dashing youth who might cut his way through the world as if Tom was greatly pleased to see them so merry, for he tookit were a cheese! Here he comes while the words are on my it as a token of their favour, and good-humoured regard.lips’ said Tom; ‘walking down the lane as if the lane belonged Therefore he laughed too and rubbed his hands and wishedto him.’them a pleasant journey and safe return, and was quite brisk.In truth, the new pupil, not at all disconcerted by the honour Even when the coach had rolled away with the olive-branchesof having Miss Mercy Pecksniff on his arm, or by the affectionateadieux of that young lady, approached as Mr Pinch his hand and bowing; so much gratified by the unusually cour-in the boot and the family of doves inside, he stood wavingspoke, followed by Miss Charity and Mr Pecksniff. As the teous demeanour of the young ladies, that he was quite regardless,for the moment, of Martin Chuzzlewit, who stoodcoach appeared at the same moment, Tom lost no time inentreating the gentleman last mentioned, to undertake the leaning thoughtfully against the finger-post, and who afterdelivery of his letter.disposing of his fair charge had hardly lifted his eyes from the‘Oh!’ said Mr Pecksniff, glancing at the superscription. ‘For ground.your sister, Thomas. Yes, oh yes, it shall be delivered, Mr The perfect silence which ensued upon the bustle and departureof the coach, together with the sharp air of the wintryPinch. Make your mind easy upon that score. She shall certainlyhave it, Mr Pinch.’afternoon, roused them both at the same time. They turned,He made the promise with so much condescension and pa-as by mutual consent, and moved off arm-in-arm.97

Martin Chuzzlewit‘How melancholy you are!’ said Tom; ‘what is the matter?’ and fresh to all the delights of being his own master in London,can have much leisure or inclination to think favourably‘Nothing worth speaking of,’ said Martin. ‘Very little morethan was the matter yesterday, and much more, I hope, than of anything or anybody he has left behind him here? I put itwill be the matter to-morrow. I’m out of spirits, Pinch.’ to you, Pinch, is it natural?’‘Well,’ cried Tom, ‘now do you know I am in capital spirits After a short reflection, Mr Pinch replied, in a more subduedtone, that to be sure it was unreasonable to expect anytoday, and scarcely ever felt more disposed to be good company.It was a very kind thing in your predecessor, John, to such thing, and that he had no doubt Martin knew best.write to me, was it not?’‘Of course I know best,’ Martin observed.‘Why, yes,’ said Martin carelessly; ‘I should have thought ‘Yes, I feel that,’ said Mr Pinch mildly. ‘I said so.’ And whenhe would have had enough to do to enjoy himself, without he had made this rejoinder, they fell into a blank silence again,thinking of you, Pinch.’which lasted until they reached home; by which time it was‘Just what I felt to be so very likely,’ Tom rejoined; ‘but no, dark.he keeps his word, and says, “My dear Pinch, I often think of Now, Miss Charity Pecksniff, in consideration of the inconvenienceof carrying them with her in the coach, and theyou,” and all sorts of kind and considerate things of that description.’impossibility of preserving them by artificial means until the‘He must be a devilish good-natured fellow,’ said Martin, family’s return, had set forth, in a couple of plates, the fragmentsof yesterday’s feast. In virtue of which liberal arrange-somewhat peevishly: ‘because he can’t mean that, you know.’‘I don’t suppose he can, eh?’ said Tom, looking wistfully in ment, they had the happiness to find awaiting them in thehis companion’s face. ‘He says so to please me, you think?’ parlour two chaotic heaps of the remains of last night’s pleasure,consisting of certain filmy bits of oranges, some‘Why, is it likely,’ rejoined Martin, with greater earnestness,‘that a young man newly escaped from this kennel of a place, mummied sandwiches, various disrupted masses of the geo-98

Charles Dickenslogical cake, and several entire captain’s biscuits. That choice mouth like saw-dust; the unspeakable relish with which heliquor in which to steep these dainties might not be wanting, swallowed the thin wine by drops, and smacked his lips, asthe remains of the two bottles of currant wine had been poured though it were so rich and generous that to lose an atom of itstogether and corked with a curl-paper; so that every material fruity flavour were a sin; the look with which he paused sometimes,with his glass in his hand, proposing silent toasts towas at hand for making quite a heavy night of it.Martin Chuzzlewit beheld these roystering preparations with himself; and the anxious shade that came upon his contentedinfinite contempt, and stirring the fire into a blaze (to the face when, after wandering round the room, exulting in itsgreat destruction of Mr Pecksniff’s coals), sat moodily down uninvaded snugness, his glance encountered the dull brow ofbefore it, in the most comfortable chair he could find. That his companion; no cynic in the world, though in his hatredhe might the better squeeze himself into the small corner that of its men a very griffin, could have withstood these things inwas left for him, Mr Pinch took up his position on Miss Thomas Pinch.Mercy Pecksniff’s stool, and setting his glass down upon the Some men would have slapped him on the back, and pledgedhearthrug and putting his plate upon his knees, began to enjoyhimself.sharpest vinegar —aye, and liked its flavour too; some wouldhim in a bumper of the currant wine, though it had been theIf Diogenes coming to life again could have rolled himself, have seized him by his honest hand, and thanked him for thetub and all, into Mr Pecksniff’s parlour and could have seen lesson that his simple nature taught them. Some would haveTom Pinch as he sat on Mercy Pecksniff’s stool with his plate laughed with, and others would have laughed at him; of whichand glass before him he could not have faced it out, though last class was Martin Chuzzlewit, who, unable to restrain himself,at last laughed loud and long.in his surliest mood, but must have smiled good-temperedly.The perfect and entire satisfaction of Tom; his surpassing appreciationof the husky sandwiches, which crumbled in his That’s‘That’s right,’ said Tom, nodding approvingly. ‘Cheer up!capital!’99

Martin ChuzzlewitAt which encouragement young Martin laughed again; and have been, but for certain brief reasons which I am going tosaid, as soon as he had breath and gravity enough:tell you, and which have led to my being disinherited.’‘I never saw such a fellow as you are, Pinch.’‘By your father?’ inquired Mr Pinch, with open eyes.‘Didn’t you though?’ said Tom. ‘Well, it’s very likely you ‘By my grandfather. I have had no parents these many years.do find me strange, because I have hardly seen anything of the Scarcely within my remembrance.’world, and you have seen a good deal I dare say?’‘Neither have I,’ said Tom, touching the young man’s hand‘Pretty well for my time of life,’ rejoined Martin, drawing with his own and timidly withdrawing it again. ‘Dear me!’his chair still nearer to the fire, and spreading his feet out on ‘Why, as to that, you know, Pinch,’ pursued the other, stirringthe fire again, and speaking in his rapid, off-hand way;the fender. ‘Deuce take it, I must talk openly to somebody.I’ll talk openly to you, Pinch.’‘it’s all very right and proper to be fond of parents when we‘Do!’ said Tom. ‘I shall take it as being very friendly of have them, and to bear them in remembrance after they’reyou,’dead, if you have ever known anything of them. But as I‘I’m not in your way, am I?’ inquired Martin, glancing down never did know anything about mine personally, you know,at Mr Pinch, who was by this time looking at the fire over his why, I can’t be expected to be very sentimental about ‘em.leg.And I am not; that’s the truth.’‘Not at all!’ cried Tom.Mr Pinch was just then looking thoughtfully at the bars.‘You must know then, to make short of a long story,’ said But on his companion pausing in this place, he started, andMartin, beginning with a kind of effort, as if the revelation said ‘Oh! of course’—and composed himself to listen again.were not agreeable to him; ‘that I have been bred up from ‘In a word,’ said Martin, ‘I have been bred and reared all mychildhood with great expectations, and have always been taught life by this grandfather of whom I have just spoken. Now, heto believe that I should be, one day, very rich. So I should has a great many good points—there is no doubt about that;100

Charles DickensI’ll not disguise the fact from you—but he has two very great obligations to him (if one can ever be said to be under obligationsto one’s own grandfather), and because I have been re-faults, which are the staple of his bad side. In the first place,he has the most confirmed obstinacy of character you ever ally attached to him; but we have had a great many quarrelsmet with in any human creature. In the second, he is most for all that, for I could not accommodate myself to his waysabominably selfish.’very often—not out of the least reference to myself, you understand,but because—’ he stammered here, and was rather‘Is he indeed?’ cried Tom.‘In those two respects,’ returned the other, ‘there never was at a loss.such a man. I have often heard from those who know, that Mr Pinch being about the worst man in the world to helpthey have been, time out of mind, the failings of our family; anybody out of a difficulty of this sort, said nothing.and I believe there’s some truth in it. But I can’t say of my ‘Well! as you understand me,’ resumed Martin, quickly, ‘Iown knowledge. All I have to do, you know, is to be very needn’t hunt for the precise expression I want. Now I comethankful that they haven’t descended to me, and, to be very to the cream of my story, and the occasion of my being here.careful that I don’t contract ‘em.’I am in love, Pinch.’‘To be sure,’ said Mr Pinch. ‘Very proper.’Mr Pinch looked up into his face with increased interest.‘Well, sir,’ resumed Martin, stirring the fire once more, and ‘I say I am in love. I am in love with one of the most beautifulgirls the sun ever shone upon. But she is wholly anddrawing his chair still closer to it, ‘his selfishness makes himexacting, you see; and his obstinacy makes him resolute in his entirely dependent upon the pleasure of my grandfather; andexactions. The consequence is that he has always exacted a if he were to know that she favoured my passion, she wouldgreat deal from me in the way of respect, and submission, lose her home and everything she possesses in the world. Thereand self-denial when his wishes were in question, and so forth. is nothing very selfish in that T love, I think?’I have borne a great deal from him, because I have been under ‘Selfish!’ cried Tom. ‘You have acted nobly. To love her as I101

Martin Chuzzlewitam sure you do, and yet in consideration for her state of dependence,not even to disclose—’jealousy and distrust, suspected me of loving her. He saidaged matters so well but that my grandfather, who is full of‘What are you talking about, Pinch?’ said Martin pettishly: nothing to her, but straightway attacked me in private, and‘don’t make yourself ridiculous, my good fellow! What do charged me with designing to corrupt the fidelity to himselfyou mean by not disclosing?’(there you observe his selfishness), of a young creature whom‘I beg your pardon,’ answered Tom. ‘I thought you meant he had trained and educated to be his only disinterested andthat, or I wouldn’t have said it.’faithful companion, when he should have disposed of me in‘If I didn’t tell her I loved her, where would be the use of marriage to his heart’s content. Upon that, I took fire immediately,and told him that with his good leave I would dis-my being in love?’ said Martin: ‘unless to keep myself in aperpetual state of worry and vexation?’pose of myself in marriage, and would rather not be knocked‘That’s true,’ Tom answered. ‘Well! I can guess what SHE down by him or any other auctioneer to any bidder whomsoever.’said when you told her,’ he added, glancing at Martin’s handsomeface.Mr Pinch opened his eyes wider, and looked at the fire harder‘Why, not exactly, Pinch,’ he rejoined, with a slight frown; than he had done yet.‘because she has some girlish notions about duty and gratitude,and all the rest of it, which are rather hard to fathom; that he began to be the very reverse of complimentary to myself.‘You may be sure,’ said Martin, ‘that this nettled him, andbut in the main you are right. Her heart was mine, I found.’ Interview succeeded interview; words engendered words, as‘Just what I supposed,’ said Tom. ‘Quite natural!’ and, in they always do; and the upshot of it was, that I was to renounceher, or be renounced by him. Now you must bear inhis great satisfaction, he took a long sip out of his wine-glass.‘Although I had conducted myself from the first with the mind, Pinch, that I am not only desperately fond of her (forutmost circumspection,’ pursued Martin, ‘I had not man-though she is poor, her beauty and intellect would reflect great102

Charles Dickenscredit on anybody, I don’t care of what pretensions who might ‘To be sure!’ said Tom.become her husband), but that a chief ingredient in my compositionis a most determined—’chair, with a careless wave of both hands, as if the subject‘Very well,’ rejoined Martin, throwing himself back in his‘Obstinacy,’ suggested Tom in perfect good faith. But the were quite settled, and nothing more could be said aboutsuggestion was not so well received as he had expected; for it—’There is an end of the matter, and here am I!’the young man immediately rejoined, with some irritation, Mr Pinch sat staring at the fire for some minutes with a‘What a fellow you are, Pinch!’puzzled look, such as he might have assumed if some uncommonlydifficult conundrum had been proposed, which he‘I beg your pardon,’ said Tom, ‘I thought you wanted aword.’found it impossible to guess. At length he said:‘I didn’t want that word,’ he rejoined. ‘I told you obstinacy ‘Pecksniff, of course, you had known before?’was no part of my character, did I not? I was going to say, if ‘Only by name. No, I had never seen him, for my grandfatherkept not only himself but me, aloof from all his rela-you had given me leave, that a chief ingredient in my compositionis a most determined firmness.’tions. But our separation took place in a town in the adjoiningcountry. From that place I came to Salisbury, and there I‘Oh!’ cried Tom, screwing up his mouth, and nodding. ‘Yes,yes; I see!’saw Pecksniff’s advertisement, which I answered, having alwayshad some natural taste, I believe, in the matters to which‘And being firm,’ pursued Martin, ‘of course I was not goingto yield to him, or give way by so much as the thousandthpart of an inch.’it to be his, I was doubly bent on coming to him if possible,it referred, and thinking it might suit me. As soon as I found‘No, no,’ said Tom.on account of his being—’‘On the contrary, the more he urged, the more I was determinedto oppose him.’‘so he is. You were quite‘Such an excellent man,’ interposed Tom, rubbing his hands:right.’103

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Why, not so much on that account, if the truth must be It was a very long time before Tom said ‘Certainly;’ so long,spoken,’ returned Martin, ‘as because my grandfather has an that he might have taken a nap in the interval, but he did sayinveterate dislike to him, and after the old man’s arbitrary it at last.treatment of me, I had a natural desire to run as directly ‘Now, there is one odd coincidence connected with thiscounter to all his opinions as I could. Well! As I said before, love-story,’ said Martin, ‘which brings it to an end. You rememberwhat you told me last night as we were coming here,here I am. My engagement with the young lady I have beentelling you about is likely to be a tolerably long one; for neitherher prospects nor mine are very bright; and of course I ‘Surely I do,’ said Tom, rising from his stool, and seatingabout your pretty visitor in the church?’shall not think of marrying until I am well able to do so. It himself in the chair from which the other had lately risen,would never do, you know, for me to be plunging myself that he might see his face. ‘Undoubtedly.’into poverty and shabbiness and love in one room up three ‘That was she.’pair of stairs, and all that sort of thing.’‘I knew what you were going to say,’ cried Tom, looking‘To say nothing of her,’ remarked Tom Pinch, in a low fixedly at him, and speaking very softly. ‘You don’t tell mevoice.so?’‘Exactly so,’ rejoined Martin, rising to warm his back, and ‘That was she,’ repeated the young man. ‘After what I haveleaning against the chimney-piece. ‘To say nothing of her. At heard from Pecksniff, I have no doubt that she came andthe same time, of course it’s not very hard upon her to be went with my grandfather.—Don’t you drink too much ofobliged to yield to the necessity of the case; first, because she that sour wine, or you’ll have a fit of some sort, Pinch, I see.’loves me very much; and secondly, because I have sacrificed a ‘It is not very wholesome, I am afraid,’ said Tom, settinggreat deal on her account, and might have done much better, down the empty glass he had for some time held. ‘So thatyou know.’was she, was it?’104

Charles DickensMartin nodded assent; and adding, with a restless impatience,that if he had been a few days earlier he would have hardly be expected to change its character for us; so we mustbeauty’s brightest glance; ‘what never ran smooth yet, canseen her; and that now she might be, for anything he knew, take it as we find it, and fashion it into the very best shape wehundreds of miles away; threw himself, after a few turns across can, by patience and good-humour. I have no power at all; Ithe room, into a chair, and chafed like a spoilt child. needn’t tell you that; but I have an excellent will; and if ITom Pinch’s heart was very tender, and he could not bear to could ever be of use to you, in any way whatever, how verysee the most indifferent person in distress; still less one who glad I should be!’had awakened an interest in him, and who regarded him (eitherin fact, or as he supposed) with kindness, and in a spirit fellow, upon my word, and speak very kindly. Of course you‘Thank you,’ said Martin, shaking his hand. ‘You’re a goodof lenient construction. Whatever his own thoughts had been know,’ he added, after a moment’s pause, as he drew his chaira few moments before—and to judge from his face they must towards the fire again, ‘I should not hesitate to avail myself ofhave been pretty serious—he dismissed them instantly, and your services if you could help me at all; but mercy on us!’—gave his young friend the best counsel and comfort that occurredto him.looked at Tom as if he took it rather ill that he was not some-Here he rumpled his hair impatiently with his hand, and‘All will be well in time,’ said Tom, ‘I have no doubt; and body else—’you might as well be a toasting-fork or a fryingpan,Pinch, for any help you can render me.’some trial and adversity just now will only serve to make youmore attached to each other in better days. I have always read ‘Except in the inclination,’ said Tom, gently.that the truth is so, and I have a feeling within me, which tells ‘Oh! to be sure. I meant that, of course. If inclination wentme how natural and right it is that it should be. That never for anything, I shouldn’t want help. I tell you what you mayran smooth yet,’ said Tom, with a smile which, despite the do, though, if you will, and at the present moment too.’homeliness of his face, was pleasanter to see than many a proud ‘What is that?’ demanded Tom.105

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Read to me.’beside his bed. Martin had in the meantime made himself as‘I shall be delighted,’ cried Tom, catching up the candle comfortable as circumstances would permit, by constructingwith enthusiasm. ‘Excuse my leaving you in the dark a moment,and I’ll fetch a book directly. What will you like? stool for a pillow, and lying down at full-length upon it.before the fire a temporary sofa of three chairs with Mercy’sShakespeare?’‘Don’t be too loud, please,’ he said to Pinch.‘Aye!’ replied his friend, yawning and stretching himself. ‘No, no,’ said Tom.‘He’ll do. I am tired with the bustle of to-day, and the noveltyof everything about me; and in such a case, there’s no ‘Not at all!’ cried Tom.‘You’re sure you’re not cold’greater luxury in the world, I think, than being read to sleep. ‘I am quite ready, then.’You won’t mind my going to sleep, if I can?’Mr Pinch accordingly, after turning over the leaves of his‘Not at all!’ cried Tom.book with as much care as if they were living and highly cherishedcreatures, made his own selection, and began to read.‘Then begin as soon as you like. You needn’t leave off whenyou see me getting drowsy (unless you feel tired), for it’s pleasantto wake gradually to the sounds again. Did you ever try ‘Poor fellow!’ said Tom, softly, as he stretched out his headBefore he had completed fifty lines his friend was snoring.that?’to peep at him over the backs of the chairs. ‘He is very young‘No, I never tried that,’ said Tomto have so much trouble. How trustful and generous in him‘Well! You can, you know, one of these days when we’re to bestow all this confidence in me. And that was she, was it?’both in the right humour. Don’t mind leaving me in the dark. But suddenly remembering their compact, he took up theLook sharp!’poem at the place where he had left off, and went on reading;Mr Pinch lost no time in moving away; and in a minute or always forgetting to snuff the candle, until its wick lookedtwo returned with one of the precious volumes from the shelf like a mushroom. He gradually became so much interested,106

Charles Dickensthat he quite forgot to replenish the fire; and was only remindedof his neglect by Martin Chuzzlewit starting up after reason to regret the day on which they became acquainted.them, he was certain (but particularly Tom), would ever havethe lapse of an hour or so, and crying with a shiver. Mr Pinch was delighted to hear him say this, and felt so much‘Why, it’s nearly out, I declare! No wonder I dreamed of flattered by his kind assurances of friendship and protection,being frozen. Do call for some coals. What a fellow you are, that he was at a loss how to express the pleasure they affordedPinch!’him. And indeed it may be observed of this friendship, suchas it was, that it had within it more likely materials of endurancethan many a sworn brotherhood that has been rich inCHAPTER SEVENpromise; for so long as the one party found a pleasure in patronizing,and the other in being patronised (which was inIN WHICH MR CHEVY SLYME ASSERTSthe very essence of their respective characters), it was of allTHE INDEPENDENCE OF HIS SPIRIT,possible events among the least probable, that the twin demons,Envy and Pride, would ever arise between them. So inAND THE BLUE DRAGON LOSES A LIMBvery many cases of friendship, or what passes for it, the oldMARTIN BEGAN TO WORK at the grammar-school next morning,with so much vigour and expedition, that Mr Pinch hadaxiom is reversed, and like clings to unlike more than to like.They were both very busy on the afternoon succeeding thenew reason to do homage to the natural endowments of thatfamily’s departure—Martin with the grammar-school, andyoung gentleman, and to acknowledge his infinite superiorityto himself. The new pupil received Tom’s complimentsTom in balancing certain receipts of rents, and deducting MrPecksniff’s commission from the same; in which abstrusevery graciously; and having by this time conceived a real regardfor him, in his own peculiar way, predicted that theyemployment he was much distracted by a habit his new friendhad of whistling aloud while he was drawing—when theywould always be the very best of friends, and that neither of107

Martin Chuzzlewitwere not a little startled by the unexpected obtrusion into ‘Chevy Slyme?’ said Mr Tigg, interrogatively, and kissingthat sanctuary of genius, of a human head which, although a his left hand in token of friendship. ‘You will understand meshaggy and somewhat alarming head in appearance, smiled when I say that I am the accredited agent of Chevy Slyme;affably upon them from the doorway, in a manner that was that I am the ambassador from the court of Chiv? Ha ha!’at once waggish, conciliatory, and expressive of approbation. ‘Heyday!’ asked Martin, starting at the mention of a name‘I am not industrious myself, gents both,’ said the head, he knew. ‘Pray, what does he want with me?’‘but I know how to appreciate that quality in others. I wish I ‘If your name is Pinch’—Mr Tigg began.may turn grey and ugly, if it isn’t in my opinion, next to ‘It is not’ said Martin, checking himself. ‘That is Mr Pinch.’genius, one of the very charmingest qualities of the human ‘If that is Mr Pinch,’ cried Tigg, kissing his hand again, andmind. Upon my soul, I am grateful to my friend Pecksniff beginning to follow his head into the room, ‘he will permitfor helping me to the contemplation of such a delicious pictureas you present. You remind me of Whittington, after-has been most highly commended to me by my friendme to say that I greatly esteem and respect his character, whichwards thrice Lord Mayor of London. I give you my unsullied Pecksniff; and that I deeply appreciate his talent for the organ,notwithstanding that I do not, if I may use the expres-word of honour, that you very strongly remind me of thathistorical character. You are a pair of Whittingtons, gents, sion, grind myself. If that is Mr Pinch, I will venture to expressa hope that I see him well, and that he is suffering nowithout the cat; which is a most agreeable and blessed exceptionto me, for I am not attached to the feline species. My inconvenience from the easterly wind?’name is Tigg; how do you do?’‘Thank you,’ said Tom. ‘I am very well.’Martin looked to Mr Pinch for an explanation; and Tom, ‘That is a comfort,’ Mr Tigg rejoined. ‘Then,’ he added,who had never in his life set eyes on Mr Tigg before, looked shielding his lips with the palm of his hand, and applyingto that gentleman himself.them close to Mr Pinch’s ear, ‘I have come for the letter.’108

Charles Dickens‘For the letter,’ said Tom, aloud. ‘What letter?’goodness to make it again; and on Tom’s repeating it in a still‘The letter,’ whispered Tigg in the same cautious manner as more emphatic and unmistakable manner, checked it off, sentencefor sentence, by nodding his head solemnly at the endbefore, ‘which my friend Pecksniff addressed to Chevy Slyme,Esquire, and left with you.’of each. When it had come to a close for the second time, Mr‘He didn’t leave any letter with me,’ said Tom.Tigg sat himself down in a chair and addressed the young‘Hush!’ cried the other. ‘It’s all the same thing, though not men as follows:so delicately done by my friend Pecksniff as I could have ‘Then I tell you what it is, gents both. There is at this presentwished. The money.’moment in this very place, a perfect constellation of talent and‘The money!’ cried Tom quite scared.genius, who is involved, through what I cannot but designate‘Exactly so,’ said Mr Tigg. With which he rapped Tom twice as the culpable negligence of my friend Pecksniff, in a situationor thrice upon the breast and nodded several times, as though as tremendous, perhaps, as the social intercourse of the nineteenthcentury will readily admit of. There is actually at thishe would say that he saw they understood each other; that itwas unnecessary to mention the circumstance before a third instant, at the Blue Dragon in this village—an ale-house, observe;a common, paltry, low-minded, clodhopping, pipe-smok-person; and that he would take it as a particular favour if Tomwould slip the amount into his hand, as quietly as possible. ing ale-house—an individual, of whom it may be said, in theMr Pinch, however, was so very much astounded by this language of the Poet, that nobody but himself can in any way(to him) inexplicable deportment, that he at once openly declaredthere must be some mistake, and that he had been en-his bill. I repeat it—for his bill. Now,’ said Mr Tigg, ‘we havecome up to him; who is detained there for his bill. Ha! ha! Fortrusted with no commission whatever having any reference heard of Fox’s Book of Martyrs, I believe, and we have heard ofto Mr Tigg or to his friend, either. Mr Tigg received this declarationwith a grave request that Mr Pinch would have the contradiction of no man alive or dead, when I assert thatthe Court of Requests, and the Star Chamber; but I fear themy109

Martin Chuzzlewitfriend Chevy Slyme being held in pawn for a bill, beats any out his instructions. Wouldn’t it be better, sir, if you were toamount of cockfighting with which I am acquainted.’ go to—to wherever you came from—yourself, and remit theMartin and Mr Pinch looked, first at each other, and afterwardsat Mr Tigg, who with his arms folded on his breast ‘How can that be done, when I am detained also?’ said Mrmoney to your friend?’surveyed them, half in despondency and half in bitterness. Tigg; ‘and when moreover, owing to the astounding, and I‘Don’t mistake me, gents both,’ he said, stretching forth his must add, guilty negligence of my friend Pecksniff, I have noright hand. ‘If it had been for anything but a bill, I could have money for coach-hire?’borne it, and could still have looked upon mankind with Tom thought of reminding the gentleman (who, no doubt,some feeling of respect; but when such a man as my friend in his agitation had forgotten it) that there was a post-officeSlyme is detained for a score—a thing in itself essentially mean; in the land; and that possibly if he wrote to some friend ora low performance on a slate, or possibly chalked upon the agent for a remittance it might not be lost upon the road; orback of a door—I do feel that there is a screw of such magnitudeloose somewhere, that the whole framework of society trusting to. But, as his good-nature presently suggested toat all events that the chance, however desperate, was worthis shaken, and the very first principles of things can no longer him certain reasons for abstaining from this hint, he pausedbe trusted. In short, gents both,’ said Mr Tigg with a passionateflourish of his hands and head, ‘when a man like Slyme is ‘Did you say, sir, that you were detained also?’again, and then asked:detained for such a thing as a bill, I reject the superstitions of ‘Come here,’ said Mr Tigg, rising. ‘You have no objectionages, and believe nothing. I don’t even believe that I don’t to my opening this window for a moment?’believe, curse me if I do!’‘Certainly not,’ said Tom.‘I am very sorry, I am sure,’ said Tom after a pause, ‘but Mr ‘Very good,’ said Mr Tigg, lifting the sash. ‘You see a fellowPecksniff said nothing to me about it, and I couldn’t act with-down there in a red neckcloth and no waistcoat?’110

Charles Dickens‘Of course I do,’ cried Tom. ‘That’s Mark Tapley.’‘Oh him!’ rejoined Mark, with an air of careless defiance.‘Mark Tapley is it?’ said the gentleman. ‘Then Mark Tapley ‘Yes, I see him. I could see him a little better, if he’d shavehad not only the great politeness to follow me to this house, himself, and get his hair cut.’but is waiting now, to see me home again. And for that attention,sir,’ added Mr Tigg, stroking his moustache, ‘I can tell himself once upon the breast.Mr Tigg shook his head with a ferocious look, and smoteyou, that Mark Tapley had better in his infancy have been fed ‘It’s no use,’ said Mark. ‘If you knock ever so much in thatto suffocation by Mrs Tapley, than preserved to this time.’ quarter, you’ll get no answer. I know better. There’s nothingMr Pinch was not so dismayed by this terrible threat, but there but padding; and a greasy sort it is.’that he had voice enough to call to Mark to come in, and upstairs;a summons which he so speedily obeyed, that almost as tilities, ‘tell me what I ask you. You’re not out of temper, I‘Nay, Mark,’ urged Mr Pinch, interposing to prevent hos-soon as Tom and Mr Tigg had drawn in their heads and closed hope?’the window again, he, the denounced, appeared before them. ‘Out of temper, sir!’ cried Mark, with a grin; ‘why no, sir.‘Come here, Mark!’ said Mr Pinch. ‘Good gracious me! There’s a little credit—not much—in being jolly, when suchwhat’s the matter between Mrs Lupin and this gentleman?’ fellows as him is a-going about like roaring lions; if there is‘What gentleman, sir?’ said Mark. ‘I don’t see no gentleman any breed of lions, at least, as is all roar and mane. What ishere sir, excepting you and the new gentleman,’ to whom he there between him and Mrs Lupin, sir? Why, there’s a scoremade a rough kind of bow—’and there’s nothing wrong betweenMrs Lupin and either of you, Mr Pinch, I am sure.’ him and his friend off very easy in not charging ‘em doublebetween him and Mrs Lupin. And I think Mrs Lupin lets‘Nonsense, Mark!’ cried Tom. ‘You see Mr—’prices for being a disgrace to the Dragon. That’s my opinion.‘Tigg,’ interposed that gentleman. ‘Wait a bit. I shall crush I wouldn’t have any such Peter the Wild Boy as him in myhim soon. All in good time!’house, sir, not if I was paid race-week prices for it. He’s enough111

Martin Chuzzlewitto turn the very beer in the casks sour with his looks; he is! So be aware of, sir), we should prefer something more satisfactory;”and that’s where the matter stands. And I ask,’ said Mrhe would, if it had judgment enough.’‘You’re not answering my question, you know, Mark,’ observedMr Pinch.lady or gentleman, possessing ordinary strength of mind, to sayTapley, pointing, in conclusion, to Mr Tigg, with his hat, ‘any‘Well, sir,’ said Mark, ‘I don’t know as there’s much to answerfurther than that. Him and his friend goes and stops at ‘Let me inquire,’ said Martin, interposing between this can-whether he’s a disagreeable-looking chap or not!’the Moon and Stars till they’ve run a bill there; and then did speech and the delivery of some blighting anathema bycomes and stops with us and does the same. The running of Mr Tigg, ‘what the amount of this debt may be?’bills is common enough Mr Pinch; it an’t that as we object ‘In point of money, sir, very little,’ answered Mark. ‘Onlyto; it’s the ways of this chap. Nothing’s good enough for just turned of three pounds. But it an’t that; it’s the—’him; all the women is dying for him he thinks, and is overpaidif he winks at ‘em; and all the men was made to be with you.’‘Yes, yes, you told us so before,’ said Martin. ‘Pinch, a wordordered about by him. This not being aggravation enough, ‘What is it?’ asked Tom, retiring with him to a corner ofhe says this morning to me, in his usual captivating way, “We’re the room.going to-night, my man.” “Are you, sir?” says I. “Perhaps you’d ‘Why, simply—I am ashamed to say—that this Mr Slymelike the bill got ready, sir?” “Oh no, my man,” he says; “you is a relation of mine, of whom I never heard anything pleasant;and that I don’t want him here just now, and think heneedn’t mind that. I’ll give Pecksniff orders to see to that.” Inreply to which, the Dragon makes answer, “Thankee, sir, you’re would be cheaply got rid of, perhaps, for three or four pounds.very kind to honour us so far, but as we don’t know any particulargood of you, and you don’t travel with luggage, and Mr Tom shook his head to an extent that left no doubt of hisYou haven’t enough money to pay this bill, I suppose?’Pecksniff an’t at home (which perhaps you mayn’t happen to entire sincerity.112

Charles Dickens‘That’s unfortunate, for I am poor too; and in case you had speeches by a general move towards the stairs, he took possessionat the street door of the lapel of Mr Pinch’s coat, as ahad it, I’d have borrowed it of you. But if we told this landladywe would see her paid, I suppose that would answer the security against further interruption; and entertained thatsame purpose?’gentleman with some highly improving discourse until they‘Oh dear, yes!’ said Tom. ‘She knows me, bless you!’ reached the Dragon, whither they were closely followed by‘Then let us go down at once and tell her so; for the sooner Mark and the new pupil.we are rid of their company the better. As you have conducted The rosy hostess scarcely needed Mr Pinch’s word as a preliminaryto the release of her two visitors, of whom she wasthe conversation with this gentleman hitherto, perhaps you’lltell him what we purpose doing; will you?’glad to be rid on any terms; indeed, their brief detention hadMr Pinch, complying, at once imparted the intelligence to originated mainly with Mr Tapley, who entertained a constitutionaldislike to gentleman out-at-elbows who flourishedMr Tigg, who shook him warmly by the hand in return, assuringhim that his faith in anything and everything was again on false pretences; and had conceived a particular aversion torestored. It was not so much, he said, for the temporary relief Mr Tigg and his friend, as choice specimens of the species.of this assistance that he prized it, as for its vindication of the The business in hand thus easily settled, Mr Pinch and Martinwould have withdrawn immediately, but for the urgenthigh principle that Nature’s Nobs felt with Nature’s Nobs,and that true greatness of soul sympathized with true greatnessof soul, all the world over. It proved to him, he said, that of presenting them to his friend Slyme, which were so veryentreaties of Mr Tigg that they would allow him the honourlike him they admired genius, even when it was coupled with difficult of resistance that, yielding partly to these persuasionsthe alloy occasionally visible in the metal of his friend Slyme; and partly to their own curiosity, they suffered themselves toand on behalf of that friend, he thanked them; as warmly and be ushered into the presence of that distinguished gentleman.heartily as if the cause were his own. Being cut short in these He was brooding over the remains of yesterday’s decanter of113

Martin Chuzzlewitbrandy, and was engaged in the thoughtful occupation of makinga chain of rings on the top of the table with the wet foot of Pecksniff not being at home, I have arranged our trifling piece‘Chiv,’ said Mr Tigg, clapping him on the back, ‘my friendhis drinking-glass. Wretched and forlorn as he looked, Mr Slyme of business with Mr Pinch and friend. Mr Pinch and friend,had once been in his way, the choicest of swaggerers; putting Mr Chevy Slyme! Chiv, Mr Pinch and friend!’forth his pretensions boldly, as a man of infinite taste and most ‘These are agreeable circumstances in which to be introducedto strangers,’ said Chevy Slyme, turning his bloodshotundoubted promise. The stock-in-trade requisite to set up anamateur in this department of business is very slight, and easily eyes towards Tom Pinch. ‘I am the most miserable man ingot together; a trick of the nose and a curl of the lip sufficient the world, I believe!’to compound a tolerable sneer, being ample provision for any Tom begged he wouldn’t mention it; and finding him inexigency. But, in an evil hour, this off-shoot of the Chuzzlewit this condition, retired, after an awkward pause, followed bytrunk, being lazy, and ill qualified for any regular pursuit and Martin. But Mr Tigg so urgently conjured them, by coughshaving dissipated such means as he ever possessed, had formally and signs, to remain in the shadow of the door, that theyestablished himself as a professor of Taste for a livelihood; and stopped there.finding, too late, that something more than his old amount of ‘I swear,’ cried Mr Slyme, giving the table an imbecile blowqualifications was necessary to sustain him in this calling, had with his fist, and then feebly leaning his head upon his hand,quickly fallen to his present level, where he retained nothing of while some drunken drops oozed from his eyes, ‘that I am thehis old self but his boastfulness and his bile, and seemed to wretchedest creature on record. Society is in a conspiracy againsthave no existence separate or apart from his friend Tigg. And me. I’m the most literary man alive. I’m full of scholarship. I’mnow so abject and so pitiful was he—at once so maudlin, insolent,beggarly, and proud—that even his friend and parasite, every subject; yet look at my condition! I’m at this momentfull of genius; I’m full of information; I’m full of novel views onstanding erect beside him, swelled into a Man by contrast. obliged to two strangers for a tavern bill!’114

Charles DickensMr Tigg replenished his friend’s glass, pressed it into his ‘You are the American aloe of the human race, my dearhand, and nodded an intimation to the visitors that they would Chiv,’ said Mr Tigg, ‘which only blooms once in a hundredsee him in a better aspect immediately.years!’‘Obliged to two strangers for a tavern bill, eh!’ repeated Mr ‘Ha, ha, ha!’ laughed Mr Slyme again. ‘Obliged to twoSlyme, after a sulky application to his glass. ‘Very pretty! And strangers for a tavern bill! I obliged to two architect’s apprentices.Fellows who measure earth with iron chains, and buildcrowds of impostors, the while, becoming famous; men whoare no more on a level with me than—Tigg, I take you to houses like bricklayers. Give me the names of those two apprentices.How dare they oblige me!’witness that I am the most persecuted hound on the face ofthe earth.’Mr Tigg was quite lost in admiration of this noble trait inWith a whine, not unlike the cry of the animal he named, his friend’s character; as he made known to Mr Pinch in ain its lowest state of humiliation, he raised his glass to his neat little ballet of action, spontaneously invented for themouth again. He found some encouragement in it; for when purpose.he set it down he laughed scornfully. Upon that Mr Tigg ‘I’ll let ‘em know, and I’ll let all men know,’ cried Chevy Slyme,gesticulated to the visitors once more, and with great expression,implying that now the time was come when they would with commonly. I have an independent spirit. I have a heart that‘that I’m none of the mean, grovelling, tame characters they meetsee Chiv in his greatness.swells in my bosom. I have a soul that rises superior to base‘Ha, ha, ha,’ laughed Mr Slyme. ‘Obliged to two strangers for a considerations.’tavern bill! Yet I think I’ve a rich uncle, Tigg, who could buy up the ‘Oh Chiv, Chiv,’ murmured Mr Tigg, ‘you have a noblyuncles of fifty strangers! Have I, or have I not? I come of a good independent nature, Chiv!’family, I believe! Do I, or do I not? I’m not a man of common ‘You go and do your duty, sir,’ said Mr Slyme, angrily, ‘andcapacity or accomplishments, I think! Am I, or am I not?’ borrow money for travelling expenses; and whoever you bor-115

Martin Chuzzlewitrow it of, let ‘em know that I possess a haughty spirit, and a such a toga-like simplicity of nature? Was there ever a manproud spirit, and have infernally finely-touched chords in my with such a flow of eloquence? Might he not, gents both, Inature, which won’t brook patronage. Do you hear? Tell ‘em I ask, have sat upon a tripod in the ancient times, and prophesiedto a perfectly unlimited extent, if previously suppliedhate ‘em, and that that’s the way I preserve my self-respect; andtell ‘em that no man ever respected himself more than I do!’ with gin-and-water at the public cost?’He might have added that he hated two sorts of men; all Mr Pinch was about to contest this latter position with histhose who did him favours, and all those who were better off usual mildness, when, observing that his companion had alreadygone downstairs, he prepared to follow him.than himself; as in either case their position was an insult to aman of his stupendous merits. But he did not; for with the apt ‘You are not going, Mr Pinch?’ said Tigg.closing words above recited, Mr Slyme; of too haughty a stomachto work, to beg, to borrow, or to steal; yet mean enough to ‘Do you know that I should like one little word in private‘Thank you,’ answered Tom. ‘Yes. Don’t come down.’be worked or borrowed, begged or stolen for, by any catspaw with you Mr Pinch?’ said Tigg, following him. ‘One minutethat would serve his turn; too insolent to lick the hand that fed of your company in the skittle-ground would very much relievemy mind. Might I beseech that favour?’him in his need, yet cur enough to bite and tear it in the dark;with these apt closing words Mr Slyme fell forward with his ‘Oh, certainly,’ replied Tom, ‘if you really wish it.’ So hehead upon the table, and so declined into a sodden sleep. accompanied Mr Tigg to the retreat in question; on arriving‘Was there ever,’ cried Mr Tigg, joining the young men at at which place that gentleman took from his hat what seemedthe door, and shutting it carefully behind him, ‘such an independentspirit as is possessed by that extraordinary creature? chief, and wiped his eyes therewith.to be the fossil remains of an antediluvian pocket-handker-Was there ever such a Roman as our friend Chiv? Was there ‘You have not beheld me this day,’ said Mr Tigg, ‘in aever a man of such a purely classical turn of thought, and of favourable light.’116

Charles Dickens‘Don’t mention that,’ said Tom, ‘I beg.’conclusion; for it is my own. But, Mr Pinch, though I am a‘But you have not,’ cried Tigg. ‘I must persist in that opinion.If you could have seen me, Mr Pinch, at the head of my Mind in following my friend. To you of all men, Mr Pinch,rough and thoughtless man, I can honour Mind. I honourregiment on the coast of Africa, charging in the form of a I have a right to make appeal on Mind’s behalf, when it hashollow square, with the women and children and the regimentalplate-chest in the centre, you would not have known for myself, who have no claim upon you, but for my crushed,not the art to push its fortune in the world. And so, sir—notme for the same man. You would have respected me, sir.’ my sensitive and independent friend, who has—I ask the loanTom had certain ideas of his own upon the subject of glory; of three half-crowns. I ask you for the loan of three halfcrowns,distinctly, and without a blush. I ask it, almost as aand consequently he was not quite so much excited by thispicture as Mr Tigg could have desired.right. And when I add that they will be returned by post, this‘But no matter!’ said that gentleman. ‘The school-boy writinghome to his parents and describing the milk-and-water, tion.’week, I feel that you will blame me for that sordid stipula-said “This is indeed weakness.” I repeat that assertion in referenceto myself at the present moment; and I ask your pardon. purse with a steel clasp, which had probably once belonged toMr Pinch took from his pocket an old-fashioned red-leatherSir, you have seen my friend Slyme?’his deceased grandmother. It held one half-sovereign and no‘No doubt,’ said Mr Pinch.more. All Tom’s worldly wealth until next quarter-day.‘Sir, you have been impressed by my friend Slyme?’ ‘Stay!’ cried Mr Tigg, who had watched this proceeding‘Not very pleasantly, I must say,’ answered Tom, after a keenly. ‘I was just about to say, that for the convenience oflittle hesitation.posting you had better make it gold. Thank you. A general‘I am grieved but not surprised,’ cried Mr Tigg, detaining direction, I suppose, to Mr Pinch at Mr Pecksniff’s—willhim with both hands, ‘to hear that you have come to that that find you?’117

Martin Chuzzlewit‘That’ll find me,’ said Tom. ‘You had better put Esquire to ground, and did not re-enter the house until Mr Tigg and hisMr Pecksniff’s name, if you please. Direct to me, you know, friend had quitted it, and the new pupil and Mark were watchingtheir departure from one of the windows.at Seth Pecksniff’s, Esquire.’‘At Seth Pecksniff’s, Esquire,’ repeated Mr Tigg, taking an ‘I was just a-saying, sir, that if one could live by it,’ observedMark, pointing after their late guests, ‘that would beexact note of it with a stump of pencil. ‘We said this week, Ibelieve?’the sort of service for me. Waiting on such individuals as them‘Yes; or Monday will do,’ observed Tom.would be better than grave-digging, sir.’‘No, no, I beg your pardon. Monday will NOT do,’ said ‘And staying here would be better than either, Mark,’ repliedTom. ‘So take my advice, and continue to swim easilyMr Tigg. ‘If we stipulated for this week, Saturday is the latestday. Did we stipulate for this week?’in smooth water.’‘Since you are so particular about it,’ said Tom, ‘I think we did.’ ‘It’s too late to take it now, sir,’ said Mark. ‘I have broke itMr Tigg added this condition to his memorandum; read to her, sir. I am off to-morrow morning.’the entry over to himself with a severe frown; and that the ‘Off!’ cried Mr Pinch, ‘where to?’transaction might be the more correct and business-like, appendedhis initials to the whole. That done, he assured Mr ‘What to be?’ asked Mr Pinch.‘I shall go up to London, sir.’Pinch that everything was now perfectly regular; and, after ‘Well! I don’t know yet, sir. Nothing turned up that day Isqueezing his hand with great fervour, departed.opened my mind to you, as was at all likely to suit me. AllTom entertained enough suspicion that Martin might possiblyturn this interview into a jest, to render him desirous to credit at all to be got in any of ‘em. I must look for a privatethem trades I thought of was a deal too jolly; there was noavoid the company of that young gentleman for the present. service, I suppose, sir. I might be brought out strong, perhaps,in a serious family, Mr With this view he took a few turns up and down the skittle-Pinch.’118

Charles Dickens‘Perhaps you might come out rather too strong for a seriousfamily’s taste, Mark.’they went, such further particulars of Mark Tapley’s whimsi-home arm-in-arm. Mr Pinch imparting to his new friend, as‘That’s possible, sir. If I could get into a wicked family, I cal restlessness as the reader is already acquainted with.might do myself justice; but the difficulty is to make sure of In the meantime Mark, having a shrewd notion that his mistresswas in very low spirits, and that he could not exactly answerone’s ground, because a young man can’t very well advertisethat he wants a place, and wages an’t so much an object as a for the consequences of any lengthened tete-a-tete in the bar,wicked sitivation; can he, sir?’kept himself obstinately out of her way all the afternoon and‘Why, no,’ said Mr Pinch, ‘I don’t think he can.’evening. In this piece of generalship he was very much assisted by‘An envious family,’ pursued Mark, with a thoughtful face; the great influx of company into the taproom; for the news of‘or a quarrelsome family, or a malicious family, or even a good his intention having gone abroad, there was a perfect throng thereout-and-out mean family, would open a field of action as I all the evening, and much drinking of healths and clinking ofmight do something in. The man as would have suited me of mugs. At length the house was closed for the night; and thereall other men was that old gentleman as was took ill here, for being now no help for it, Mark put the best face he could uponhe really was a trying customer. Howsever, I must wait and the matter, and walked doggedly to the bar-door.see what turns up, sir; and hope for the worst.’‘If I look at her,’ said Mark to himself, ‘I’m done. I feel that‘You are determined to go then?’ said Mr Pinch.I’m a-going fast.’‘My box is gone already, sir, by the waggon, and I’m going ‘You have come at last,’ said Mrs Lupin.to walk on to-morrow morning, and get a lift by the day Aye, Mark said: There he was.coach when it overtakes me. So I wish you good-bye, Mr ‘And you are determined to leave us, Mark?’ cried Mrs Lupin.Pinch—and you too, sir—and all good luck and happiness!’ ‘Why, yes; I am,’ said Mark; keeping his eyes hard upon theThey both returned his greeting laughingly, and walked floor.119

Martin Chuzzlewit‘I thought,’ pursued the landlady, with a most engaging young man he was—‘if I took what I liked most, I shouldhesitation, ‘that you had been—fond—of the Dragon?’ take you. If I only thought what was best for me, I should‘So I am,’ said Mark.take you. If I took what nineteen young fellows in twenty‘Then,’ pursued the hostess—and it really was not an unnaturalinquiry—’why do you desert it?’take you. Yes, I should,’ cried Mr Tapley, shaking his headwould be glad to take, and would take at any price, I shouldBut as he gave no manner of answer to this question; not expressively enough, and looking (in a momentary state ofeven on its being repeated; Mrs Lupin put his money into his forgetfulness) rather hard at the hostess’s ripe lips. ‘And nohand, and asked him—not unkindly, quite the contrary— man wouldn’t wonder if I did!’what he would take?Mrs Lupin said he amazed her. She was astonished how heIt is proverbial that there are certain things which flesh and could say such things. She had never thought it of him.blood cannot bear. Such a question as this, propounded in ‘Why, I never thought if of myself till now!’ said Mark, raisingsuch a manner, at such a time, and by such a person, proved his eyebrows with a look of the merriest possible surprise. ‘I alwaysexpected we should part, and never have no explanation; I(at least, as far as, Mark’s flesh and blood were concerned) tobe one of them. He looked up in spite of himself directly; meant to do it when I come in here just now; but there’s somethingabout you, as makes a man sensible. Then let us have aand having once looked up, there was no looking down again;for of all the tight, plump, buxom, bright-eyed, dimple-faced word or two together; letting it be understood beforehand,’ helandladies that ever shone on earth, there stood before him added this in a grave tone, to prevent the possibility of any mistake,‘that I’m not a-going to make no love, you know.’then, bodily in that bar, the very pink and pineapple.‘Why, I tell you what,’ said Mark, throwing off all his constraintin an instant and seizing the hostess round the waist— means a dark one, on the landlady’s open brow. But it passedThere was for just one second a shade, though not by anyat which she was not at all alarmed, for she knew what a good off instantly, in a laugh that came from her very heart.120

Charles Dickens‘Oh, very good!’ she said; ‘if there is to be no love-making, attend. What would be the likely consequence of us two beingmarried? If I can’t be content and comfortable in this hereyou had better take your arm away.’‘Lord, why should I!’ cried Mark. ‘It’s quite innocent.’ lively Dragon now, is it to be looked for as I should be then?‘Of course it’s innocent,’ returned the hostess, ‘or I shouldn’t By no means. Very good. Then you, even with your goodallow it.’humour, would be always on the fret and worrit, always uncomfortablein your own mind, always a-thinking as you was‘Very well!’ said Mark. ‘Then let it be.’There was so much reason in this that the landlady laughed getting too old for my taste, always a-picturing me to yourselfas being chained up to the Dragon door, and wanting toagain, suffered it to remain, and bade him say what he had tosay, and be quick about it. But he was an impudent fellow, break away. I don’t know that it would be so,’ said Mark,she added.‘but I don’t know that it mightn’t be. I am a roving sort of‘Ha ha! I almost think I am!’ cried Mark, ‘though I never chap, I know. I’m fond of change. I’m always a-thinking thatthought so before. Why, I can say anything to-night!’ with my good health and spirits it would be more creditable‘Say what you’re going to say if you please, and be quick,’ in me to be jolly where there’s things a-going on to make onereturned the landlady, ‘for I want to get to bed.’dismal. It may be a mistake of mine you see, but nothing‘Why, then, my dear good soul,’ said Mark, ‘and a kinder short of trying how it acts will set it right. Then an’t it bestwoman than you are never drawed breath—let me see the that I should go; particular when your free way has helped meman as says she did!—what would be the likely consequence out to say all this, and we can part as good friends as we haveof us two being—’ever been since first I entered this here noble Dragon, which,’‘Oh nonsense!’ cried Mrs Lupin. ‘Don’t talk about that any said Mr Tapley in conclusion, ‘has my good word and mymore.’good wish to the day of my death!’‘No, no, but it an’t nonsense,’ said Mark; ‘and I wish you’d The hostess sat quite silent for a little time, but she very121

Martin Chuzzlewitsoon put both her hands in Mark’s and shook them heartily. busy people and the idlers; there they were, all calling out‘For you are a good man,’ she said; looking into his face ‘Good-b’ye, Mark,’ after their own manner, and all sorry hewith a smile, which was rather serious for her. ‘And I do believehave been a better friend to me to-night than ever I have tress was peeping from her chamber-window, but he couldn’twas going. Somehow he had a kind of sense that his old mis-had in all my life.’make up his mind to look back.‘Oh! as to that, you know,’ said Mark, ‘that’s nonsense. ‘Good-b’ye one, good-b’ye all!’ cried Mark, waving his hatBut love my heart alive!’ he added, looking at her in a sort of on the top of his walking-stick, as he strode at a quick pacerapture, ‘if you ARE that way disposed, what a lot of suitable up the little street. ‘Hearty chaps them wheelwrights—hurrah!Here’s the butcher’s dog a-coming out of the garden—husbands there is as you may drive distracted!’She laughed again at this compliment; and, once more shakinghim by both hands, and bidding him, if he should ever b’ye, sir! And the terrier-bitch from over the way—hie, then,down, old fellow! And Mr Pinch a-going to his organ—good-want a friend, to remember her, turned gayly from the little lass! And children enough to hand down human natur to thebar and up the Dragon staircase.latest posterity—good-b’ye, boys and girls! There’s some credit‘Humming a tune as she goes,’ said Mark, listening, ‘in case in it now. I’m a-coming out strong at last. These are the circumstancesthat would try a ordinary mind; but I’m uncom-I should think she’s at all put out, and should be made downhearted.Come, here’s some credit in being jolly, at last!’ mon jolly. Not quite as jolly as I could wish to be, but veryWith that piece of comfort, very ruefully uttered, he went, near. Good-b’ye! good-b’ye!’in anything but a jolly manner, to bed.He rose early next morning, and was a-foot soon after sunrise.But it was of no use; the whole place was up to see MarkTapley off; the boys, the dogs, the children, the old men, the122

CHAPTER EIGHTACCOMPANIES MR PECKSNIFF AND HISCHARMING DAUGHTERS TO THE CITYOF LONDON; AND RELATES WHAT FELLOUT UPON THEIR WAY THITHERWHEN MR PECKSNIFF and the two young ladies got into theheavy coach at the end of the lane, they found it empty, whichwas a great comfort; particularly as the outside was quite fulland the passengers looked very frosty. For as Mr Pecksniffjustly observed —when he and his daughters had burrowedtheir feet deep in the straw, wrapped themselves to the chin,and pulled up both windows—it is always satisfactory to feel,in keen weather, that many other people are not as warm asyou are. And this, he said, was quite natural, and a very beautifularrangement; not confined to coaches, but extending itselfinto many social ramifications. ‘For’ (he observed), ‘ifevery one were warm and well-fed, we should lose the satisfactionof admiring the fortitude with which certain conditionsof men bear cold and hunger. And if we were no betterCharles Dickens123off than anybody else, what would become of our sense ofgratitude; which,’ said Mr Pecksniff with tears in his eyes, ashe shook his fist at a beggar who wanted to get up behind, ‘isone of the holiest feelings of our common nature.’His children heard with becoming reverence these moralprecepts from the lips of their father, and signified their acquiescencein the same, by smiles. That he might the betterfeed and cherish that sacred flame of gratitude in his breast,Mr Pecksniff remarked that he would trouble his eldest daughter,even in this early stage of their journey, for the brandybottle.And from the narrow neck of that stone vessel he imbibeda copious refreshment.‘What are we?’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘but coaches? Some of usare slow coaches’—‘Goodness, Pa!’ cried Charity.‘Some of us, I say,’ resumed her parent with increased emphasis,‘are slow coaches; some of us are fast coaches. Ourpassions are the horses; and rampant animals too—!’‘Really, Pa,’ cried both the daughters at once. ‘How veryunpleasant.’‘And rampant animals too’ repeated Mr Pecksniff with so

Martin Chuzzlewitmuch determination, that he may be said to have exhibited, ‘All right, sir,’ replied the guard.at the moment a sort of moral rampancy himself;’—and Virtueis the drag. We start from The Mother’s Arms, and we ‘Three passengers,’ returned the guard.‘Is there anybody inside now?’ inquired the voice.run to The Dust Shovel.’‘Then I ask the three passengers to witness this bargain, ifWhen he had said this, Mr Pecksniff, being exhausted, took they will be so good,’ said the voice. ‘My boy, I think we maysome further refreshment. When he had done that, he corked safely get in.’the bottle tight, with the air of a man who had effectually In pursuance of which opinion, two people took their seatscorked the subject also; and went to sleep for three stages. in the vehicle, which was solemnly licensed by Act of Parliamentto carry any six persons who could be got in at the door.The tendency of mankind when it falls asleep in coaches, isto wake up cross; to find its legs in its way; and its corns an ‘That was lucky!’ whispered the old man, when they movedaggravation. Mr Pecksniff not being exempt from the commonlot of humanity found himself, at the end of his nap, so he, he! We couldn’t have gone outside. I should have died of theon again. ‘And a great stroke of policy in you to observe it. He,decidedly the victim of these infirmities, that he had an irresistibleinclination to visit them upon his daughters; which Whether it occurred to the dutiful son that he had in somerheumatism!’he had already begun to do in the shape of divers random degree over-reached himself by contributing to the prolongationof his father’s days; or whether the cold had effected hiskicks, and other unexpected motions of his shoes, when thecoach stopped, and after a short delay the door was opened. temper; is doubtful. But he gave his father such a nudge in‘Now mind,’ said a thin sharp voice in the dark. ‘I and my reply, that that good old gentleman was taken with a coughson go inside, because the roof is full, but you agree only to which lasted for full five minutes without intermission, andcharge us outside prices. It’s quite understood that we won’t goaded Mr Pecksniff to that pitch of irritation, that he said atpay more. Is it?’last—and very suddenly:124

Charles Dickens‘There is no room! There is really no room in this coach for difference between you and the rest was—shall I tell you theany gentleman with a cold in his head!’difference between you and the rest now, Pecksniff?’‘Mine,’ said the old man, after a moment’s pause, ‘is upon ‘If you please, my good sir; if you please.’my chest, Pecksniff.’‘Why, the annoying quality in you, is,’ said the old man,The voice and manner, together, now that he spoke out; ‘that you never have a confederate or partner in your juggling;the composure of the speaker; the presence of his son; and his you would deceive everybody, even those who practise theknowledge of Mr Pecksniff; afforded a clue to his identity same art; and have a way with you, as if you—he, he, he!—aswhich it was impossible to mistake.if you really believed yourself. I’d lay a handsome wager now,’‘Hem! I thought,’ said Mr Pecksniff, returning to his usual said the old man, ‘if I laid wagers, which I don’t and nevermildness, ‘that I addressed a stranger. I find that I address a did, that you keep up appearances by a tacit understanding,relative, Mr Anthony Chuzzlewit and his son Mr Jonas—for even before your own daughters here. Now I, when I have athey, my dear children, are our travelling companions—will business scheme in hand, tell Jonas what it is, and we discussexcuse me for an apparently harsh remark. It is not my desire it openly. You’re not offended, Pecksniff?’to wound the feelings of any person with whom I am connectedin family bonds. I may be a Hypocrite,’ said Mr received the highest compliments that language could convey.‘Offended, my good sir!’ cried that gentleman, as if he hadPecksniff, cuttingly; ‘but I am not a Brute.’‘Are you travelling to London, Mr Pecksniff?’ asked the‘Pooh, pooh!’ said the old man. ‘What signifies that word, son.Pecksniff? Hypocrite! why, we are all hypocrites. We were all ‘Yes, Mr Jonas, we are travelling to London. We shall havehypocrites t’other day. I am sure I felt that to be agreed upon the pleasure of your company all the way, I trust?’among us, or I shouldn’t have called you one. We should not ‘Oh! ecod, you had better ask father that,’ said Jonas. ‘I amhave been there at all, if we had not been hypocrites. The only not a-going to commit myself.’125

Martin ChuzzlewitMr Pecksniff was, as a matter of course, greatly entertained the beginning, his training may be said to have been unexceptionable.One of these flaws was, that having been long taughtby this retort. His mirth having subsided, Mr Jonas gave himto understand that himself and parent were in fact travelling by his father to over-reach everybody, he had imperceptiblyto their home in the metropolis; and that, since the memorableday of the great family gathering, they had been tarrying self. The other, that from his early habits of considering ev-acquired a love of over-reaching that venerable monitor him-in that part of the country, watching the sale of certain eligibleinvestments, which they had had in their copartnership look, with impatience, on his parent as a certain amount oferything as a question of property, he had gradually come toeye when they came down; for it was their custom, Mr Jonas personal estate, which had no right whatever to be going atsaid, whenever such a thing was practicable, to kill two birds large, but ought to be secured in that particular description ofwith one stone, and never to throw away sprats, but as bait iron safe which is commonly called a coffin, and banked infor whales. When he had communicated to Mr Pecksniff these the grave.pithy scraps of intelligence, he said, ‘That if it was all the ‘Well, cousin!’ said Mr Jonas—’Because we are cousins, yousame to him, he would turn him over to father, and have a know, a few times removed—so you’re going to London?’chat with the gals;’ and in furtherance of this polite scheme, Miss Mercy replied in the affirmative, pinching her sister’she vacated his seat adjoining that gentleman, and established arm at the same time, and giggling excessively.himself in the opposite corner, next to the fair Miss Mercy. ‘Lots of beaux in London, cousin!’ said Mr Jonas, slightlyThe education of Mr Jonas had been conducted from his advancing his elbow.cradle on the strictest principles of the main chance. The very ‘Indeed, sir!’ cried the young lady. ‘They won’t hurt us, sir,first word he learnt to spell was ‘gain,’ and the second (when I dare say.’ And having given him this answer with great demurenessshe was so overcome by her own humour, that shehe got into two syllables), ‘money.’ But for two results, whichwere not clearly foreseen perhaps by his watchful parent in was fain to stifle her merriment in her sister’s shawl.126

Charles Dickens‘Merry,’ cried that more prudent damsel, ‘really I am gentleman. ‘The foot next you’s the gouty one.’ashamed of you. How can you go on so? You wild thing!’ At Mr Pecksniff hesitating to perform this friendly office, Mrwhich Miss Merry only laughed the more, of course. Jonas did it himself; at the same time crying:‘I saw a wildness in her eye, t’other day,’ said Mr Jonas, ‘Come, wake up, father, or you’ll be having the nightmare,addressing Charity. ‘But you’re the one to sit solemn! I say— and screeching out, I know.—Do you ever have the nightmare,cousin?’ he asked his neighbour, with characteristic gal-You were regularly prim, cousin!’“Oh! The old-fashioned fright!’ cried Merry, in a whisper. lantry, as he dropped his voice again.‘Cherry my dear, upon my word you must sit next him. I ‘Sometimes,’ answered Charity. ‘Not often.’shall die outright if he talks to me any more; I shall, positively!’To prevent which fatal consequence, the buoyant crea-ever have the nightmare?’‘The other one,’ said Mr Jonas, after a pause. ‘Does SHEture skipped out of her seat as she spoke, and squeezed her ‘I don’t know,’ replied Charity. ‘You had better ask her.’sister into the place from which she had risen.‘She laughs so,’ said Jonas; ‘there’s no talking to her. Only‘Don’t mind crowding me,’ cried Mr Jonas. ‘I like to be hark how she’s a-going on now! You’re the sensible one,crowded by gals. Come a little closer, cousin.’cousin!’‘No, thank you, sir,’ said Charity.‘Tut, tut!’ cried Charity.‘There’s that other one a-laughing again,’ said Mr Jonas; ‘Oh! But you are! You know you are!’‘she’s a-laughing at my father, I shouldn’t wonder. If he puts ‘Mercy is a little giddy,’ said Miss Charity. But she’ll soberon that old flannel nightcap of his, I don’t know what she’ll down in time.’do! Is that my father a-snoring, Pecksniff?’‘It’ll be a very long time, then, if she does at all,’ rejoined‘Yes, Mr Jonas.’her cousin. ‘Take a little more room.’‘Tread upon his foot, will you be so good?’ said the young ‘I am afraid of crowding you,’ said Charity. But she took it127

Martin Chuzzlewitnotwithstanding; and after one or two remarks on the extremeheaviness of the coach, and the number of places it der than one shillingsworth; there being a chance of their getter,which the latter gentleman considered a more politic or-stopped at, they fell into a silence which remained unbroken ting more spirit out of the innkeeper under this arrangementby any member of the party until supper-time.than if it were all in one glass. Having swallowed his share ofAlthough Mr Jonas conducted Charity to the hotel and sat the enlivening fluid, Mr Pecksniff, under pretence of goinghimself beside her at the board, it was pretty clear that he had to see if the coach were ready, went secretly to the bar, andan eye to ‘the other one’ also, for he often glanced across at had his own little bottle filled, in order that he might refreshMercy, and seemed to draw comparisons between the personalappearance of the two, which were not unfavourable to These arrangements concluded, and the coach being ready,himself at leisure in the dark coach without being observed.the superior plumpness of the younger sister. He allowed himselfno great leisure for this kind of observation, however, he composed himself for a nap, Mr Pecksniff delivered a kindthey got into their old places and jogged on again. But beforebeing busily engaged with the supper, which, as he whispered of grace after meat, in these words:in his fair companion’s ear, was a contract business, and thereforethe more she ate, the better the bargain was. His father tomical friends, is one of the most wonderful works of na-‘The process of digestion, as I have been informed by ana-and Mr Pecksniff, probably acting on the same wise principle,demolished everything that came within their reach, great satisfaction to me to know, when regaling on my humbleture. I do not know how it may be with others, but it is aand by that means acquired a greasy expression of countenance,indicating contentment, if not repletion, which it was ery with which we have any acquaintance. I really feel at suchfare, that I am putting in motion the most beautiful machin-very pleasant to contemplate.times as if I was doing a public service. When I have woundWhen they could eat no more, Mr Pecksniff and Mr Jonas myself up, if I may employ such a term,’ said Mr Pecksniffsubscribed for two sixpenny-worths of hot brandy-and-wa-with exquisite tenderness, ‘and know that I am Going, I feel128

Charles Dickensthat in the lesson afforded by the works within me, I am a bustle, that fully bore out Mr Pecksniff’s words about itsBenefactor to my Kind!’being morning, though for any signs of day yet appearing inAs nothing could be added to this, nothing was said; and the sky it might have been midnight. There was a dense fogMr Pecksniff, exulting, it may be presumed, in his moral utility, too; as if it were a city in the clouds, which they had beenwent to sleep again.travelling to all night up a magic beanstalk; and there was aThe rest of the night wore away in the usual manner. Mr thick crust upon the pavement like oilcake; which, one of thePecksniff and Old Anthony kept tumbling against each other outsides (mad, no doubt) said to another (his keeper, ofand waking up much terrified, or crushed their heads in oppositecorners of the coach and strangely tattooed the surface Taking a confused leave of Anthony and his son, and leav-course), was Snow.of their faces—Heaven knows how —in their sleep. The coach ing the luggage of himself and daughters at the office to bestopped and went on, and went on and stopped, times out of called for afterwards, Mr Pecksniff, with one of the youngnumber. Passengers got up and passengers got down, and fresh ladies under each arm, dived across the street, and then acrosshorses came and went and came again, with scarcely any intervalbetween each team as it seemed to those who were doz-strangest alleys and under the blindest archways, in a kind ofother streets, and so up the queerest courts, and down theing, and with a gap of a whole night between every one as it frenzy; now skipping over a kennel, now running for his lifeseemed to those who were broad awake. At length they began from a coach and horses; now thinking he had lost his way,to jolt and rumble over horribly uneven stones, and Mr now thinking he had found it; now in a state of the highestPecksniff looking out of window said it was to-morrow confidence, now despondent to the last degree, but always inmorning, and they were there.a great perspiration and flurry; until at length they stopped inVery soon afterwards the coach stopped at the office in the a kind of paved yard near the Monument. That is to say, Mrcity; and the street in which it was situated was already in a Pecksniff told them so; for as to anything they could see of129

Martin Chuzzlewitthe Monument, or anything else but the buildings close at shove yourself through the grating as usual. What do youhand, they might as well have been playing blindman’s buff want?’at Salisbury.Considering his years, which were tender, the youth may beMr Pecksniff looked about him for a moment, and then said to have preferred this question sternly, and in somethingknocked at the door of a very dingy edifice, even among the of a defiant manner. But Mr Pecksniff, without taking umbrageat his bearing put a card in his hand, and bade him takechoice collection of dingy edifices at hand; on the front ofwhich was a little oval board like a tea-tray, with this inscription—’CommercialBoarding-House: M. Todgers.’ where there was a fire.that upstairs, and show them in the meanwhile into a roomIt seemed that M. Todgers was not up yet, for Mr Pecksniff ‘Or if there’s one in the eating parlour,’ said Mr Pecksniff,knocked twice and rang thrice, without making any impressionon anything but a dog over the way. At last a chain and ing for any further introduction, into a room on the ground-‘I can find it myself.’ So he led his daughters, without wait-some bolts were withdrawn with a rusty noise, as if the weather floor, where a table-cloth (rather a tight and scanty fit in referenceto the table it covered) was already spread for break-had made the very fastenings hoarse, and a small boy with alarge red head, and no nose to speak of, and a very dirty fast; displaying a mighty dish of pink boiled beef; an instanceWellington boot on his left arm, appeared; who (being surprised)rubbed the nose just mentioned with the back of a ers as a slack-baked, crummy quartern; a liberal provision ofof that particular style of loaf which is known to housekeep-shoe-brush, and said nothing.cups and saucers; and the usual appendages.‘Still a-bed my man?’ asked Mr Pecksniff.Inside the fender were some half-dozen pairs of shoes and‘Still a-bed!’ replied the boy. ‘I wish they wos still a-bed. boots, of various sizes, just cleaned and turned with the solesThey’re very noisy a-bed; all calling for their boots at once. I upwards to dry; and a pair of short black gaiters, on one ofthought you was the Paper, and wondered why you didn’t which was chalked —in sport, it would appear, by some gentle-130

Charles Dickensman who had slipped down for the purpose, pending his toilet,and gone up again—’Jinkins’s Particular,’ while the other people from running into him accidentally. It had not beentinue his heavy tick for no other reason than to warn heedlessexhibited a sketch in profile, claiming to be the portrait of papered or painted, hadn’t Todgers’s, within the memory ofJinkins himself.man. It was very black, begrimed, and mouldy. And, at theM. Todgers’s Commercial Boarding-House was a house of top of the staircase, was an old, disjointed, rickety, ill-favouredthat sort which is likely to be dark at any time; but that morning skylight, patched and mended in all kinds of ways, whichit was especially dark. There was an odd smell in the passage, looked distrustfully down at everything that passed below,as if the concentrated essence of all the dinners that had been and covered Todgers’s up as if it were a sort of human cucumber-frame,and only people of a peculiar growth were rearedcooked in the kitchen since the house was built, lingered atthe top of the kitchen stairs to that hour, and like the Black there.Friar in Don Juan, ‘wouldn’t be driven away.’ In particular, Mr Pecksniff and his fair daughters had not stood warmingthere was a sensation of cabbage; as if all the greens that had themselves at the fire ten minutes, when the sound of feetever been boiled there, were evergreens, and flourished in was heard upon the stairs, and the presiding deity of the establishmentcame hurrying in.immortal strength. The parlour was wainscoted, and communicatedto strangers a magnetic and instinctive consciousnessof rats and mice. The staircase was very gloomy and very with a row of curls in front of her head, shaped like littleM. Todgers was a lady, rather a bony and hard-featured lady,broad, with balustrades so thick and heavy that they would barrels of beer; and on the top of it something made of net—have served for a bridge. In a sombre corner on the first landing,stood a gruff old giant of a clock, with a preposterous cobweb. She had a little basket on her arm, and in it a bunchyou couldn’t call it a cap exactly—which looked like a blackcoronet of three brass balls on his head; whom few had ever of keys that jingled as she came. In her other hand she bore aseen—none ever looked in the face—and who seemed to con-flaming tallow candle, which, after surveying Mr Pecksniff131

Martin Chuzzlewitfor one instant by its light, she put down upon the table, to ered by her feelings or the inclemency of the morning, jerkedthe end that she might receive him with the greater cordiality. a little pocket handkerchief out of the little basket, and appliedthe same to her face.‘Mr Pecksniff!’ cried Mrs Todgers. ‘Welcome to London!Who would have thought of such a visit as this, after so— ‘Now, my good madam,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘I know thedear, dear!—so many years! How do you do, Mr Pecksniff?’ rules of your establishment, and that you only receive gentlemenboarders. But it occurred to me, when I left home, that‘As well as ever; and as glad to see you, as ever;’ Mr Pecksniffmade response. ‘Why, you are younger than you used to be!’ perhaps you would give my daughters house room, and make‘You are, I am sure!’ said Mrs Todgers. ‘You’re not a bit an exception in their favour.’changed.’‘Perhaps?’ cried Mrs Todgers ecstatically. ‘Perhaps?’‘What do you say to this?’ cried Mr Pecksniff, stretching ‘I may say then, that I was sure you would,’ said Mrout his hand towards the young ladies. ‘Does this make me Pecksniff. ‘I know that you have a little room of your own,no older?’and that they can be comfortable there, without appearing at‘Not your daughters!’ exclaimed the lady, raising her hands the general table.’and clasping them. ‘Oh, no, Mr Pecksniff! Your second, and ‘Dear girls!’ said Mrs Todgers. ‘I must take that liberty onceher bridesmaid!’more.’Mr Pecksniff smiled complacently; shook his head; and said, Mrs Todgers meant by this that she must embrace them‘My daughters, Mrs Todgers. Merely my daughters.’ once more, which she accordingly did with great ardour. But‘Ah!’ sighed the good lady, ‘I must believe you, for now I the truth was that the house being full with the exception oflook at ‘em I think I should have known ‘em anywhere. My one bed, which would now be occupied by Mr Pecksniff, shedear Miss Pecksniffs, how happy your Pa has made me!’ wanted time for consideration; and so much time too (for itShe hugged them both; and being by this time overpow-was a knotty point how to dispose of them), that even when132

Charles Dickensthis second embrace was over, she stood for some moments fallen against by a strong person. It commanded from a similarpoint of sight another angle of the wall, and another sidegazing at the sisters, with affection beaming in one eye, andcalculation shining out of the other.of the cistern. ‘Not the damp side,’ said Mrs Todgers. ‘That‘I think I know how to arrange it,’ said Mrs Todgers, at is Mr Jinkins’s.’length. ‘A sofa bedstead in the little third room which opens In the first of these sanctuaries a fire was speedily kindledfrom my own parlour.—Oh, you dear girls!’by the youthful porter, who, whistling at his work in theThereupon she embraced them once more, observing that absence of Mrs Todgers (not to mention his sketching figuresshe could not decide which was most like their poor mother on his corduroys with burnt firewood), and being afterwards(which was highly probable, seeing that she had never beheld taken by that lady in the fact, was dismissed with a box on histhat lady), but that she rather thought the youngest was; and ears. Having prepared breakfast for the young ladies with herthen she said that as the gentlemen would be down directly, own hands, she withdrew to preside in the other room; whereand the ladies were fatigued with travelling, would they step the joke at Mr Jinkins’s expense seemed to be proceeding ratherinto her room at once?noisily.It was on the same floor; being, in fact, the back parlour; ‘I won’t ask you yet, my dears,’ said Mr Pecksniff, lookingand had, as Mrs Todgers said, the great advantage (in London)of not being overlooked; as they would see when the ‘We haven’t seen much of it, Pa!’ cried Merry.in at the door, ‘how you like London. Shall I?’fog cleared off. Nor was this a vainglorious boast, for it commandedat a perspective of two feet, a brown wall with a ‘Indeed,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘that’s true. We have our plea-‘Nothing, I hope,’ said Cherry. (Both very miserably.)black cistern on the top. The sleeping apartment designed for sure, and our business too, before us. All in good time. All inthe young ladies was approached from this chamber by a good time!’mightily convenient little door, which would only open when Whether Mr Pecksniff’s business in London was as strictly133

Martin Chuzzlewitprofessional as he had given his new pupil to understand, we be reasonably called a street. A kind of resigned distractionshall see, to adopt that worthy man’s phraseology, ‘all in good came over the stranger as he trod those devious mazes, and,time.’giving himself up for lost, went in and out and round aboutand quietly turned back again when he came to a dead wall orwas stopped by an iron railing, and felt that the means ofCHAPTER NINEescape might possibly present themselves in their own goodtime, but that to anticipate them was hopeless. Instances wereTOWN AND TODGER’Sknown of people who, being asked to dine at Todgers’s, hadtravelled round and round for a weary time, with its verySURELY THERE NEVER was, in any other borough, city, or hamletin the world, such a singular sort of a place as Todgers’s.chimney-pots in view; and finding it, at last, impossible ofattainment, had gone home again with a gentle melancholyAnd surely London, to judge from that part of it whichon their spirits, tranquil and uncomplaining. Nobody hadhemmed Todgers’s round and hustled it, and crushed it, andever found Todgers’s on a verbal direction, though given withinstuck its brick-and-mortar elbows into it, and kept the aira few minutes’ walk of it. Cautious emigrants from Scotlandfrom it, and stood perpetually between it and the light, wasor the North of England had been known to reach it safely,worthy of Todgers’s, and qualified to be on terms of closeby impressing a charity-boy, town-bred, and bringing himrelationship and alliance with hundreds and thousands of thealong with them; or by clinging tenaciously to the postman;odd family to which Todgers’s belonged.but these were rare exceptions, and only went to prove theYou couldn’t walk about Todgers’s neighbourhood, as yourule that Todgers’s was in a labyrinth, whereof the mysterycould in any other neighbourhood. You groped your way forwas known but to a chosen few.an hour through lanes and byways, and court-yards, and passages;and you never once emerged upon anything that mightSeveral fruit-brokers had their marts near Todgers’s; and one134

Charles Dickensof the first impressions wrought upon the stranger’s senses old watchmen guarded the bodies of the dead at night, yearwas of oranges —of damaged oranges—with blue and green after year, until at last they joined that solemn brotherhood;bruises on them, festering in boxes, or mouldering away in and, saving that they slept below the ground a sounder sleepcellars. All day long, a stream of porters from the wharves than even they had ever known above it, and were shut up inbeside the river, each bearing on his back a bursting chest of another kind of box, their condition can hardly be said tooranges, poured slowly through the narrow passages; while have undergone any material change when they, in turn, wereunderneath the archway by the public-house, the knots of watched themselves.those who rested and regaled within, were piled from morninguntil night. Strange solitary pumps were found near here and there, an ancient doorway of carved oak, from which,Among the narrow thoroughfares at hand, there lingered,Todgers’s hiding themselves for the most part in blind alleys, of old, the sounds of revelry and feasting often came; butand keeping company with fire-ladders. There were churches now these mansions, only used for storehouses, were darkalso by dozens, with many a ghostly little churchyard, all overgrownwith such straggling vegetation as springs up sponta-like—such heavy merchandise as stifles sound and stops theand dull, and, being filled with wool, and cotton, and theneously from damp, and graves, and rubbish. In some of these throat of echo—had an air of palpable deadness about themdingy resting-places which bore much the same analogy to which, added to their silence and desertion, made them verygreen churchyards, as the pots of earth for mignonette and grim. In like manner, there were gloomy courtyards in thesewall-flower in the windows overlooking them did to rustic parts, into which few but belated wayfarers ever strayed, andgardens, there were trees; tall trees; still putting forth their where vast bags and packs of goods, upward or downwardleaves in each succeeding year, with such a languishing remembranceof their kind (so one might fancy, looking on their lofty cranes There were more trucks near Todgers’s than youbound, were for ever dangling between heaven and earth fromsickly boughs) as birds in cages have of theirs. Here, paralysed would suppose whole city could ever need; not active trucks,135

Martin Chuzzlewitbut a vagabond race, for ever lounging in the narrow lanes were still marvellously long-winded. These gentry were muchbefore their masters’ doors and stopping up the pass; so that opposed to steam and all new-fangled ways, and held ballooningto be sinful, and deplored the degeneracy of the times;when a stray hackney-coach or lumbering waggon came thatway, they were the cause of such an uproar as enlivened the which that particular member of each little club who keptwhole neighbourhood, and made the bells in the next the keys of the nearest church, professionally, always attributedto the prevalence of dissent and irreligion; though thechurchtower vibrate again. In the throats and maws of darkno-thoroughfares near Todgers’s, individual wine-merchants major part of the company inclined to the belief that virtueand wholesale dealers in grocery-ware had perfect little towns went out with hair-powder, and that Old England’s greatnessof their own; and, deep among the foundations of these buildings,the ground was undermined and burrowed out into As to Todgers’s itself—speaking of it only as a house in thathad decayed amain with barbers.stables, where cart-horses, troubled by rats, might be heard neighbourhood, and making no reference to its merits as aon a quiet Sunday rattling their halters, as disturbed spirits in commercial boarding establishment—it was worthy to standtales of haunted houses are said to clank their chains. where it did. There was one staircase-window in it, at the sideTo tell of half the queer old taverns that had a drowsy and of the house, on the ground floor; which tradition said hadsecret existence near Todgers’s, would fill a goodly book; while not been opened for a hundred years at least, and which, abuttingon an always dirty lane, was so begrimed and coated witha second volume no less capacious might be devoted to anaccount of the quaint old guests who frequented their dimly a century’s mud, that no one pane of glass could possibly falllighted parlours. These were, in general, ancient inhabitants out, though all were cracked and broken twenty times. Butof that region; born, and bred there from boyhood. who had the grand mystery of Todgers’s was the cellarage, approachableonly by a little back door and a rusty grating; whichlong since become wheezy and asthmatical, and short of breath,except in the article of story-telling; in which respect they cellarage within the memory of man had had no connection136

Charles Dickenswith the house, but had always been the freehold property of him. Then there were steeples, towers, belfries, shining vanes,somebody else, and was reported to be full of wealth; though and masts of ships; a very forest. Gables, housetops, garretwindows,wilderness upon wilderness. Smoke and noisein what shape—whether in silver, brass, or gold, or butts ofwine, or casks of gun-powder—was matter of profound uncertaintyand supreme indifference to Todgers’s and all its in-After the first glance, there were slight features in the midstenough for all the world at once.mates.of this crowd of objects, which sprung out from the massThe top of the house was worthy of notice. There was a without any reason, as it were, and took hold of the attentionsort of terrace on the roof, with posts and fragments of rotten whether the spectator would or no. Thus, the revolving chimney-potson one great stack of buildings seemed to be turninglines, once intended to dry clothes upon; and there were twoor three tea-chests out there, full of earth, with forgotten plants gravely to each other every now and then, and whispering thein them, like old walking-sticks. Whoever climbed to this result of their separate observation of what was going on below.Others, of a crook-backed shape, appeared to be mali-observatory, was stunned at first from having knocked hishead against the little door in coming out; and after that, was ciously holding themselves askew, that they might shut thefor the moment choked from having looked perforce, straight prospect out and baffle Todgers’s. The man who was mendinga pen at an upper window over the way, became of para-down the kitchen chimney; but these two stages over, therewere things to gaze at from the top of Todgers’s, well worth mount importance in the scene, and made a blank in it, ridiculouslydisproportionate in its extent, when he retired. Theyour seeing too. For first and foremost, if the day were bright,you observed upon the house-tops, stretching far away, a long gambols of a piece of cloth upon the dyer’s pole had far moredark path; the shadow of the Monument; and turning round, interest for the moment than all the changing motion of thethe tall original was close beside you, with every hair erect crowd. Yet even while the looker-on felt angry with himselfupon his golden head, as if the doings of the city frightened for this, and wondered how it was, the tumult swelled into a137

Martin Chuzzlewitroar; the hosts of objects seemed to thicken and expand a and establishing himself in foreign countries as a bachelor.hundredfold, and after gazing round him, quite scared, he ‘Your pa was once a little particular in his attentions, myturned into Todgers’s again, much more rapidly than he came dears,’ said Mrs Todgers, ‘but to be your ma was too muchout; and ten to one he told M. Todgers afterwards that if he happiness denied me. You’d hardly know who this was donehadn’t done so, he would certainly have come into the street for, perhaps?’by the shortest cut; that is to say, head-foremost.She called their attention to an oval miniature, like a littleSo said the two Miss Pecksniffs, when they retired with blister, which was tacked up over the kettle-holder, and inMrs Todgers from this place of espial, leaving the youthful which there was a dreamy shadowing forth of her own visage.porter to close the door and follow them downstairs; who, ‘It’s a speaking likeness!’ cried the two Miss Pecksniffs.being of a playful temperament, and contemplating with a ‘It was considered so once,’ said Mrs Todgers, warming herselfin a gentlemanly manner at the fire; ‘but I hardly thoughtdelight peculiar to his sex and time of life, any chance of dashinghimself into small fragments, lingered behind to walk you would have known it, my loves.’upon the parapet.They would have known it anywhere. If they could haveIt being the second day of their stay in London, the Miss met with it in the street, or seen it in a shop window, theyPecksniffs and Mrs Todgers were by this time highly confidential,insomuch that the last-named lady had already com-‘Presiding over an establishment like this, makes sad havocwould have cried ‘Good gracious! Mrs Todgers!’municated the particulars of three early disappointments of a with the features, my dear Miss Pecksniffs,’ said Mrs Todgers.tender nature; and had furthermore possessed her young friends ‘The gravy alone, is enough to add twenty years to one’s age,with a general summary of the life, conduct, and character of I do assure you.’Mr Todgers. Who, it seemed, had cut his matrimonial career ‘Lor’!’ cried the two Miss Pecksniffs.rather short, by unlawfully running away from his happiness, ‘The anxiety of that one item, my dears,’ said Mrs Todgers,138

Charles Dickens‘keeps the mind continually upon the stretch. There is no ‘For goodness sake, Mrs Todgers,’ interposed the lively Merry,such passion in human nature, as the passion for gravy among ‘don’t call him a gentleman. My dear Cherry, Pinch a gentleman!The idea!’commercial gentlemen. It’s nothing to say a joint won’t yield—a whole animal wouldn’t yield—the amount of gravy they ‘What a wicked girl you are!’ cried Mrs Todgers, embracingexpect each day at dinner. And what I have undergone in consequence,’cried Mrs Todgers, raising her eyes and shaking her My dear Miss Pecksniff, what a happiness your sister’s spiritsher with great affection. ‘You are quite a quiz, I do declare!head, ‘no one would believe!’must be to your pa and self!’‘Just like Mr Pinch, Merry!’ said Charity. ‘We have always ‘He’s the most hideous, goggle-eyed creature, Mrs Todgers,noticed it in him, you remember?’in existence,’ resumed Merry: ‘quite an ogre. The ugliest,‘Yes, my dear,’ giggled Merry, ‘but we have never given it awkwardest frightfullest being, you can imagine. This is hishim, you know.’sister, so I leave you to suppose what SHE is. I shall be obliged‘You, my dears, having to deal with your pa’s pupils who to laugh outright, I know I shall!’ cried the charming girl, ‘Ican’t help themselves, are able to take your own way,’ said never shall be able to keep my countenance. The notion of aMrs Todgers; ‘but in a commercial establishment, where any Miss Pinch presuming to exist at all is sufficient to kill one,gentleman may say any Saturday evening, “Mrs Todgers, this but to see her —oh my stars!’day week we part, in consequence of the cheese,” it is not so Mrs Todgers laughed immensely at the dear love’s humour,easy to preserve a pleasant understanding. Your pa was kind and declared she was quite afraid of her, that she was. She was soenough,’ added the good lady, ‘to invite me to take a ride very severe.with you to-day; and I think he mentioned that you were ‘Who is severe?’ cried a voice at the door. ‘There is no such thinggoing to call upon Miss Pinch. Any relation to the gentleman as severity in our family, I hope!’ And then Mr Pecksniff peepedyou were speaking of just now, Miss Pecksniff?’smilingly into the room, and said, ‘May I come in, Mrs Todgers?’139

Martin ChuzzlewitMrs Todgers almost screamed, for the little door of communicationbetween that room and the inner one being wide desire to pay polite attention to my daughters, as an addi-‘I have conceived a great regard for Jinkins. I take Jinkins’sopen, there was a full disclosure of the sofa bedstead in all its tional proof of the friendly feeling of Jinkins, Mrs Todgers.’monstrous impropriety. But she had the presence of mind to ‘Well now,’ returned that lady, ‘having said so much, youclose this portal in the twinkling of an eye; and having done must say the rest, Mr Pecksniff; so tell the dear young ladiesso, said, though not without confusion, ‘Oh yes, Mr Pecksniff, all about it.’you can come in, if you please.’With these words she gently eluded Mr Pecksniff’s grasp,‘How are we to-day,’ said Mr Pecksniff, jocosely. ‘and what and took Miss Charity into her own embrace; though whetherare our plans? Are we ready to go and see Tom Pinch’s sister? she was impelled to this proceeding solely by the irrepressibleHa, ha, ha! Poor Thomas Pinch!’affection she had conceived for that young lady, or whether it‘Are we ready,’ returned Mrs Todgers, nodding her head had any reference to a lowering, not to say distinctly spitefulwith mysterious intelligence, ‘to send a favourable reply to expression which had been visible in her face for some moments,has never been exactly ascertained. Be this as it may,Mr Jinkins’s round-robin? That’s the first question, MrPecksniff.’Mr Pecksniff went on to inform his daughters of the purport‘Why Mr Jinkins’s robin, my dear madam?’ asked Mr and history of the round-robin aforesaid, which was in brief,Pecksniff, putting one arm round Mercy, and the other round that the commercial gentlemen who helped to make up theMrs Todgers, whom he seemed, in the abstraction of the sum and substance of that noun of multitude signifying many,moment, to mistake for Charity. ‘Why Mr Jinkins’s?’ called Todgers’s, desired the honour of their presence at the‘Because he began to get it up, and indeed always takes the general table, so long as they remained in the house, and besoughtthat they would grace the board at dinner-time nextlead in the house,’ said Mrs Todgers, playfully. ‘That’s why, sir.’‘Jinkins is a man of superior talents,’ observed Mr Pecksniff. day, the same being Sunday. He further said, that Mrs Todgers140

Charles Dickensbeing a consenting party to this invitation, he was willing, for To this mansion Mr Pecksniff, accompanied by his daughtersand Mrs Todgers, drove gallantly in a one-horse fly. Thehis part, to accept it; and so left them that he might write hisgracious answer, the while they armed themselves with their foregoing ceremonies having been all performed, they werebest bonnets for the utter defeat and overthrow of Miss Pinch. ushered into the house; and so, by degrees, they got at lastTom Pinch’s sister was governess in a family, a lofty family; into a small room with books in it, where Mr Pinch’s sisterperhaps the wealthiest brass and copper founders’ family was at that moment instructing her eldest pupil; to wit, aknown to mankind. They lived at Camberwell; in a house so premature little woman of thirteen years old, who had alreadyarrived at such a pitch of whalebone and education thatbig and fierce, that its mere outside, like the outside of a giant’scastle, struck terror into vulgar minds and made bold persons she had nothing girlish about her, which was a source of greatquail. There was a great front gate; with a great bell, whose rejoicing to all her relations and friends.handle was in itself a note of admiration; and a great lodge; ‘Visitors for Miss Pinch!’ said the footman. He must havewhich being close to the house, rather spoilt the look-out been an ingenious young man, for he said it very cleverly;certainly but made the look-in tremendous. At this entry, a with a nice discrimination between the cold respect with whichgreat porter kept constant watch and ward; and when he gave he would have announced visitors to the family, and the warmthe visitor high leave to pass, he rang a second great bell, responsiveto whose note a great footman appeared in due time tors to the cook.personal interest with which he would have announced visi-at the great halldoor, with such great tags upon his liveried ‘Visitors for Miss Pinch!’shoulder that he was perpetually entangling and hooking himselfamong the chairs and tables, and led a life of torment declared that her list of callers was not numerous. At the sameMiss Pinch rose hastily; with such tokens of agitation as plainlywhich could scarcely have been surpassed, if he had been a time, the little pupil became alarmingly upright, and preparedblue-bottle in a world of cobwebs.herself to take mental notes of all that might be said and done.141

Martin ChuzzlewitFor the lady of the establishment was curious in the natural of genteel grimness, suitable to any state of mind, and involvingany shade of opinion.history and habits of the animal called Governess, and encouragedher daughters to report thereon whenever occasion served; ‘Don’t be alarmed, Miss Pinch,’ said Mr Pecksniff, takingwhich was, in reference to all parties concerned, very laudable, her hand condescendingly in one of his, and patting it withimproving, and pleasant.the other. ‘I have called to see you, in pursuance of a promiseIt is a melancholy fact; but it must be related, that Mr Pinch’s given to your brother, Thomas Pinch. My name—composesister was not at all ugly. On the contrary, she had a good face; yourself, Miss Pinch—is Pecksniff.’a very mild and prepossessing face; and a pretty little figure— The good man emphasised these words as though he wouldslight and short, but remarkable for its neatness. There was have said, ‘You see in me, young person, the benefactor ofsomething of her brother, much of him indeed, in a certain your race; the patron of your house; the preserver of yourgentleness of manner, and in her look of timid trustfulness; brother, who is fed with manna daily from my table; and inbut she was so far from being a fright, or a dowdy, or a horror,or anything else, predicted by the two Miss Pecksniffs, present standing in the books beyond the sky. But I have noright of whom there is a considerable balance in my favour atthat those young ladies naturally regarded her with great indignation,feeling that this was by no means what they had The poor girl felt it all as if it had been Gospel truth. Herpride, for I can afford to do without it!’come to see.brother writing in the fullness of his simple heart, had oftenMiss Mercy, as having the larger share of gaiety, bore up the told her so, and how much more! As Mr Pecksniff ceased tobest against this disappointment, and carried it off, in outward speak, she hung her head, and dropped a tear upon his hand.show at least, with a titter; but her sister, not caring to hide her ‘Oh very well, Miss Pinch!’ thought the sharp pupil, ‘cryingbefore strangers, as if you didn’t like the situation!’disdain, expressed it pretty openly in her looks. As to MrsTodgers, she leaned on Mr Pecksniff’s arm and preserved a kind ‘Thomas is well,’ said Mr Pecksniff; ‘and sends his love and142

Charles Dickensthis letter. I cannot say, poor fellow, that he will ever be distinguishedin our profession; but he has the will to do well, which own simplicity and Tom’s own smile, ‘to come here; very‘It was very kind of you,’ said Tom Pinch’s sister, with Tom’sis the next thing to having the power; and, therefore, we must kind indeed; though how great a kindness you have done mebear with him. Eh?’in gratifying my wish to see you, and to thank you with my‘I know he has the will, sir,’ said Tom Pinch’s sister, ‘and I own lips, you, who make so light of benefits conferred, canknow how kindly and considerately you cherish it, for which scarcely think.’neither he nor I can ever be grateful enough, as we very often ‘Very grateful; very pleasant; very proper,’ murmured Mrsay in writing to each other. The young ladies too,’ she added, Pecksniff.glancing gratefully at his two daughters, ‘I know how much ‘It makes me happy too,’ said Ruth Pinch, who now thatwe owe to them.’her first surprise was over, had a chatty, cheerful way with her,‘My dears,’ said Mr Pecksniff, turning to them with a smile: and a single-hearted desire to look upon the best side of everything,which was the very moral and image of Tom; ‘very‘Thomas’s sister is saying something you will be glad to hear,I think.’happy to think that you will be able to tell him how more‘We can’t take any merit to ourselves, papa!’ cried Cherry, as than comfortably I am situated here, and how unnecessary itthey both apprised Tom Pinch’s sister, with a curtsey, that is that he should ever waste a regret on my being cast uponthey would feel obliged if she would keep her distance. ‘Mr my own resources. Dear me! So long as I heard that he wasPinch’s being so well provided for is owing to you alone, and happy, and he heard that I was,’ said Tom’s sister, ‘we couldwe can only say how glad we are to hear that he is as grateful both bear, without one impatient or complaining thought, aas he ought to be.’great deal more than ever we have had to endure, I am very‘Oh very well, Miss Pinch!’ thought the pupil again. ‘Got a certain.’ And if ever the plain truth were spoken on this occasionallyfalse earth, Tom’s sister spoke it when she said grateful brother, living on other people’s kindness!’that.143

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Ah!’ cried Mr Pecksniff whose eyes had in the meantime ployment; but that I could not leave this very chaste mansion,without adding my humble tribute, as an Architect, towandered to the pupil; ‘certainly. And how do you do, myvery interesting child?’the correctness and elegance of the owner’s taste, and to his‘Quite well, I thank you, sir,’ replied that frosty innocent. just appreciation of that beautiful art to the cultivation of‘A sweet face this, my dears,’ said Mr Pecksniff, turning to which I have devoted a life, and to the promotion of whosehis daughters. ‘A charming manner!’glory and advancement I have sacrified a—a fortune—I shallBoth young ladies had been in ecstasies with the scion of a be very much obliged to you.’wealthy house (through whom the nearest road and shortest ‘Missis’s compliments to Miss Pinch,’ said the footman,cut to her parents might be supposed to lie) from the first. suddenly appearing, and speaking in exactly the same key asMrs Todgers vowed that anything one quarter so angelic she before, ‘and begs to know wot my young lady is a-learning ofhad never seen. ‘She wanted but a pair of wings, a dear,’ said just now.’that good woman, ‘to be a young syrup’—meaning, possibly, ‘Oh!’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘Here is the young man. HE willyoung sylph, or seraph.take the card. With my compliments, if you please, young‘If you will give that to your distinguished parents, my man. My dears, we are interrupting the studies. Let us go.’amiable little friend,’ said Mr Pecksniff, producing one of his Some confusion was occasioned for an instant by Mrsprofessional cards, ‘and will say that I and my daughters—’ Todgers’s unstrapping her little flat hand-basket, and hurriedly‘And Mrs Todgers, pa,’ said Merry.entrusting the ‘young man’ with one of her own cards, which,‘And Mrs Todgers, of London,’ added Mr Pecksniff; ‘that I, in addition to certain detailed information relative to the termsand my daughters, and Mrs Todgers, of London, did not intrudeupon them, as our object simply was to take some nofectthat M. T. took that opportunity of thanking those gentle-of the commercial establishment, bore a foot-note to the efticeof Miss Pinch, whose brother is a young man in my emmenwho had honoured her with their favours, and begged144

Charles Dickensthey would have the goodness, if satisfied with the table, to ing past Miss Pinch with each a haughty inclination of therecommend her to their friends. But Mr Pecksniff, with admirablepresence of mind, recovered this document, and but-passage.head and a curtsey strangled in its birth, flounced into thetoned it up in his own pocket.The young man had rather a long job in showing themThen he said to Miss Pinch—with more condescension and out; for Mr Pecksniff’s delight in the tastefulness of the housekindness than ever, for it was desirable the footman should was such that he could not help often stopping (particularlyexpressly understand that they were not friends of hers, but when they were near the parlour door) and giving it expression,in a loud voice and very learned terms. Indeed, he deliv-patrons:‘Good morning. Good-bye. God bless you! You may dependupon my continued protection of your brother Tho-the whole science of architecture as applied to dwelling-houses,ered, between the study and the hall, a familiar exposition ofmas. Keep your mind quite at ease, Miss Pinch!’and was yet in the freshness of his eloquence when they reached‘Thank you,’ said Tom’s sister heartily; ‘a thousand times.’ the garden.‘Not at all,’ he retorted, patting her gently on the head. ‘If you look,’ said Mr Pecksniff, backing from the steps,‘Don’t mention it. You will make me angry if you do. My with his head on one side and his eyes half-shut that he mightsweet child’—to the pupil—’farewell! That fairy creature,’ the better take in the proportions of the exterior: ‘If you look,said Mr Pecksniff, looking in his pensive mood hard at the my dears, at the cornice which supports the roof, and observefootman, as if he meant him, ‘has shed a vision on my path, the airiness of its construction, especially where it sweeps therefulgent in its nature, and not easily to be obliterated. My southern angle of the building, you will feel with me—Howdears, are you ready?’do you do, sir? I hope you’re well?’They were not quite ready yet, for they were still caressing Interrupting himself with these words, he very politelythe pupil. But they tore themselves away at length; and sweep-bowed to a middle-aged gentleman at an upper window, to145

Martin Chuzzlewitwhom he spoke—not because the gentleman could hear him ‘But you are intruding,’ returned the other, ‘unwarrantably(for he certainly could not), but as an appropriate accompanimentto his salutation.do you think it’s meant for? Open the gate there! Show thatintruding. Trespassing. You see a gravel walk, don’t you? What‘I have no doubt, my dears,’ said Mr Pecksniff, feigning to party out!’point out other beauties with his hand, ‘that this is the proprietor.I should be glad to know him. It might lead to somepeared.With that he clapped down the window again, and disapthing.Is he looking this way, Charity?’Mr Pecksniff put on his hat, and walked with great deliberationand in profound silence to the fly, gazing at the clouds‘He is opening the window pa!’‘Ha, ha!’ cried Mr Pecksniff softly. ‘All right! He has found as he went, with great interest. After helping his daughtersI’m professional. He heard me inside just now, I have no doubt. and Mrs Todgers into that conveyance, he stood looking at itDon’t look! With regard to the fluted pillars in the portico, for some moments, as if he were not quite certain whether itmy dears—’was a carriage or a temple; but having settled this point in his‘Hallo!’ cried the gentleman.mind, he got into his place, spread his hands out on his knees,‘Sir, your servant!’ said Mr Pecksniff, taking off his hat. ‘I and smiled upon the three beholders.am proud to make your acquaintance.’But his daughters, less tranquil-minded, burst into a torrentof indignation. This came, they said, of cherishing such‘Come off the grass, will you!’ roared the gentleman.‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, doubtful of his creatures as the Pinches. This came of lowering themselves tohaving heard aright. ‘Did you—?’their level. This came of putting themselves in the humiliatingposition of seeming to know such bold, audacious, cun-‘Come off the grass!’ repeated the gentleman, warmly.‘We are unwilling to intrude, sir,’ Mr Pecksniff smilingly ning, dreadful girls as that. They had expected this. They hadbegan.predicted it to Mrs Todgers, as she (Todgers) could depone,146

Charles Dickensthat very morning. To this, they added, that the owner of the As to Mr Pecksniff, he told them in the fly, that a goodhouse, supposing them to be Miss Pinch’s friends, had acted, action was its own reward; and rather gave them to understand,that if he could have been kicked in such a cause, hein their opinion, quite correctly, and had done no more than,under such circumstances, might reasonably have been expected.To that they added (with a trifling inconsistency), that the young ladies, who scolded violently the whole way back,would have liked it all the better. But this was no comfort tohe was a brute and a bear; and then they merged into a flood and even exhibited, more than once, a keen desire to attackof tears, which swept away all wandering epithets before it. the devoted Mrs Todgers; on whose personal appearance, butPerhaps Miss Pinch was scarcely so much to blame in the particularly on whose offending card and hand-basket, theymatter as the Seraph, who, immediately on the withdrawal of were secretly inclined to lay the blame of half their failure.the visitors, had hastened to report them at head-quarters, with Todgers’s was in a great bustle that evening, partly owing toa full account of their having presumptuously charged her with some additional domestic preparations for the morrow, andthe delivery of a message afterwards consigned to the footman; partly to the excitement always inseparable in that house fromwhich outrage, taken in conjunction with Mr Pecksniff’s unobtrusiveremarks on the establishment, might possibly have ferent hour in its own little bundle, with his private accountSaturday night, when every gentleman’s linen arrived at a dif-had some share in their dismissal. Poor Miss Pinch, however, pinned on the outside. There was always a great clinking ofhad to bear the brunt of it with both parties; being so severely pattens downstairs, too, until midnight or so, on Saturdays;taken to task by the Seraph’s mother for having such vulgar together with a frequent gleaming of mysterious lights in theacquaintances, that she was fain to retire to her own room in area; much working at the pump; and a constant jangling oftears, which her natural cheerfulness and submission, and the the iron handle of the pail. Shrill altercations from time todelight of having seen Mr Pecksniff, and having received a letterfrom her brother, were at first insufficient to repress. remote back kitchens; and sounds were occasionallytime arose between Mrs Todgers and unknown females inheard,147

Martin Chuzzlewitindicative of small articles of iron mongery and hardware beingthrown at the boy. It was the custom of that youth on In the course of answering another knock, he thrust in hisnow. An’t she a-putting in the water? Oh! not at all neither!’Saturdays, to roll up his shirt sleeves to his shoulders, and head again.pervade all parts of the house in an apron of coarse green ‘I say! There’s fowls to-morrow. Not skinny ones. Oh no!’baize; moreover, he was more strongly tempted on Saturdays Presently he called through the key-hole:than on other days (it being a busy time), to make excursive ‘There’s a fish to-morrow. Just come. Don’t eat none ofbolts into the neighbouring alleys when he answered the door, him!’ And, with this special warning, vanished again.and there to play at leap-frog and other sports with vagrant By-and-bye, he returned to lay the cloth for supper; it havingbeen arranged between Mrs Todgers and the young ladies,lads, until pursued and brought back by the hair of his heador the lobe of his ear; thus he was quite a conspicuous feature that they should partake of an exclusive veal-cutlet togetheramong the peculiar incidents of the last day in the week at in the privacy of that apartment. He entertained them on thisTodgers’s.occasion by thrusting the lighted candle into his mouth, andHe was especially so on this particular Saturday evening, exhibiting his face in a state of transparency; after the performanceof which feat, he went on with his professional duties;and honoured the Miss Pecksniffs with a deal of notice; seldompassing the door of Mrs Todgers’s private room, where brightening every knife as he laid it on the table, by breathingthey sat alone before the fire, working by the light of a solitarycandle, without putting in his head and greeting them already mentioned. When he had completed his preparations,on the blade and afterwards polishing the same on the apronwith some such compliments as, ‘There you are agin!’ ‘An’t it he grinned at the sisters, and expressed his belief that the approachingcollation would be of ‘rather a spicy sort.’nice?’—and similar humorous attentions.‘I say,’ he whispered, stopping in one of his journeys to and ‘Will it be long, before it’s ready, Bailey?’ asked Mercy.fro, ‘young ladies, there’s soup to-morrow. She’s a-making it ‘No,’ said Bailey, ‘it IS cooked. When I come up, she was148

Charles Dickensdodging among the tender pieces with a fork, and eating of tumblers and hot water, and much disturbed the two Miss‘em.’Pecksniffs by squinting hideously behind the back of the unconsciousMrs Todgers. Having done this justice to hisBut he had scarcely achieved the utterance of these words,when he received a manual compliment on the head, which wounded feelings, he retired underground; where, in companywith a swarm of black beetles and a kitchen candle, hesent him staggering against the wall; and Mrs Todgers, dish inhand, stood indignantly before him.employed his faculties in cleaning boots and brushing clothes‘Oh you little villain!’ said that lady. ‘Oh you bad, false until the night was far advanced.boy!’Benjamin was supposed to be the real name of this young‘No worse than yerself,’ retorted Bailey, guarding his head, retainer but he was known by a great variety of names. Benjamin,for instance, had been converted into Uncle Ben, andon a principle invented by Mr Thomas Cribb. ‘Ah! Comenow! Do that again, will yer?’that again had been corrupted into Uncle; which, by an easy‘He’s the most dreadful child,’ said Mrs Todgers, setting transition, had again passed into Barnwell, in memory of thedown the dish, ‘I ever had to deal with. The gentlemen spoil celebrated relative in that degree who was shot by his nephewhim to that extent, and teach him such things, that I’m afraid George, while meditating in his garden at Camberwell. Thenothing but hanging will ever do him any good.’gentlemen at Todgers’s had a merry habit, too, of bestowing‘Won’t it!’ cried Bailey. ‘Oh! Yes! Wot do you go a-lowerin upon him, for the time being, the name of any notoriousthe table-beer for then, and destroying my constitooshun?’ malefactor or minister; and sometimes when current events‘Go downstairs, you vicious boy,’ said Mrs Todgers, holdingthe door open. ‘Do you hear me? Go along!’tinctions; as Mr Pitt, Young Brownrigg, and the like. At thewere flat they even sought the pages of history for these dis-After two or three dexterous feints, he went, and was seen period of which we write, he was generally known among theno more that night, save once, when he brought up some gentlemen as Bailey junior; a name bestowed upon him in149

Martin Chuzzlewitcontradistinction, perhaps, to Old Bailey; and possibly as involvingthe recollection of an unfortunate lady of the same ducting them upstairs.their parent who was in waiting, besought the honour of con-name, who perished by her own hand early in life, and has The drawing-room at Todgers’s was out of the commonbeen immortalised in a ballad.style; so much so indeed, that you would hardly have takenThe usual Sunday dinner-hour at Todgers’s was two it to be a drawingroom, unless you were told so by somebodywho was in the secret. It was floor-clothed all over;o’clock—a suitable time, it was considered for all parties; convenientto Mrs Todgers, on account of the bakers; and convenientto the gentlemen with reference to their afternoon en-papered. Besides the three little windows, with seats in them,and the ceiling, including a great beam in the middle, wasgagements. But on the Sunday which was to introduce the commanding the opposite archway, there was another windowlooking point blank, without any compromise at alltwo Miss Pecksniffs to a full knowledge of Todgers’s and itssociety, the dinner was postponed until five, in order that about it into Jinkins’s bedroom; and high up, all along oneeverything might be as genteel as the occasion demanded. side of the wall was a strip of panes of glass, two-deep, givinglight to the staircase. There were the oddest closets pos-When the hour drew nigh, Bailey junior, testifying greatexcitement, appeared in a complete suit of cast-off clothes sible, with little casements in them like eight-day clocks,several sizes too large for him, and in particular, mounted a lurking in the wainscot and taking the shape of the stairs;clean shirt of such extraordinary magnitude, that one of the and the very door itself (which was painted black) had twogentlemen (remarkable for his ready wit) called him ‘collars’ great glass eyes in its forehead, with an inquisitive green pupilon the spot. At about a quarter before five, a deputation, in the middle of each.consisting of Mr Jinkins, and another gentleman, whose name Here the gentlemen were all assembled. There was a generalwas Gander, knocked at the door of Mrs Todgers’s room, cry of ‘Hear, hear!’ and ‘Bravo Jink!’ when Mr Jinkins appearedwith Charity on his arm; which became quite and, being formally introduced to the two Miss Pecksniffs byraptur-150

Charles Dickensous as Mr Gander followed, escorting Mercy, and Mr Pecksniff great many carriages by sight. He spoke mysteriously, too, ofbrought up the rear with Mrs Todgers.splendid women, and was suspected of having once committedhimself with a Countess. Mr Gander was of a witty turnThen the presentations took place. They included a gentlemanof a sporting turn, who propounded questions on jockey being indeed the gentleman who had originated the sally aboutsubjects to the editors of Sunday papers, which were regarded ‘collars;’ which sparkling pleasantry was now retailed fromby his friends as rather stiff things to answer; and they includeda gentleman of a theatrical turn, who had once enter-received in all parts of the room with great applause. Mr Jinkinsmouth to mouth, under the title of Gander’s Last, and wastained serious thoughts of ‘coming out,’ but had been kept in it may be added, was much the oldest of the party; being aby the wickedness of human nature; and they included a fish-salesman’s book-keeper, aged forty. He was the oldestgentleman of a debating turn, who was strong at speech-making;and a gentleman of a literary turn, who wrote squibs lead in the house, as Mrs Todgers had already said.boarder also; and in right of his double seniority, took theupon the rest, and knew the weak side of everybody’s characterbut his own. There was a gentleman of a vocal turn, and a and poor Mrs Todgers, being reproached in confidence byThere was considerable delay in the production of dinner,gentleman of a smoking turn, and a gentleman of a convivial Jinkins, slipped in and out, at least twenty times to see aboutturn; some of the gentlemen had a turn for whist, and a large it; always coming back as though she had no such thing uponproportion of the gentlemen had a strong turn for billiards her mind, and hadn’t been out at all. But there was no hitchand betting. They had all, it may be presumed, a turn for in the conversation nevertheless; for one gentleman, who travelledin the perfumery line, exhibited an interesting nick-nack,business; being all commercially employed in one way orother; and had, every one in his own way, a decided turn for in the way of a remarkable cake of shaving soap which he hadpleasure to boot. Mr Jinkins was of a fashionable turn; being lately met with in Germany; and the gentleman of a literarya regular frequenter of the Parks on Sundays, and knowing a turn repeated (by desire) some sarcastic stanzas he had recently151

Martin Chuzzlewitproduced on the freezing of the tank at the back of the house. All this was highly agreeable to the two Miss Pecksniffs,These amusements, with the miscellaneous conversation arisingout of them, passed the time splendidly, until dinner was Mr Jinkins at the bottom of the table; and who were calledwho were in immense request; sitting one on either hand ofannounced by Bailey junior in these terms:upon to take wine with some new admirer every minute.‘The wittles is up!’They had hardly ever felt so pleasant, and so full of conversation,in their lives; Mercy, in particular, was uncommonlyOn which notice they immediately descended to the banquet-hall;some of the more facetious spirits in the rear taking brilliant, and said so many good things in the way of livelydown gentlemen as if they were ladies, in imitation of the repartee that she was looked upon as a prodigy. ‘In short,’ asfortunate possessors of the two Miss Pecksniffs.that young lady observed, ‘they felt now, indeed, that theyMr Pecksniff said grace—a short and pious grace, involving were in London, and for the first time too.’a blessing on the appetites of those present, and committing Their young friend Bailey sympathized in these feelings toall persons who had nothing to eat, to the care of Providence; the fullest extent, and, abating nothing of his patronage, gavewhose business (so said the grace, in effect) it clearly was, to them every encouragement in his power; favouring them, whenlook after them. This done, they fell to with less ceremony the general attention was diverted from his proceedings, withthan appetite; the table groaning beneath the weight, not only many nods and winks and other tokens of recognition, andof the delicacies whereof the Miss Pecksniffs had been previouslyforewarned, but of boiled beef, roast veal, bacon, pies press the Bacchanalian character of the meeting. In truth, per-occasionally touching his nose with a corkscrew, as if to ex-and abundance of such heavy vegetables as are favourably haps even the spirits of the two Miss Pecksniffs, and the hungrywatchfulness of Mrs Todgers, were less worthy of noteknown to housekeepers for their satisfying qualities. Besideswhich, there were bottles of stout, bottles of wine, bottles of than the proceedings of this remarkable boy, whom nothingale, and divers other strong drinks, native and foreign. disconcerted or put out of his way. If any piece of crockery, a152

Charles Dickensdish or otherwise, chanced to slip through his hands (which despondent on account of its dimensions, as there were materialsin the house for the decoction of half a dozen more ofhappened once or twice), he let it go with perfect good breeding,and never added to the painful emotions of the company the same size. Good gracious, how they laughed! How theyby exhibiting the least regret. Nor did he, by hurrying to and coughed when they sipped it, because it was so strong; andfro, disturb the repose of the assembly, as many well-trained how they laughed again when somebody vowed that but forservants do; on the contrary, feeling the hopelessness of waitingupon so large a party, he left the gentlemen to help themnocuousqualities, for new milk! What a shout of ‘No!’ burstits colour it might have been mistaken, in regard of its inselvesto what they wanted, and seldom stirred from behind from the gentlemen when they pathetically implored MrMr Jinkins’s chair, where, with his hands in his pockets, and Jinkins to suffer them to qualify it with hot water; and howhis legs planted pretty wide apart, he led the laughter, and blushingly, by little and little, did each of them drink herenjoyed the conversation.whole glassful, down to its very dregs!The dessert was splendid. No waiting either. The puddingplateshad been washed in a little tub outside the door while (gentlemanly creature, Jinkins—never at a loss!), is about toNow comes the trying time. The sun, as Mr Jinkins sayscheese was on, and though they were moist and warm with leave the firmament. ‘Miss Pecksniff!’ says Mrs Todgers, softly,friction, still there they were again, up to the mark, and true ‘will you—?’ ‘Oh dear, no more, Mrs Todgers.’ Mrs Todgersto time. Quarts of almonds; dozens of oranges; pounds of rises; the two Miss Pecksniffs rise; all rise. Miss Mercy Pecksniffraisins; stacks of biffins; soup-plates full of nuts.—Oh, looks downward for her scarf. Where is it? Dear me, whereTodgers’s could do it when it chose! mind that.CAN it be? Sweet girl, she has it on; not on her fair neck, butThen more wine came on; red wines and white wines; and loose upon her flowing figure. A dozen hands assist her. Shea large china bowl of punch, brewed by the gentleman of a is all confusion. The youngest gentleman in company thirstsconvivial turn, who adjured the Miss Pecksniffs not to be to murder Jinkins. She skips and joins her sister at the door.153

Martin ChuzzlewitHer sister has her arm about the waist of Mrs Todgers. She What saith Mr Pecksniff in reply? Or rather let the questionbe, What leaves he unsaid? Nothing. More punch is calledwinds her arm around her sister. Diana, what a picture! Thelast things visible are a shape and a skip. ‘Gentlemen, let us for, and produced, and drunk. Enthusiasm mounts still higher.drink the ladies!’Every man comes out freely in his own character. The gentlemanof a theatrical turn recites. The vocal gentleman regalesThe enthusiasm is tremendous. The gentleman of a debatingturn rises in the midst, and suddenly lets loose a tide of them with a song. Gander leaves the Gander of all formereloquence which bears down everything before it. He is remindedof a toast—a toast to which they will respond. There The Father of Todgers’s. It is their common friend Jink—it isfeasts whole leagues behind. HE rises to propose a toast. It is,is an individual present; he has him in his eye; to whom they old Jink, if he may call him by that familiar and endearingowe a debt of gratitude. He repeats it—a debt of gratitude. appellation. The youngest gentleman in company utters a franticnegative. He won’t have it—he can’t bear it—it mustn’tTheir rugged natures have been softened and ameliorated thatday, by the society of lovely woman. There is a gentleman in be. But his depth of feeling is misunderstood. He is supposedcompany whom two accomplished and delightful females to be a little elevated; and nobody heeds him.regard with veneration, as the fountain of their existence. Yes, Mr Jinkins thanks them from his heart. It is, by many degrees,the proudest day in his humble career. When he lookswhen yet the two Miss Pecksniffs lisped in language scarceintelligible, they called that individual ‘Father!’ There is great around him on the present occasion, he feels that he wantsapplause. He gives them ‘Mr Pecksniff, and God bless him!’ words in which to express his gratitude. One thing he willThey all shake hands with Mr Pecksniff, as they drink the say. He hopes it has been shown that Todgers’s can be true totoast. The youngest gentleman in company does so with a itself; and that, an opportunity arising, it can come out quitethrill; for he feels that a mysterious influence pervades the as strong as its neighbours—perhaps stronger. He remindsman who claims that being in the pink scarf for his daughter. them, amidst thunders of encouragement, that they have heard154

Charles Dickensof a somewhat similar establishment in Cannon Street; and Mrs Todgers is asleep, Miss Charity is adjusting her hair, andthat they have heard it praised. He wishes to draw no invidiouscomparisons; he would be the last man to do it; but when gracefully recumbent attitude. She is rising hastily, when MrMercy, who has made a sofa of one of the window-seats is in athat Cannon Street establishment shall be able to produce Jinkins implores her, for all their sakes, not to stir; she lookssuch a combination of wit and beauty as has graced that board too graceful and too lovely, he remarks, to be disturbed. Shethat day, and shall be able to serve up (all things considered) laughs, and yields, and fans herself, and drops her fan, and theresuch a dinner as that of which they have just partaken, he will is a rush to pick it up. Being now installed, by one consent, asbe happy to talk to it. Until then, gentlemen, he will stick to the beauty of the party, she is cruel and capricious, and sendsTodgers’s.gentlemen on messages to other gentlemen, and forgets all aboutMore punch, more enthusiasm, more speeches. Everybody’s them before they can return with the answer, and invents ahealth is drunk, saving the youngest gentleman’s in company. thousand tortures, rending their hearts to pieces. Bailey bringsHe sits apart, with his elbow on the back of a vacant chair, up the tea and coffee. There is a small cluster of admirers roundand glares disdainfully at Jinkins. Gander, in a convulsing Charity; but they are only those who cannot get near her sister.speech, gives them the health of Bailey junior; hiccups are The youngest gentleman in company is pale, but collected, andheard; and a glass is broken. Mr Jinkins feels that it is time to still sits apart; for his spirit loves to hold communion withjoin the ladies. He proposes, as a final sentiment, Mrs Todgers. itself, and his soul recoils from noisy revellers. She has a consciousnessof his presence and adoration. He sees it flashingShe is worthy to be remembered separately. Hear, hear. Soshe is; no doubt of it. They all find fault with her at other sometimes in the corner of her eye. Have a care, Jinkins, eretimes; but every man feels now, that he could die in her defence.Mr Pecksniff had followed his younger friends upstairs, andyou provoke a desperate man to frenzy!They go upstairs, where they are not expected so soon; for taken a chair at the side of Mrs Todgers. He had also spilt a155

Martin Chuzzlewitcup of coffee over his legs without appearing to be aware of ‘She was beautiful, Mrs Todgers,’ he said, turning his glazedthe circumstance; nor did he seem to know that there was eye again upon her, without the least preliminary notice. ‘Shemuffin on his knee.had a small property.’‘And how have they used you downstairs, sir?’ asked the ‘So I have heard,’ cried Mrs Todgers with great sympathy.hostess.‘Those are her daughters,’ said Mr Pecksniff, pointing out‘Their conduct has been such, my dear madam,’ said Mr the young ladies, with increased emotion.Pecksniff, ‘as I can never think of without emotion, or rememberwithout a tear. Oh, Mrs Todgers!’‘Mercy and Charity,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘Charity and Mercy.Mrs Todgers had no doubt about it.‘My goodness!’ exclaimed that lady. ‘How low you are in Not unholy names, I hope?’your spirits, sir!’‘Mr Pecksniff!’ cried Mrs Todgers. ‘What a ghastly smile!‘I am a man, my dear madam,’ said Mr Pecksniff, shedding Are you ill, sir?’tears and speaking with an imperfect articulation, ‘but I am He pressed his hand upon her arm, and answered in a solemnmanner, and a faint voice, ‘Chronic.’also a father. I am also a widower. My feelings, Mrs Todgers,will not consent to be entirely smothered, like the young childrenin the Tower. They are grown up, and the more I press ‘Chron-ic,’ he repeated with some difficulty. ‘Chron-ic. A‘Cholic?’ cried the frightened Mrs Todgers.the bolster on them, the more they look round the corner of chronic disorder. I have been its victim from childhood. It isit.’carrying me to my grave.’He suddenly became conscious of the bit of muffin, and ‘Heaven forbid!’ cried Mrs Todgers.stared at it intently; shaking his head the while, in a forlorn ‘Yes, it is,’ said Mr Pecksniff, reckless with despair. ‘I amand imbecile manner, as if he regarded it as his evil genius, rather glad of it, upon the whole. You are like her, Mrsand mildly reproached it.Todgers.’156

Charles Dickens‘Don’t squeeze me so tight, pray, Mr Pecksniff. If any of just then. But perhaps this was delusion on his part.the gentlemen should notice us.’‘It has been a day of enjoyment, Mrs Todgers, but still it‘For her sake,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Permit me—in honour has been a day of torture. It has reminded me of my loneliness.What am I in the world?’of her memory. For the sake of a voice from the tomb. Youare very like her Mrs Todgers! What a world this is!’‘An excellent gentleman, Mr Pecksniff,’ said Mrs Todgers.‘Ah! Indeed you may say that!’ cried Mrs Todgers.‘There is consolation in that too,’ cried Mr Pecksniff. ‘Am I?’‘I’m afraid it is a vain and thoughtless world,’ said Mr ‘There is no better man living,’ said Mrs Todgers, ‘I amPecksniff, overflowing with despondency. ‘These young sure.’people about us. Oh! what sense have they of their responsibilities?None. Give me your other hand, Mrs Todgers.’ his head. ‘You are very good,’ he said, ‘thank you. It is a greatMr Pecksniff smiled through his tears, and slightly shookThe lady hesitated, and said ‘she didn’t like.’happiness to me, Mrs Todgers, to make young people happy.‘Has a voice from the grave no influence?’ said Mr Pecksniff, The happiness of my pupils is my chief object. I dote uponwith, dismal tenderness. ‘This is irreligious! My dear creature.’‘Always,’ said Mrs Todgers.‘em. They dote upon me too—sometimes.’‘Hush!’ urged Mrs Todgers. ‘Really you mustn’t.’‘When they say they haven’t improved, ma’am,’ whispered‘It’s not me,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Don’t suppose it’s me; it’s Mr Pecksniff, looking at her with profound mystery, andthe voice; it’s her voice.’motioning to her to advance her ear a little closer to his mouth.Mrs Pecksniff deceased, must have had an unusually thick ‘When they say they haven’t improved, ma’am, and the premiumwas too high, they lie! I shouldn’t wish it to be men-and husky voice for a lady, and rather a stuttering voice, andto say the truth somewhat of a drunken voice, if it had ever tioned; you will understand me; but I say to you as to an oldborne much resemblance to that in which Mr Pecksniff spoke friend, they lie.’157

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Base wretches they must be!’ said Mrs Todgers.Mrs Todgers reflected, and shook her head.‘Madam,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘you are right. I respect you ‘When you hear of an orphan with three or four hundredfor that observation. A word in your ear. To Parents and Guardians.This is in confidence, Mrs Todgers?’ply, by letter post-paid, to S. P., Post Office, Salisbury. I don’tpound,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘let that dear orphan’s friends ap-‘The strictest, of course!’ cried that lady.know who he is exactly. Don’t be alarmed, Mrs Todgers,’ said‘To Parents and Guardians,’ repeated Mr Pecksniff. ‘An eligibleopportunity now offers, which unites the advantages of Let’s have a little drop of something to drink.’Mr Pecksniff, falling heavily against her; ‘Chronic—chronic!the best practical architectural education with the comforts ‘Bless my life, Miss Pecksniffs!’ cried Mrs Todgers, aloud,of a home, and the constant association with some, who, ‘your dear pa’s took very poorly!’however humble their sphere and limited their capacity— Mr Pecksniff straightened himself by a surprising effort, as everyone turned hastily towards him; and standing on his feet,observe!—are not unmindful of their moral responsibilities.’Mrs Todgers looked a little puzzled to know what this might regarded the assembly with a look of ineffable wisdom. Graduallyit gave place to a smile; a feeble, helpless, melancholy smile;mean, as well she might; for it was, as the reader may perchanceremember, Mr Pecksniff’s usual form of advertisementwhen he wanted a pupil; and seemed to have no par-Pecksniff, tenderly. ‘Do not weep for me. It is chronic.’ Andbland, almost to sickliness. ‘Do not repine, my friends,’ said Mrticular reference, at present, to anything. But Mr Pecksniff with these words, after making a futile attempt to pull off hisheld up his finger as a caution to her not to interrupt him. shoes, he fell into the fireplace.‘Do you know any parent or guardian, Mrs Todgers,’ said Mr The youngest gentleman in company had him out in a second.Yes, before a hair upon his head was singed, he had himPecksniff, ‘who desires to avail himself of such an opportunityfor a young gentleman? An orphan would be preferred. Do you on the hearth-rug—her father!know of any orphan with three or four hundred pound?’ She was almost beside herself. So was her sister. Jinkins158

Charles Dickensconsoled them both. They all consoled them. Everybody had top landing. He desired to collect their sentiments, it seemed,something to say, except the youngest gentleman in company,who with a noble self-devotion did the heavy work, ‘My friends,’ cried Mr Pecksniff, looking over the banis-upon the nature of human life.and held up Mr Pecksniff’s head without being taken notice ters, ‘let us improve our minds by mutual inquiry and discussion.Let us be moral. Let us contemplate existence. Where isof by anybody. At last they gathered round, and agreed tocarry him upstairs to bed. The youngest gentleman in companywas rebuked by Jinkins for tearing Mr Pecksniff’s coat! ‘Here,’ cried that gentleman. ‘Go to bed again’Jinkins?’Ha, ha! But no matter.‘To bed!’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Bed! ’Tis the voice of the sluggard,I hear him complain, you have woke me too soon, IThey carried him upstairs, and crushed the youngest gentlemanat every step. His bedroom was at the top of the house, must slumber again. If any young orphan will repeat the remainderof that simple piece from Doctor Watts’s collection,and it was a long way; but they got him there in course oftime. He asked them frequently on the road for a little drop an eligible opportunity now offers.’of something to drink. It seemed an idiosyncrasy. The Nobody volunteered.youngest gentleman in company proposed a draught of water. ‘This is very soothing,’ said Mr Pecksniff, after a pause.Mr Pecksniff called him opprobious names for the suggestion.The legs of the human subject, my friends, are a beautiful‘Extremely so. Cool and refreshing; particularly to the legs!Jinkins and Gander took the rest upon themselves, and made production. Compare them with wooden legs, and observehim as comfortable as they could, on the outside of his bed; the difference between the anatomy of nature and the anatomyand when he seemed disposed to sleep, they left him. But of art. Do you know,’ said Mr Pecksniff, leaning over thebefore they had all gained the bottom of the staircase, a vision banisters, with an odd recollection of his familiar mannerof Mr Pecksniff, strangely attired, was seen to flutter on the among new pupils at home, ‘that I should very much like to159

Martin Chuzzlewitsee Mrs Todgers’s notion of a wooden leg, if perfectly agreeableto herself!’Pecksniff in, and left the key on the outside; charging theWhen he had completed his arrangements, they locked MrAs it appeared impossible to entertain any reasonable hopes young page to listen attentively for symptoms of an apoplecticnature, with which the patient might be troubled, and, inof him after this speech, Mr Jinkins and Mr Gander wentupstairs again, and once more got him into bed. But they had case of any such presenting themselves, to summon themnot descended to the second floor before he was out again; without delay. To which Mr Bailey modestly replied that ‘henor, when they had repeated the process, had they descended hoped he knowed wot o’clock it wos in gineral, and didn’tthe first flight, before he was out again. In a word, as often as date his letters to his friends from Todgers’s for nothing.’he was shut up in his own room, he darted out afresh, chargedwith some new moral sentiment, which he continually repeatedover the banisters, with extraordinary relish, and anCHAPTER TENirrepressible desire for the improvement of his fellow creaturesthat nothing could subdue.CONTAINING STRANGE MATTER, ONWHICH MANY EVENTS IN THIS HISTORYUnder these circumstances, when they had got him intoMAY, FOR THEIR GOOD OR EVIL INFLUbedfor the thirtieth time or so, Mr Jinkins held him, whileENCE, CHIEFLY DEPENDhis companion went downstairs in search of Bailey junior,with whom he presently returned. That youth having beenBUT MR PECKSNIFF came to town on business. Had he forgottenthat? Was he always taking his pleasure with Todgers’sapprised of the service required of him, was in great spirits,and brought up a stool, a candle, and his supper; to the endjovial brood, unmindful of the serious demands, whateverthat he might keep watch outside the bedroom door withthey might be, upon his calm consideration? No.tolerable comfort.Time and tide will wait for no man, saith the adage. But all160

Charles Dickensmen have to wait for time and tide. That tide which, taken at This went on for four or five days. At length, one morning,the flood, would lead Seth Pecksniff on to fortune, was Mr Pecksniff returned with a breathless rapidity, strange tomarked down in the table, and about to flow. No idle observe in him, at other times so calm; and, seeking immediatespeech with his daughters, shut himself up with them inPecksniff lingered far inland, unmindful of the changes of thestream; but there, upon the water’s edge, over his shoes already,stood the worthy creature, prepared to wallow in the this period, only the following words of Mr Pecksniff’s ut-private conference for two whole hours. Of all that passed invery mud, so that it slid towards the quarter of his hope. terance are known:The trustfulness of his two fair daughters was beautiful indeed.They had that firm reliance on their parent’s nature, turn out as I expect, that he has), we needn’t stop to inquire.‘How he has come to change so very much (if it shouldwhich taught them to feel certain that in all he did he had his My dears, I have my thoughts upon the subject, but I willpurpose straight and full before him. And that its noble end not impart them. It is enough that we will not be proud,and object was himself, which almost of necessity included resentful, or unforgiving. If he wants our friendship he shallthem, they knew. The devotion of these maids was perfect. have it. We know our duty, I hope!’Their filial confidence was rendered the more touching, by That same day at noon, an old gentleman alighted from atheir having no knowledge of their parent’s real designs, in hackney-coach at the post-office, and, giving his name, inquiredfor a letter addressed to himself, and directed to be leftthe present instance. All that they knew of his proceedingswas, that every morning, after the early breakfast, he repaired till called for. It had been lying there some days. The superscriptionwas in Mr Pecksniff’s hand, and it was sealed withto the post office and inquired for letters. That task performed,his business for the day was over; and he again relaxed, until Mr Pecksniff’s seal.the rising of another sun proclaimed the advent of another It was very short, containing indeed nothing more than anpost.address ‘with Mr Pecksniff’s respectful, and (not withstand-161

Martin Chuzzlewiting what has passed) sincerely affectionate regards.’ The old incertitude as the air parted with the sound of the bells, hegentleman tore off the direction—scattering the rest in fragmentsto the winds—and giving it to the coachman, bade Mr Pecksniff was seated in the landlady’s little room, andwalked rapidly to the house, and knocked at the door.him drive as near that place as he could. In pursuance of these his visitor found him reading—by an accident; he apologisedinstructions he was driven to the Monument; where he again for it—an excellent theological work. There were cake andalighted, and dismissed the vehicle, and walked towards wine upon a little table—by another accident, for which heTodgers’s.also apologised. Indeed he said, he had given his visitor up,Though the face, and form, and gait of this old man, and and was about to partake of that simple refreshment with hiseven his grip of the stout stick on which he leaned, were all children, when he knocked at the door.expressive of a resolution not easily shaken, and a purpose (it ‘Your daughters are well?’ said old Martin, laying down hismatters little whether right or wrong, just now) such as in hat and stick.other days might have survived the rack, and had its strongest Mr Pecksniff endeavoured to conceal his agitation as a fatherwhen he answered Yes, they were. They were good girls,life in weakest death; still there were grains of hesitation in hismind, which made him now avoid the house he sought, and he said, very good. He would not venture to recommend Mrloiter to and fro in a gleam of sunlight, that brightened the Chuzzlewit to take the easy-chair, or to keep out of the draughtlittle churchyard hard by. There may have been, in the presenceof those idle heaps of dust among the busiest stir of life, expose himself, he feared, to most unjust suspicion. He would,from the door. If he made any such suggestion, he wouldsomething to increase his wavering; but there he walked, awakeningthe echoes as he paced up and down, until the church easy-chair in the room, and that the door was far from beingtherefore, content himself with remarking that there was anclock, striking the quarters for the second time since he had air-tight. This latter imperfection, he might perhaps venturebeen there, roused him from his meditation. Shaking off his to add, was not uncommonly to be met with in old houses.162

Charles DickensThe old man sat down in the easy-chair, and after a few to come. You and yours are to find that I can be constant, andmoments’ silence, said:am not to be diverted from my end. Do you hear?’‘In the first place, let me thank you for coming to London ‘Perfectly,’ said Mr Pecksniff.so promptly, at my almost unexplained request; I need scarcely ‘I very much regret,’ Martin resumed, looking steadily atadd, at my cost.’him, and speaking in a slow and measured tone; ‘I very much‘At your cost, my good sir!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, in a tone of regret that you and I held such a conversation together, as thatgreat surprise.which passed between us at our last meeting. I very much‘It is not,’ said Martin, waving his hand impatiently, ‘my regret that I laid open to you what were then my thoughts ofhabit to put my—well! my relatives—to any personal expenseto gratify my caprices.’now are of another kind; deserted by all in whom I have everyou, so freely as I did. The intentions that I bear towards you‘Caprices, my good sir!’ cried Mr Pecksnifftrusted; hoodwinked and beset by all who should help and‘That is scarcely the proper word either, in this instance,’ sustain me; I fly to you for refuge. I confide in you to be mysaid the old man. ‘No. You are right.’ally; to attach yourself to me by ties of Interest and Expectation’—helaid great stress upon these words, though MrMr Pecksniff was inwardly very much relieved to hear it,though he didn’t at all know why.Pecksniff particularly begged him not to mention it; ‘and to‘You are right,’ repeated Martin. ‘It is not a caprice. It is help me to visit the consequences of the very worst species ofbuilt up on reason, proof, and cool comparison. Caprices never meanness, dissimulation, and subtlety, on the right heads.’are. Moreover, I am not a capricious man. I never was.’ ‘My noble sir!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, catching at his outstretchedhand. ‘And you regret the having harboured unjust‘Most assuredly not,’ said Mr Pecksniff.‘How do you know?’ returned the other quickly. ‘You are thoughts of me! you with those grey hairs!’to begin to know it now. You are to test and prove it, in time ‘Regrets,’ said Martin, ‘are the natural property of grey hairs;163

Martin Chuzzlewitand I enjoy, in common with all other men, at least my share weakness from his eyes, and so given them time to get upstairs,Mr Pecksniff opened the door, and mildly cried in theof such inheritance. And so enough of that. I regret havingbeen severed from you so long. If I had known you sooner, passage,and sooner used you as you well deserve, I might have been a ‘My own darlings, where are you?’happier man.’‘Here, my dear pa!’ replied the distant voice of Charity.Mr Pecksniff looked up to the ceiling, and clasped his hands ‘Come down into the back parlour, if you please, my love,’in rapture.said Mr Pecksniff, ‘and bring your sister with you.’‘Your daughters,’ said Martin, after a short silence. ‘I don’t ‘Yes, my dear pa,’ cried Merry; and down they came directly(being all obedience), singing as they came.know them. Are they like you?’‘In the nose of my eldest and the chin of my youngest, Mr Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the two MissChuzzlewit,’ returned the widower, ‘their sainted parent (not Pecksniffs when they found a stranger with their dear papa.myself, their mother) lives again.’Nothing could surpass their mute amazement when he said,‘I don’t mean in person,’ said the old man. ‘Morally, morally.’Mr Chuzzlewit and he were friends, and that Mr Chuzzlewit‘My children, Mr Chuzzlewit!’ But when he told them that‘’Tis not for me to say,’ retorted Mr Pecksniff with a gentle had said such kind and tender words as pierced his very heart,smile. ‘I have done my best, sir.’the two Miss Pecksniffs cried with one accord, ‘Thank Heaven‘I could wish to see them,’ said Martin; ‘are they near at for this!’ and fell upon the old man’s neck. And when theyhand?’had embraced him with such fervour of affection that noThey were, very near; for they had in fact been listening at words can describe it, they grouped themselves about his chair,the door from the beginning of this conversation until now, and hung over him, as figuring to themselves no earthly joywhen they precipitately retired. Having wiped the signs of like that of ministering to his wants, and crowding into the164

Charles Dickensremainder of his life, the love they would have diffused over ‘Do you never sit down?’their whole existence, from infancy, if he—dear obdurate!— ‘Why—yes—occasionally, sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, who hadhad but consented to receive the precious offering.been standing all this time.The old man looked attentively from one to the other, and ‘Will you do so now?’then at Mr Pecksniff, several times.‘Can you ask me,’ returned Mr Pecksniff, slipping into a‘What,’ he asked of Mr Pecksniff, happening to catch his chair immediately, ‘whether I will do anything that you desire?’eye in its descent; for until now it had been piously upraised, ‘You talk confidently,’ said Martin, ‘and you mean well;with something of that expression which the poetry of ages but I fear you don’t know what an old man’s humours are.has attributed to a domestic bird, when breathing its last amid You don’t know what it is to be required to court his likingsthe ravages of an electric storm: ‘What are their names?’ and dislikings; to adapt yourself to his prejudices; to do hisMr Pecksniff told him, and added, rather hastily; his bidding, be it what it may; to bear with his distrusts andcaluminators would have said, with a view to any testamentarythoughts that might be flitting through old Martin’s mind; remember how numerous these failings are in me, and judgejealousies; and always still be zealous in his service. When I‘Perhaps, my dears, you had better write them down. Your of their occasional enormity by the injurious thoughts I latelyhumble autographs are of no value in themselves, but affectionmay prize them.’‘My worthy sir,’ returned his relative, ‘how CAN you talkentertained of you, I hardly dare to claim you for my friend.’‘Affection,’ said the old man, ‘will expend itself on the livingoriginals. Do not trouble yourselves, my girls, I shall not should make one slight mistake, when in all other respectsin such a painful strain! What was more natural than that youso easily forget you, Charity and Mercy, as to need such tokensof remembrance. Cousin!’very sad and undeniable reason—to judge of every one aboutyou were so very correct, and have had such reason—such‘Sir!’ said Mr Pecksniff, with alacrity.you in the worst light!’165

Martin Chuzzlewit‘True,’ replied the other. ‘You are very lenient with me.’ spoke to me, disinterestedly, on behalf of—I needn’t name him.‘We always said, my girls and I,’ cried Mr Pecksniff with You know whom I mean.’increasing obsequiousness, ‘that while we mourned the heavinessof our misfortune in being confounded with the base his hot hands together, and replied, with humility, ‘QuiteTrouble was expressed in Mr Pecksniff’s visage, as he pressedand mercenary, still we could not wonder at it. My dears, you disinterestedly, sir, I assure you.’remember?’‘I know it,’ said old Martin, in his quiet way. ‘I am sure ofOh vividly! A thousand times!it. I said so. It was disinterested too, in you, to draw that herd‘We uttered no complaint,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Occasionallywe had the presumption to console ourselves with the other men would have suffered them to display themselves inof harpies off from me, and be their victim yourself; mostremark that Truth would in the end prevail, and Virtue be all their rapacity, and would have striven to rise, by contrast,triumphant; but not often. My loves, you recollect?’ in my estimation. You felt for me, and drew them off, forRecollect! Could he doubt it! Dearest pa, what strange unnecessaryquestions!know what passed behind my back, you see!’which I owe you many thanks. Although I left the place, I‘And when I saw you,’ resumed Mr Pecksniff, with still ‘You amaze me, sir!’ cried Mr Pecksniff; which was truegreater deference, ‘in the little, unassuming village where we enough.take the liberty of dwelling, I said you were mistaken in me, ‘My knowledge of your proceedings,’ said the old man,my dear sir; that was all, I think?’does not stop at this. You have a new inmate in your house.’‘No—not all,’ said Martin, who had been sitting with his ‘Yes, sir,’ rejoined the architect, ‘I have.’hand upon his brow for some time past, and now looked up ‘He must quit it’ said Martin.again; ‘you said much more, which, added to other circumstancesthat have come to my knowledge, opened my eyes. You‘For—for yours?’ asked Mr Pecksniff, with a quaveringmildness.166

Charles Dickens‘For any shelter he can find,’ the old man answered. ‘He has the honour of human nature, say you’re not about to tell medeceived you.’that!’‘I hope not’ said Mr Pecksniff, eagerly. ‘I trust not. I have ‘I thought he had suppressed it,’ said the old man.been extremely well disposed towards that young man. I hope The indignation felt by Mr Pecksniff at this terrible disclosure,was only to be equalled by the kindling anger of hisit cannot be shown that he has forfeited all claim to my protection.Deceit—deceit, my dear Mr Chuzzlewit, would be daughters. What! Had they taken to their hearth and home afinal. I should hold myself bound, on proof of deceit, to secretly contracted serpent; a crocodile, who had made a furtiveoffer of his hand; an imposition on society; a bankruptrenounce him instantly.’The old man glanced at both his fair supporters, but especiallyat Miss Mercy, whom, indeed, he looked full in the false pretences! And oh, to think that he should have dis-bachelor with no effects, trading with the spinster world onface, with a greater demonstration of interest than had yet obeyed and practised on that sweet, that venerable gentleman,whose name he bore; that kind and tender guardian; hisappeared in his features. His gaze again encountered MrPecksniff, as he said, composedly:more than father—to say nothing at all of mother—horrible,‘Of course you know that he has made his matrimonial horrible! To turn him out with ignominy would be treatmentmuch too good. Was there nothing else that could bechoice?’‘Oh dear!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, rubbing his hair up very stiff done to him? Had he incurred no legal pains and penalties?upon his head, and staring wildly at his daughters. ‘This is Could it be that the statutes of the land were so remiss as tobecoming tremendous!’have affixed no punishment to such delinquency? Monster;‘You know the fact?’ repeated Martinhow basely had they been deceived!‘Surely not without his grandfather’s consent and approbationmy dear sir!’ cried Mr Pecksniff. ‘Don’t tell me that. For man holding up his hand to stay the torrent of their wrath.‘I am glad to find you second me so warmly,’ said the old‘I167

Martin Chuzzlewitwill not deny that it is a pleasure to me to find you so full of jealousies! Well! You have no cause for any, to be sure. She haszeal. We will consider that topic as disposed of.’nothing to gain from me, my dears, and she knows it.’‘No, my dear sir,’ cried Mr Pecksniff, ‘not as disposed of, The two Miss Pecksniffs murmured their approval of thisuntil I have purged my house of this pollution.’wise arrangement, and their cordial sympathy with its interestingobject.‘That will follow,’ said the old man, ‘in its own time. Ilook upon that as done.’‘If I could have anticipated what has come to pass between‘You are very good, sir,’ answered Mr Pecksniff, shaking his us four,’ said the old man thoughfully; ‘but it is too late tohand. ‘You do me honour. You may look upon it as done, I think of that. You would receive her courteously, young ladies,and be kind to her, if need were?’assure you.’‘There is another topic,’ said Martin, ‘on which I hope you Where was the orphan whom the two Miss Pecksniffs wouldwill assist me. You remember Mary, cousin?’not have cherished in their sisterly bosom! But when that‘The young lady that I mentioned to you, my dears, as orphan was commended to their care by one on whom thehaving interested me so very much,’ remarked Mr Pecksniff. dammed-up love of years was gushing forth, what exhaustlessstores of pure affection yearned to expend themselves upon‘Excuse my interrupting you, sir.’‘I told you her history?’ said the old man.her!‘Which I also mentioned, you will recollect, my dears,’ cried An interval ensued, during which Mr Chuzzlewit, in anMr Pecksniff. ‘Silly girls, Mr Chuzzlewit—quite moved by absent frame of mind, sat gazing at the ground, without utteringa word; and as it was plain that he had no desire to beit, they were!”‘Why, look now!’ said Martin, evidently pleased; ‘I feared I interrupted in his meditations, Mr Pecksniff and his daughterswere profoundly silent also. During the whole of the fore-should have had to urge her case upon you, and ask you toregard her favourably for my sake. But I find you have no going dialogue, he had borne his part with a cold, passionless168

Charles Dickenspromptitude, as though he had learned and painfully rehearsed such crooked deeds, such meannesses and vile endurances, asit all a hundred times. Even when his expressions were warmestand his language most encouraging, he had retained the live in. You can bear that?’nothing could repay; no, not the legacy of half the world wesame manner, without the least abatement. But now there Mr Pecksniff made reply that this would be also very hardwas a keener brightness in his eye, and more expression in his to bear, as reflecting, in some degree, on the discernment ofvoice, as he said, awakening from his thoughtful mood: Mr Chuzzlewit. Still he had a modest confidence that he could‘You know what will be said of this? Have you reflected?’ sustain the calumny, with the help of a good conscience, and‘Said of what, my dear sir?’ Mr Pecksniff asked.that gentleman’s friendship.‘Of this new understanding between us.’‘With the great mass of slanderers,’ said old Martin, leaningMr Pecksniff looked benevolently sagacious, and at the same back in his chair, ‘the tale, as I clearly foresee, will run thus:time far above all earthly misconstruction, as he shook his That to mark my contempt for the rabble whom I despised,head, and observed that a great many things would be said of I chose from among them the very worst, and made him doit, no doubt.my will, and pampered and enriched him at the cost of all the‘A great many,’ rejoined the old man. ‘Some will say that I rest. That, after casting about for the means of a punishmentdote in my old age; that illness has shaken me; that I have lost all which should rankle in the bosoms of these kites the most,strength of mind, and have grown childish. You can bear that?’ and strike into their gall, I devised this scheme at a time whenMr Pecksniff answered that it would be dreadfully hard to the last link in the chain of grateful love and duty, that heldbear, but he thought he could, if he made a great effort. me to my race, was roughly snapped asunder; roughly, for I‘Others will say—I speak of disappointed, angry people loved him well; roughly, for I had ever put my trust in hisonly—that you have lied and fawned, and wormed yourself affection; roughly, for that he broke it when I loved himthrough dirty ways into my favour; by such concessions and most—God help me!—and he without a pang could throw169

Martin Chuzzlewitme off, while I clung about his heart! Now,’ said the old The very time of all others that Mr Pecksniff would haveman, dismissing this passionate outburst as suddenly as he suggested if it had been left to him to make his own choice.had yielded to it, ‘is your mind made up to bear this likewise? As to his daughters—the words, ‘Let us be at home on Saturday,dear pa,’ were actually upon their lips.Lay your account with having it to bear, and put no trust inbeing set right by me.’‘Your expenses, cousin,’ said Martin, taking a folded slip of‘My dear Mr Chuzzlewit,’ cried Pecksniff in an ecstasy, ‘for paper from his pocketbook, ‘may possibly exceed thatsuch a man as you have shown yourself to be this day; for a amount. If so, let me know the balance that I owe you, whenman so injured, yet so very humane; for a man so—I am at a we next meet. It would be useless if I told you where I liveloss what precise term to use—yet at the same time so remarkably—Idon’t know how to express my meaning; for shall know it. You and your daughters may expect to see mejust now; indeed, I have no fixed abode. When I have, yousuch a man as I have described, I hope it is no presumption to before long; in the meantime I need not tell you that we keepsay that I, and I am sure I may add my children also (my our own confidence. What you will do when you get home isdears, we perfectly agree in this, I think?), would bear anythingwhatever!’and never refer to it in any way. I ask that as a favour. I amunderstood between us. Give me no account of it at any time;‘Enough,’ said Martin. ‘You can charge no consequences on commonly a man of few words, cousin; and all that need beme. When do you retire home?’said just now is said, I think.’‘Whenever you please, my dear sir. To-night if you desire ‘One glass of wine—one morsel of this homely cake?’ criedit.’Mr Pecksniff, venturing to detain him. ‘My dears—!’‘I desire nothing,’ returned the old man, ‘that is unreasonable.Such a request would be. Will you be ready to return at ‘Poor girls!’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘You will excuse their agita-The sisters flew to wait upon him.the end of this week?’tion, my dear sir. They are made up of feeling. A bad com-170

Charles Dickensmodity to go through the world with, Mr Chuzzlewit! My ment, if the partiality of a father may be excused in saying so.youngest daughter is almost as much of a woman as my eldest,is she not, sir?’to drink your health. Bless you!’A wonderful affection between them, my dear sir! Allow me‘Which is the youngest?’ asked the old man.‘I little thought,’ retorted Martin, ‘but a month ago, that I‘Mercy, by five years,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘We sometimes should be breaking bread and pouring wine with you. I drinkventure to consider her rather a fine figure, sir. Speaking as an to you.’artist, I may perhaps be permitted to suggest that its outline is Not at all abashed by the extraordinary abruptness withgraceful and correct. I am naturally,’ said Mr Pecksniff, dryinghis hands upon his handkerchief, and looking anxiously him devoutly.which these latter words were spoken, Mr Pecksniff thankedin his cousin’s face at almost every word, ‘proud, if I may use ‘Now let me go,’ said Martin, putting down the wine whenthe expression, to have a daughter who is constructed on the he had merely touched it with his lips. ‘My dears, good morning!’best models.’‘She seems to have a lively disposition,’ observed Martin. But this distant form of farewell was by no means tender‘Dear me!’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘That is quite remarkable. enough for the yearnings of the young ladies, who again embracedhim with all their hearts—with all their arms at anyYou have defined her character, my dear sir, as correctly as ifyou had known her from her birth. She HAS a lively disposition.I assure you, my dear sir, that in our unpretending home mitted with a better grace than might have been expectedrate—to which parting caresses their new-found friend sub-her gaiety is delightful.’from one who, not a moment before, had pledged their parentin such a very uncomfortable manner. These endearments‘No doubt,’ returned the old man.‘Charity, upon the other hand,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘is remarkablefor strong sense, and for rather a deep tone of sentidrew,followed to the door by both father andterminated, he took a hasty leave of Mr Pecksniff and with-daughters,171

Martin Chuzzlewitwho stood there kissing their hands and beaming with affectionuntil he disappeared; though, by the way, he never once of voices in dispute; and as it proceeded from the next room,tion. But at that juncture they were disturbed by the soundlooked back, after he had crossed the threshold.the subject matter of the altercation quickly reached their ears.When they returned into the house, and were again alone in ‘I don’t care that! Mrs Todgers,’ said the young gentlemanMrs Todgers’s room, the two young ladies exhibited an unusualamount of gaiety; insomuch that they clapped their day of the festival; ‘I don’t care that, ma’am,’ said he, snap-who had been the youngest gentleman in company on thehands, and laughed, and looked with roguish aspects and a ping his fingers, ‘for Jinkins. Don’t suppose I do.’bantering air upon their dear papa. This conduct was so very ‘I am quite certain you don’t, sir,’ replied Mrs Todgers. ‘Youunaccountable, that Mr Pecksniff (being singularly grave himself)could scarcely choose but ask them what it meant; and And quite right. There is no reason why you should give wayhave too independent a spirit, I know, to yield to anybody.took them to task, in his gentle manner, for yielding to such to any gentleman. Everybody must be well aware of that.’light emotions.‘I should think no more of admitting daylight into the fellow,’said the youngest gentleman, in a desperate voice, ‘than‘If it was possible to divine any cause for this merriment,even the most remote,’ he said, ‘I should not reprove you. if he was a bulldog.’But when you can have none whatever—oh, really, really!’ Mrs Todgers did not stop to inquire whether, as a matter ofThis admonition had so little effect on Mercy, that she was principle, there was any particular reason for admitting daylighteven into a bulldog, otherwise than by the natural chan-obliged to hold her handkerchief before her rosy lips, and tothrow herself back in her chair, with every demonstration of nel of his eyes, but she seemed to wring her hands, and sheextreme amusement; which want of duty so offended Mr moaned.Pecksniff that he reproved her in set terms, and gave her his ‘Let him be careful,’ said the youngest gentleman. ‘I giveparental advice to correct herself in solitude and contempla-him warning. No man shall step between me and the current172

Charles Dickensof my vengeance. I know a Cove—’ he used that familiar to shave more than once a week? But let him look out! He’llepithet in his agitation but corrected himself by adding, ‘a find himself shaved, pretty close, before long, and so I tellgentleman of property, I mean—who practices with a pair of him.’pistols (fellows too) of his own. If I am driven to borrow The young gentleman was mistaken in this closing sentence,‘em, and to send at friend to Jinkins, a tragedy will get into inasmuch as he never told it to Jinkins, but always to Mrsthe papers. That’s all.’Todgers.Again Mrs Todgers moaned.‘However,’ he said, ‘these are not proper subjects for ladies’‘I have borne this long enough,’ said the youngest gentlemanbut now my soul rebels against it, and I won’t stand it tice from next Saturday. The same house can’t contain thatears. All I’ve got to say to you, Mrs Todgers, is, a week’s no-any longer. I left home originally, because I had that within miscreant and me any longer. If we get over the intermediateme which wouldn’t be domineered over by a sister; and do time without bloodshed, you may think yourself pretty fortunate.I don’t myself expect we shall.’you think I’m going to be put down by him? No.’‘It is very wrong in Mr Jinkins; I know it is perfectly inexcusablein Mr Jinkins, if he intends it,’ observed Mrs Todgers to have prevented this? To lose you, sir, would be like losing‘Dear, dear!’ cried Mrs Todgers, ‘what would I have given‘If he intends it!’ cried the youngest gentleman. ‘Don’t he the house’s right-hand. So popular as you are among the gentlemen;so generally looked up to; and so much liked! I do hopeinterrupt and contradict me on every occasion? Does he everfail to interpose himself between me and anything or anybodythat he sees I have set my mind upon? Does he make a ‘There’s Jinkins,’ said the youngest gentleman, moodily.you’ll think better of it; if on nobody else’s account, on mine.’point of always pretending to forget me, when he’s pouring ‘Your favourite. He’ll console you, and the gentlemen too,out the beer? Does he make bragging remarks about his razors,and insulting allusions to people who have no necessity house. I never havefor the loss of twenty such as me. I’m not understood in thisbeen.’173

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Don’t run away with that opinion, sir!’ cried Mrs Todgers, The young gentleman was so much mollified by these andwith a show of honest indignation. ‘Don’t make such a charge similar speeches on the part of Mrs Todgers, that he and thatas that against the establishment, I must beg of you. It is not lady gradually changed positions; so that she became the injuredparty, and he was understood to be the injurer; but in aso bad as that comes to, sir. Make any remark you pleaseagainst the gentlemen, or against me; but don’t say you’re not complimentary, not in an offensive sense; his cruel conductunderstood in this house.’being attributable to his exalted nature, and to that alone. So,‘I’m not treated as if I was,’ said the youngest gentleman. in the end, the young gentleman withdrew his notice, and‘There you make a great mistake, sir,’ returned Mrs Todgers, assured Mrs Todgers of his unalterable regard; and having donein the same strain. ‘As many of the gentlemen and I have so, went back to business.often said, you are too sensitive. That’s where it is. You are of ‘Goodness me, Miss Pecksniffs!’ cried that lady, as she cametoo susceptible a nature; it’s in your spirit.’into the back room, and sat wearily down, with her basket onThe young gentleman coughed.her knees, and her hands folded upon it, ‘what a trial of temperit is to keep a house like this! You must have heard most‘And as,’ said Mrs Todgers, ‘as to Mr Jinkins, I must beg ofyou, if we are to part, to understand that I don’t abet Mr Jinkins of what has just passed. Now did you ever hear the like?’by any means. Far from it. I could wish that Mr Jinkins would ‘Never!’ said the two Miss Pecksniffs.take a lower tone in this establishment, and would not be the ‘Of all the ridiculous young fellows that ever I had to dealmeans of raising differences between me and gentlemen that I with,’ resumed Mrs Todgers, ‘that is the most ridiculous andcan much less bear to part with than I could with Mr Jinkins. unreasonable. Mr Jinkins is hard upon him sometimes, but notMr Jinkins is not such a boarder, sir,’ added Mrs Todgers, ‘that all half as hard as he deserves. To mention such a gentleman as Mrconsiderations of private feeling and respect give way before him. Jinkins in the same breath with him—you know it’s too much!Quite the contrary, I assure you.’And yet he’s as jealous of him, bless you, as if he was his equal.’174

Charles DickensThe young ladies were greatly entertained by Mrs Todgers’s ‘The profit!’ cried that gentleman, laying great stress uponaccount, no less than with certain anecdotes illustrative of the the word. ‘The profit, Mrs Todgers! You amaze me!’youngest gentleman’s character, which she went on to tell He was so severe, that Mrs Todgers shed tears.them. But Mr Pecksniff looked quite stern and angry; and ‘The profit!’ repeated Mr pecksniff. ‘The profit of dissimulation!To worship the golden calf of Baal, for eighteen shil-when she had concluded, said in a solemn voice:‘Pray, Mrs Todgers, if I may inquire, what does that young lings a week!’gentleman contribute towards the support of these premises?’ ‘Don’t in your own goodness be too hard upon me, Mr‘Why, sir, for what he has, he pays about eighteen shillings Pecksniff,’ cried Mrs Todgers, taking out her handkerchief.a week!’ said Mrs Todgers.‘Oh Calf, Calf!’ cried Mr Pecksniff mournfully. ‘Oh, Baal,‘Eighteen shillings a week!’ repeated Mr Pecksniff. Baal! oh my friend, Mrs Todgers! To barter away that preciousjewel, self-esteem, and cringe to any mortal creature—‘Taking one week with another; as near that as possible,’said Mrs Todgers.for eighteen shillings a week!’Mr Pecksniff rose from his chair, folded his arms, looked at He was so subdued and overcome by the reflection, that heher, and shook his head.immediately took down his hat from its peg in the passage,‘And do you mean to say, ma’am—is it possible, Mrs and went out for a walk, to compose his feelings. AnybodyTodgers—that for such a miserable consideration as eighteen passing him in the street might have known him for a goodshillings a week, a female of your understanding can so far man at first sight; for his whole figure teemed with a consciousnessof the moral homily he had read to Mrs Todgers.demean herself as to wear a double face, even for an instant?’‘I am forced to keep things on the square if I can, sir,’ faltered Mrs Eighteen shillings a week! Just, most just, thy censure, uprightPecksniff! Had it been for the sake of a ribbon, star, orTodgers. ‘I must preserve peace among them, and keep my connectiontogether, if possible, Mr Pecksniff. The profit is very small.’ garter; sleeves of lawn, a great man’s smile, a seat in parlia-175

Martin Chuzzlewitment, a tap upon the shoulder from a courtly sword; a place, pressed a hope, preliminary and pious, that he might be blest,a party, or a thriving lie, or eighteen thousand pounds, or gave her in his pleasant way to understand that a visitor attendedto pay his respects to her, and was at that momenteven eighteen hundred;—but to worship the golden calf foreighteen shillings a week! oh pitiful, pitiful!waiting in the drawing-room. Perhaps this last announcementshowed in a more striking point of view than many lengthenedspeeches could have done, the trustfulness and faith ofCHAPTER ELEVENBailey’s nature; since he had, in fact, last seen the visitor onthe door-mat, where, after signifying to him that he wouldWHEREIN A CERTAIN GENTLEMAN BEdowell to go upstairs, he had left him to the guidance of hisCOMESown sagacity. Hence it was at least an even chance that thePARTICULAR IN HIS ATTENTIONS TO Avisitor was then wandering on the roof of the house, or vainlyCERTAIN LADY; AND MORE COMINGseeking to extricate himself from the maze of bedrooms;EVENTS THAN ONE, CAST THEIR SHAD-Todgers’s being precisely that kind of establishment in whichOWS BEFOREan unpiloted stranger is pretty sure to find himself in someplace where he least expects and least desires to be.THE FAMILY WERE within two or three days of their departure‘A gentleman for me!’ cried Charity, pausing in her work;from Mrs Todgers’s, and the commercial gentlemen were to a‘my gracious, Bailey!’man despondent and not to be comforted, because of the‘Ah!’ said Bailey. ‘It is my gracious, an’t it? Wouldn’t I beapproaching separation, when Bailey junior, at the jocund timegracious neither, not if I wos him!’of noon, presented himself before Miss Charity Pecksniff,The remark was rendered somewhat obscure in itself, by reason(as the reader may have observed) of a redundancy of nega-then sitting with her sister in the banquet chamber, hemmingsix new pocket-handkerchiefs for Mr Jinkins; and having ex-176

Charles Dickenstives; but accompanied by action expressive of a faithful couple ness, that it was, no doubt, very strange indeed; and that shewalking arm-in-arm towards a parochial church, mutually exchanginglooks of love, it clearly signified this youth’s convic-unknown could mean by it.was totally at a loss to conceive what the ridiculous persontion that the caller’s purpose was of an amorous tendency. Miss ‘Quite impossible to divine!’ said Charity, with some sharpness,‘though still, at the same time, you needn’t be angry, myCharity affected to reprove so great a liberty; but she could nothelp smiling. He was a strange boy, to be sure. There was alwayssome ground of probability and likelihood mingled with ‘Thank you,’ retorted Merry, singing at her needle. ‘I amdear.’his absurd behaviour. That was the best of it!quite aware of that, my love.’‘But I don’t know any gentlemen, Bailey,’ said Miss ‘I am afraid your head is turned, you silly thing,’ said Cherry.Pecksniff. ‘I think you must have made a mistake.’‘Do you know, my dear,’ said Merry, with engaging candour,Mr Bailey smiled at the extreme wildness of such a supposition,and regarded the young ladies with unimpaired affa-incense and nonsense, and all the rest of it, is enough to turn‘that I have been afraid of that, myself, all along! So muchbility.a stronger head than mine. What a relief it must be to you,‘My dear Merry,’ said Charity, ‘who can it be? Isn’t it odd? my dear, to be so very comfortable in that respect, and not toI have a great mind not to go to him really. So very strange, be worried by those odious men! How do you do it, Cherry?’you know!’This artless inquiry might have led to turbulent results, butThe younger sister plainly considered that this appeal had for the strong emotions of delight evinced by Bailey junior,its origin in the pride of being called upon and asked for; and whose relish in the turn the conversation had lately taken wasthat it was intended as an assertion of superiority, and a retaliationupon her for having captured the commercial gentle-performance of a dancing step, extremely difficult in its na-so acute, that it impelled and forced him to the instantaneousmen. Therefore, she replied, with great affection and politeture,and only to be achieved in a moment of ecstasy, which is177

Martin Chuzzlewitcommonly called The Frog’s Hornpipe. A manifestation so ‘That’s right,’ said Mr Jonas, ‘and you’ve got over the fatiguesof the journey have you? I say. How’s the other one?’lively, brought to their immediate recollection the great virtuousprecept, ‘Keep up appearances whatever you do,’ in ‘My sister is very well, I believe,’ returned the young lady. ‘Iwhich they had been educated. They forbore at once, and have not heard her complain of any indisposition, sir. Perhapsjointly signified to Mr Bailey that if he should presume to you would like to see her, and ask her yourself?’practice that figure any more in their presence, they would ‘No, no cousin!’ said Mr Jonas, sitting down beside her oninstantly acquaint Mrs Todgers with the fact, and would demandhis condign punishment, at the hands of that lady. The for that, you know. What a cruel girl you are!’the window-seat. ‘Don’t be in a hurry. There’s no occasionyoung gentleman having expressed the bitterness of his contritionby affecting to wipe away scalding tears with his apron, ‘Well, perhaps it is,’ said Mr Jonas. ‘I say—Did you think I‘It’s impossible for you to know,’ said Cherry, ‘whether I am or not.’and afterwards feigning to wring a vast amount of water from was lost? You haven’t told me that.’that garment, held the door open while Miss Charity passed ‘I didn’t think at all about it,’ answered Cherry.out; and so that damsel went in state upstairs to receive her ‘Didn’t you though?’ said Jonas, pondering upon thismysterious adorer.strange reply. ‘Did the other one?’By some strange occurrence of favourable circumstances he ‘I am sure it’s impossible for me to say what my sister may,had found out the drawing-room, and was sitting there alone. or may not have thought on such a subject,’ cried Cherry.‘Ah, cousin!’ he said. ‘Here I am, you see. You thought I ‘She never said anything to me about it, one way or other.’was lost, I’ll be bound. Well! how do you find yourself by ‘Didn’t she laugh about it?’ inquired Jonas.this time?’‘No. She didn’t even laugh about it,’ answered Charity.Miss Charity replied that she was quite well, and gave Mr ‘She’s a terrible one to laugh, an’t she?’ said Jonas, loweringJonas Chuzzlewit her hand.his voice.178

Charles Dickens‘She is very lively,’ said Cherry.‘Old, no doubt,’ replied Miss Charity; ‘but a fine old gentleman.’‘Liveliness is a pleasant thing—when it don’t lead to spendingmoney. An’t it?’ asked Mr Jonas.‘A fine old gentleman!’ repeated Jonas, giving the crown of‘Very much so, indeed,’ said Cherry, with a demureness of his hat an angry knock. ‘Ah! It’s time he was thinking of beingdrawn out a little finer too. Why, he’s eighty!’manner that gave a very disinterested character to her assent.‘Such liveliness as yours I mean, you know,’ observed Mr ‘Is he, indeed?’ said the young lady.Jonas, as he nudged her with his elbow. ‘I should have come ‘And ecod,’ cried Jonas, ‘now he’s gone so far without givingin, I don’t see much to prevent his being ninety; no, norto see you before, but I didn’t know where you was. Howquick you hurried off, that morning!’even a hundred. Why, a man with any feeling ought to be‘I was amenable to my papa’s directions,’ said Miss Charity. ashamed of being eighty, let alone more. Where’s his religion,‘I wish he had given me his direction,’ returned her cousin, I should like to know, when he goes flying in the face of the‘and then I should have found you out before. Why, I shouldn’t Bible like that? Threescore-and-ten’s the mark, and no manhave found you even now, if I hadn’t met him in the street this with a conscience, and a proper sense of what’s expected ofmorning. What a sleek, sly chap he is! Just like a tomcat, an’t he?’ him, has any business to live longer.’‘I must trouble you to have the goodness to speak more Is any one surprised at Mr Jonas making such a reference torespectfully of my papa, Mr Jonas,’ said Charity. ‘I can’t allowsuch a tone as that, even in jest.’saw, that the Devil (being a layman) quotes Scripture for hissuch a book for such a purpose? Does any one doubt the old‘Ecod, you may say what you like of my father, then, and so own ends? If he will take the trouble to look about him, heI give you leave,’ said Jonas. ‘I think it’s liquid aggravation may find a greater number of confirmations of the fact in thethat circulates through his veins, and not regular blood. How occurrences of any single day, than the steam-gun can dischargeballs in a old should you think my father was, cousin?’minute.179

Martin Chuzzlewit‘But there’s enough of my father,’ said Jonas; ‘it’s of no use ‘You don’t mean that,’ cried Mr Jonas. ‘You can’t, you know.to go putting one’s self out of the way by talking about him. It isn’t possible.’I called to ask you to come and take a walk, cousin, and see ‘You can have what opinion you like, fright,’ retorted Mercy.some of the sights; and to come to our house afterwards, and ‘I am content to keep mine; and mine is that you are a veryhave a bit of something. Pecksniff will most likely look in in unpleasant, odious, disagreeable person.’ Here she laughedthe evening, he says, and bring you home. See, here’s his writing;I made him put it down this morning when he told me ‘Oh, you’re a sharp gal!’ said Mr Jonas. ‘She’s a regular teaser,heartily, and seemed to enjoy herself very much.he shouldn’t be back before I came here; in case you wouldn’t an’t she, cousin?’believe me. There’s nothing like proof, is there? Ha, ha! I Miss Charity replied in effect, that she was unable to saysay—you’ll bring the other one, you know!’what the habits and propensities of a regular teaser might be;Miss Charity cast her eyes upon her father’s autograph, and that even if she possessed such information, it would illwhich merely said—’Go, my children, with your cousin. Let become her to admit the existence of any creature with such anthere be union among us when it is possible;’ and after enough unceremonious name in her family; far less in the person of aof hesitation to impart a proper value to her consent, withdrewto prepare her sister and herself for the excursion. She ‘whatever her real nature may be.’beloved sister; ‘whatever,’ added Cherry with an angry glance,soon returned, accompanied by Miss Mercy, who was by no ‘Well, my dear,’ said Merry, ‘the only observation I have tomeans pleased to leave the brilliant triumphs of Todgers’s for make is, that if we don’t go out at once, I shall certainly takethe society of Mr Jonas and his respected father.my bonnet off again, and stay at home.’‘Aha!’ cried Jonas. ‘There you are, are you?’This threat had the desired effect of preventing any farther‘Yes, fright,’ said Mercy, ‘here I am; and I would much altercation, for Mr Jonas immediately proposed an adjournment,and the same being carried unanimously, they rather be anywhere else, I assure you.’departed180

Charles Dickensfrom the house straightway. On the doorstep, Mr Jonas gave description entertained, observing that ‘they must be nice flats,an arm to each cousin; which act of gallantry being observed certainly;’ and often in the course of the walk, bursting outby Bailey junior, from the garret window, was by him saluted again into a perfect convulsion of laughter at the surpassingwith a loud and violent fit of coughing, to which paroxysm silliness of those gentlemen, and (doubtless) at his own superiorwisdom.he was still the victim when they turned the corner.Mr Jonas inquired in the first instance if they were good When they had been out for some hours and were thoroughlyfatigued, it being by that time twilight, Mr Jonas in-walkers and being answered, ‘Yes,’ submitted their pedestrianpowers to a pretty severe test; for he showed them as many timated that he would show them one of the best pieces ofsights, in the way of bridges, churches, streets, outsides of fun with which he was acquainted. This joke was of a practicalkind, and its humour lay in taking a hackney-coach to thetheatres, and other free spectacles, in that one forenoon, asmost people see in a twelvemonth. It was observable in this extreme limits of possibility for a shilling. Happily it broughtgentleman, that he had an insurmountable distaste to the insidesof buildings, and that he was perfectly acquainted with might have rather missed the point and cream of the jest.them to the place where Mr Jonas dwelt, or the young ladiesthe merits of all shows, in respect of which there was any The old-established firm of Anthony Chuzzlewit and Son,charge for admission, which it seemed were every one detestable,and of the very lowest grade of merit. He was so thor-business in a very narrow street somewhere behind the PostManchester Warehousemen, and so forth, had its place ofoughly possessed with this opinion, that when Miss Charity Office; where every house was in the brightest summer morningvery gloomy; and where light porters watered the pave-happened to mention the circumstance of their having beentwice or thrice to the theatre with Mr Jinkins and party, he ment, each before his own employer’s premises, in fantasticinquired, as a matter of course, ‘where the orders came from?’ patterns, in the dog-days; and where spruce gentlemen withand being told that Mr Jinkins and party paid, was beyond their hands in the pockets of symmetrical trousers, were al-181

Martin Chuzzlewitways to be seen in warm weather, contemplating their undeniableboots in dusty warehouse doorways; which appeared great monster of a desk straddling over the middle of the floor,more counting-house stools in it than chairs; not to mention ato be the hardest work they did, except now and then carryingpens behind their ears. A dim, dirty, smoky, tumble-down, solitary little table for purposes of refection and social enjoy-and an iron safe sunk into the wall above the fireplace. Therotten old house it was, as anybody would desire to see; but ment, bore as fair a proportion to the desk and other businessthere the firm of Anthony Chuzzlewit and Son transacted all furniture, as the graces and harmless relaxations of life had evertheir business and their pleasure too, such as it was; for neitherthe young man nor the old had any other residence, or suit of wealth. It was meanly laid out now for dinner; and in adone, in the persons of the old man and his son, to their pur-any care or thought beyond its narrow limits.chair before the fire sat Anthony himself, who rose to greet hisBusiness, as may be readily supposed, was the main thing in son and his fair cousins as they entered.this establishment; insomuch indeed that it shouldered comfortout of doors, and jostled the domestic arrangements at find old heads upon young shoulders; to which it may beAn ancient proverb warns us that we should not expect toevery turn. Thus in the miserable bedrooms there were files of added that we seldom meet with that unnatural combination,but we feel a strong desire to knock them off; merelymoth-eaten letters hanging up against the walls; and linen rollers,and fragments of old patterns, and odds and ends of spoiled from an inherent love we have of seeing things in their rightgoods, strewed upon the ground; while the meagre bedsteads, places. It is not improbable that many men, in no wise cholericby nature, felt this impulse rising up within them, whenwashing-stands, and scraps of carpet, were huddled away intocorners as objects of secondary consideration, not to be thought they first made the acquaintance of Mr Jonas; but if they hadof but as disagreeable necessities, furnishing no profit, and intrudingon the one affair of life. The single sitting-room was with him at his own board, it would assuredly have beenknown him more intimately in his own house, and had saton the same principle, a chaos of boxes and old papers, and had paramount to all other considerations.182

Charles Dickens‘Well, ghost!’ said Mr Jonas, dutifully addressing his parent she gets home, won’t she? Here; you sit on the right side ofby that title. ‘Is dinner nearly ready?’me, and I’ll have her upon the left. Other one, will you come‘I should think it was,’ rejoined the old man.here?’‘What’s the good of that?’ rejoined the son. ‘I should think ‘You’re such a fright,’ replied Mercy, ‘that I know I shallit was. I want to know.’have no appetite if I sit so near you; but I suppose I must.’‘Ah! I don’t know for certain,’ said Anthony.‘An’t she lively?’ whispered Mr Jonas to the elder sister, with‘You don’t know for certain,’ rejoined his son in a lower his favourite elbow emphasis.tone. ‘No. You don’t know anything for certain, YOU don’t. ‘Oh I really don’t know!’ replied Miss Pecksniff, tartly. ‘IGive me your candle here. I want it for the gals.’am tired of being asked such ridiculous questions.’Anthony handed him a battered old office candlestick, with ‘What’s that precious old father of mine about now?’ saidwhich Mr Jonas preceded the young ladies to the nearest bedroom,where he left them to take off their shawls and bon-the room instead of taking his seat at table. ‘What are youMr Jonas, seeing that his parent was travelling up and downnets; and returning, occupied himself in opening a bottle of looking for?’wine, sharpening the carving-knife, and muttering complimentsto his father, until they and the dinner appeared to-‘Sit down without your glasses, can’t you?’ returned his son.‘I’ve lost my glasses, Jonas,’ said old Anthony.gether. The repast consisted of a hot leg of mutton with greens ‘You don’t eat or drink out of ‘em, I think; and where’s thatand potatoes; and the dishes having been set upon the table sleepy-headed old Chuffey got to! Now, stupid. Oh! you knowby a slipshod old woman, they were left to enjoy it after their your name, do you?’own manner.It would seem that he didn’t, for he didn’t come until the‘Bachelor’s Hall, you know, cousin,’ said Mr Jonas to Charity.‘I say—the other one will be having a laugh at this when which was partitioned off from the rest of the room,father called. As he spoke, the door of a small glass office,was183

Martin Chuzzlewitslowly opened, and a little blear-eyed, weazen-faced, ancient ‘Is he deaf?’ inquired one of the young ladies.man came creeping out. He was of a remote fashion, and ‘No, I don’t know that he is. He an’t deaf, is he, father?’dusty, like the rest of the furniture; he was dressed in a decayedsuit of black; with breeches garnished at the knees with ‘Blind?’ inquired the young ladies.‘I never heard him say he was,’ replied the old man.rusty wisps of ribbon, the very paupers of shoestrings; on the ‘N—no. I never understood that he was at all blind,’ saidlower portion of his spindle legs were dingy worsted stockingsof the same colour. He looked as if he had been put away ‘Certainly not,’ replied Anthony.Jonas, carelessly. ‘You don’t consider him so, do you, father?’and forgotten half a century before, and somebody had just ‘What is he, then?’found him in a lumber-closet.‘Why, I’ll tell you what he is,’ said Mr Jonas, apart to theSuch as he was, he came slowly creeping on towards the young ladies, ‘he’s precious old, for one thing; and I an’t besttable, until at last he crept into the vacant chair, from which, pleased with him for that, for I think my father must haveas his dim faculties became conscious of the presence of strangers,and those strangers ladies, he rose again, apparently in-added in a louder voice, ‘and don’t understand any one hardly,caught it of him. He’s a strange old chap, for another,’ hetending to make a bow. But he sat down once more without but him!’ He pointed to his honoured parent with the carving-fork,in order that they might know whom he meant.having made it, and breathing on his shrivelled hands to warmthem, remained with his poor blue nose immovable above ‘How very strange!’ cried the sisters.his plate, looking at nothing, with eyes that saw nothing, and ‘Why, you see,’ said Mr Jonas, ‘he’s been addling his olda face that meant nothing. Take him in that state, and he was brains with figures and book-keeping all his life; and twentyan embodiment of nothing. Nothing else.years ago or so he went and took a fever. All the time he was‘Our clerk,’ said Mr Jonas, as host and master of the ceremonies:‘Old Chuffey.’casting up; and he got to so many million at last that Iout of his head (which was three weeks) he never left offdon’t184

Charles Dickensbelieve he’s ever been quite right since. We don’t do much ‘Are you ready for your dinner, Chuffey?’ asked the old manbusiness now though, and he an’t a bad clerk.’‘Yes, yes,’ said Chuffey, lighting up into a sentient human‘A very good one,’ said Anthony.creature at the first sound of the voice, so that it was at once a‘Well! He an’t a dear one at all events,’ observed Jonas; ‘and curious and quite a moving sight to see him. ‘Yes, yes. Quitehe earns his salt, which is enough for our look-out. I was telling ready, Mr Chuzzlewit. Quite ready, sir. All ready, all ready, allyou that he hardly understands any one except my father; he ready.’ With that he stopped, smilingly, and listened for somealways understands him, though, and wakes up quite wonderful.He’s been used to his ways so long, you see! Why, I’ve seen sook his face by little and little, until he was nothing again.further address; but being spoken to no more, the light for-him play whist, with my father for a partner; and a good rubbertoo; when he had no more notion what sort of people he his cousins as he handed the old man’s portion to his father.‘He’ll be very disagreeable, mind,’ said Jonas, addressingwas playing against, than you have.’‘He always chokes himself when it an’t broth. Look at him,‘Has he no appetite?’ asked Merry.now! Did you ever see a horse with such a wall-eyed expressionas he’s got? If it hadn’t been for the joke of it I wouldn’t‘Oh, yes,’ said Jonas, plying his own knife and fork veryfast. ‘He eats—when he’s helped. But he don’t care whether have let him come in to-day; but I thought he’d amuse you.’he waits a minute or an hour, as long as father’s here; so when The poor old subject of this humane speech was, happily forI’m at all sharp set, as I am to-day, I come to him after I’ve himself, as unconscious of its purport as of most other remarkstaken the edge off my own hunger, you know. Now, Chuffey, that were made in his presence. But the mutton being tough,stupid, are you ready?’and his gums weak, he quickly verified the statement relativeChuffey remained immovable.to his choking propensities, and underwent so much in his‘Always a perverse old file, he was,’ said Mr Jonas, coolly attempts to dine, that Mr Jonas was infinitely amused; protestingthat he had seldom seen him better company in all his helping himself to another slice. ‘Ask him, father.’life,185

Martin Chuzzlewitand that he was enough to make a man split his sides with Chuffey boggled over his plate so long, that Mr Jones, losingpatience, took it from him at last with his own hands,laughing. Indeed, he went so far as to assure the sisters, that inthis point of view he considered Chuffey superior to his own and requested his father to signify to that venerable personfather; which, as he significantly added, was saying a great deal. that he had better ‘peg away at his bread;’ which AnthonyIt was strange enough that Anthony Chuzzlewit, himself so did.old a man, should take a pleasure in these gibings of his estimableson at the expense of the poor shadow at their table. this was communicated to him in the same voice, ‘quite right,‘Aye, aye!’ cried the old man, brightening up as before, whenBut he did, unquestionably; though not so much—to do quite right. He’s your own son, Mr Chuzzlewit! Bless himhim justice—with reference to their ancient clerk, as in exultationat the sharpness of Jonas. For the same reason that Mr Jonas considered this so particularly childish (perhapsfor a sharp lad! Bless him, bless him!’young man’s coarse allusions, even to himself, filled him with with some reason), that he only laughed the more, and tolda stealthy glee; causing him to rub his hands and chuckle covertly,as if he said in his sleeve, ‘I taught him. I trained him. would be the death of him. The cloth was then removed, andhis cousins that he was afraid one of these fine days, ChuffeyThis is the heir of my bringing-up. Sly, cunning, and covetous,he’ll not squander my money. I worked for this; I hoped filled the young ladies’ glasses, calling on them not to spare it,the bottle of wine set upon the table, from which Mr Jonasfor this; it has been the great end and aim of my life.’ as they might be certain there was plenty more where thatWhat a noble end and aim it was to contemplate in the came from. But he added with some haste after this sally thatattainment truly! But there be some who manufacture idols it was only his joke, and they wouldn’t suppose him to be inafter the fashion of themselves, and fail to worship them when earnest, he was sure.they are made; charging their deformity on outraged nature. ‘I shall drink,’ said Anthony, ‘to Pecksniff. Your father, myAnthony was better than these at any rate.dears. A clever man, Pecksniff. A wary man! A hypocrite,186

Charles Dickensthough, eh? A hypocrite, girls, eh? Ha, ha, ha! Well, so he is. Mr Jonas made no verbal rejoinder, but he glanced at MercyNow, among friends, he is. I don’t think the worse of him for with an odd expression in his face; and said that wouldn’tthat, unless it is that he overdoes it. You may overdo anything,my darlings. You may overdo even hypocrisy. Ask on Charity with even greater favour than before, and besoughtbreak his heart, she might depend upon it. Then he lookedJonas!’her, as his polite manner was, to ‘come a little closer.’‘You can’t overdo taking care of yourself,’ observed that ‘There’s another thing that’s not easily overdone, father,’hopeful gentleman with his mouth full.remarked Jonas, after a short silence.‘Do you hear that, my dears?’ cried Anthony, quite enraptured.‘Wisdom, wisdom! A good exception, Jonas. No. It’s tion.‘What’s that?’ asked the father; grinning already in anticipa-not easy to overdo that.’‘A bargain,’ said the son. ‘Here’s the rule for bargains—”Do‘Except,’ whispered Mr Jonas to his favourite cousin, ‘exceptwhen one lives too long. Ha, ha! Tell the other one that— precept. All others are counterfeits.’other men, for they would do you.” That’s the true businessI say!’The delighted father applauded this sentiment to the echo;‘Good gracious me!’ said Cherry, in a petulant manner. ‘You and was so much tickled by it, that he was at the pains ofcan tell her yourself, if you wish, can’t you?’imparting the same to his ancient clerk, who rubbed his hands,‘She seems to make such game of one,’ replied Mr Jonas. nodded his palsied head, winked his watery eyes, and cried in‘Then why need you trouble yourself about her?’ said Charity.‘I am sure she doesn’t trouble herself much about you.’ Chuzzlewit’ with every feeble demonstration of delight thathis whistling tones, ‘Good! good! Your own son, Mr‘Don’t she though?’ asked Jonas.he was capable of making. But this old man’s enthusiasm had‘Good gracious me, need I tell you that she don’t?’ returned the redeeming quality of being felt in sympathy with the onlythe young lady.creature to whom he was linked by ties of long association,187

Martin Chuzzlewitand by his present helplessness. And if there had been anybodythere, who cared to think about it, some dregs of a theirs, that she silently deplored the commercial gentlemen—tainment of the evening to be so distinctly and exclusivelybetter nature unawakened, might perhaps have been descried at that moment, no doubt, wearying for her return—andthrough that very medium, melancholy though it was, yet yawned over yesterday’s newspaper. As to Anthony, he wentlingering at the bottom of the worn-out cask called Chuffey. to sleep outright, so Jonas and Cherry had a clear stage toAs matters stood, nobody thought or said anything upon themselves as long as they chose to keep possession of it.the subject; so Chuffey fell back into a dark corner on one When the tea-tray was taken away, as it was at last, Mr Jonasside of the fireplace, where he always spent his evenings, and produced a dirty pack of cards, and entertained the sisters withwas neither seen nor heard again that night; save once, when a divers small feats of dexterity: whereof the main purpose ofcup of tea was given him, in which he was seen to soak his every one was, that you were to decoy somebody into laying abread mechanically. There was no reason to suppose that he wager with you that you couldn’t do it; and were then immediatelyto win and pocket his money. Mr Jonas informed themwent to sleep at these seasons, or that he heard, or saw, or felt,or thought. He remained, as it were, frozen up—if any term that these accomplishments were in high vogue in the mostexpressive of such a vigorous process can be applied to him— intellectual circles, and that large amounts were constantly changinghands on such hazards. And it may be remarked that heuntil he was again thawed for the moment by a word or touchfrom Anthony.fully believed this; for there is a simplicity of cunning no lessMiss Charity made tea by desire of Mr Jonas, and felt and than a simplicity of innocence; and in all matters where a livelylooked so like the lady of the house that she was in the prettiestconfusion imaginable; the more so from Mr Jonas sit-of belief, Mr Jonas was one of the most credulous of men. Hisfaith in knavery and meanness was required as the ground-workting close beside her, and whispering a variety of admiring ignorance, which was stupendous, may be taken into account,expressions in her ear. Miss Mercy, for her part, felt the enter-if the reader pleases, separately.188

Charles DickensThis fine young man had all the inclination to be a profligateof the first water, and only lacked the one good trait in ride; and that for his part he was quite of their opinion.marking that he knew they would rather walk thither thanthe common catalogue of debauched vices—open-handedness—tobe a notable vagabond. But there his griping and to—ha, ha, ha!—to Pecksniff. Take care of your cousin, my‘Good night,’ said Anthony. ‘Good night; remember mepenurious habits stepped in; and as one poison will sometimesneutralise another, when wholesome remedies would for him, in any case!’dears; beware of Jonas; he’s a dangerous fellow. Don’t quarrelnot avail, so he was restrained by a bad passion from quaffing ‘Oh, the creature!’ cried Mercy. ‘The idea of quarrelling forhis full measure of evil, when virtue might have sought to HIM! You may take him, Cherry, my love, all to yourself. Ihold him back in vain.make you a present of my share.’By the time he had unfolded all the peddling schemes he ‘What! I’m a sour grape, am I, cousin?’ said Jonas.knew upon the cards, it was growing late in the evening; and Miss Charity was more entertained by this repartee thanMr Pecksniff not making his appearance, the young ladies one would have supposed likely, considering its advanced ageexpressed a wish to return home. But this, Mr Jonas, in his and simple character. But in her sisterly affection she took Mrgallantry, would by no means allow, until they had partaken Jonas to task for leaning so very hard upon a broken reed, andof some bread and cheese and porter; and even then he was said that he must not be so cruel to poor Merry any more, orexcessively unwilling to allow them to depart; often beseechingMiss Charity to come a little closer, or to stop a little who really had her share of good humour, only retorted withshe (Charity) would positively be obliged to hate him. Mercy,longer, and preferring many other complimentary petitions a laugh; and they walked home in consequence without anyof that nature in his own hospitable and earnest way. When angry passages of words upon the way. Mr Jonas being in theall his efforts to detain them were fruitless, he put on his hat middle, and having a cousin on each arm, sometimes squeezedand greatcoat preparatory to escorting them to Todgers’s; re-the wrong one; so tightly too, as to cause her not a little in-189

Martin Chuzzlewitconvenience; but as he talked to Charity in whispers the whole for weeks to come. You have a great deal to answer for, bothtime, and paid her great attention, no doubt this was an accidentalcircumstance. When they arrived at Todgers’s, and the They modestly disclaimed any wilful agency in this disas-of you.’door was opened, Mercy broke hastily from them, and ran trous state of things, and regretted it very much.upstairs; but Charity and Jonas lingered on the steps talking ‘Your pious pa, too,’ said Mrs Todgers. ‘There’s a loss! Mytogether for more than five minutes; so, as Mrs Todgers observednext morning, to a third party, ‘It was pretty clear what and love.’dear Miss Pecksniffs, your pa is a perfect missionary of peacewas going on there, and she was glad of it, for it really was Entertaining an uncertainty as to the particular kind of lovehigh time that Miss Pecksniff thought of settling.’supposed to be comprised in Mr Pecksniff’s mission, theAnd now the day was coming on, when that bright vision young ladies received the compliment rather coldly.which had burst on Todgers’s so suddenly, and made a sunshinein the shady breast of Jinkins, was to be seen no more; confidence which has been reposed in me, and to tell you‘If I dared,’ said Mrs Todgers, perceiving this, ‘to violate awhen it was to be packed, like a brown paper parcel, or a fishbasket,or an oyster barrel or a fat gentleman, or any other room and mine open tonight, I think you would be inter-why I must beg of you to leave the little door between yourdull reality of life, in a stagecoach and carried down into the ested. But I mustn’t do it, for I promised Mr Jinkins faithfully,that I would be as silent as the tomb.’country.‘Never, my dear Miss Pecksniffs,’ said Mrs Todgers, when ‘Dear Mrs Todgers! What can you mean?’they retired to rest on the last night of their stay, ‘never have I ‘Why, then, my sweet Miss Pecksniffs,’ said the lady of theseen an establishment so perfectly broken-hearted as mine is house; ‘my own loves, if you will allow me the privilege ofat this present moment of time. I don’t believe the gentlemen taking that freedom on the eve of our separation, Mr Jinkinswill be the gentlemen they were, or anything like it—no, not and the gentlemen have made up a little musical party among190

Charles Dickensthemselves, and do intend, in the dead of this night, to performa serenade upon the stairs outside the door. I could have ous combustion, and the serenade had been in honour of theirMiss Pecksniffs and Mrs Todgers had perished by spontane-wished, I own,’ said Mrs Todgers, with her usual foresight, ashes, it would have been impossible to surpass the unutterabledespair expressed in that one chorus, ‘Go where glory‘that it had been fixed to take place an hour or two earlier;because when gentlemen sit up late they drink, and when waits thee!’ It was a requiem, a dirge, a moan, a howl, a wail,they drink they’re not so musical, perhaps, as when they don’t. a lament, an abstract of everything that is sorrowful and hideousin sound. The flute of the youngest gentleman was wildBut this is the arrangement; and I know you will be gratified,my dear Miss Pecksniffs, by such a mark of their attention.’ and fitful. It came and went in gusts, like the wind. For aThe young ladies were at first so much excited by the news, long time together he seemed to have left off, and when itthat they vowed they couldn’t think of going to bed until the was quite settled by Mrs Todgers and the young ladies that,serenade was over. But half an hour of cool waiting so altered overcome by his feelings, he had retired in tears, he unexpectedlyturned up again at the very top of the tune, gasping fortheir opinion that they not only went to bed, but fell asleep;and were, moreover, not ecstatically charmed to be awakened breath. He was a tremendous performer. There was no knowingwhere to have him; and exactly when you thought he wassome time afterwards by certain dulcet strains breaking inupon the silent watches of the night.doing nothing at all, then was he doing the very thing thatIt was very affecting—very. Nothing more dismal could ought to astonish you most.have been desired by the most fastidious taste. The gentlemanof a vocal turn was head mute, or chief mourner; Jinkins or three too many, though that, as Mrs Todgers said, was aThere were several of these concerted pieces; perhaps twotook the bass; and the rest took anything they could get. The fault on the right side. But even then, even at that solemnyoungest gentleman blew his melancholy into a flute. He didn’t moment, when the thrilling sounds may be presumed to haveblow much out of it, but that was all the better. If the two penetrated into the very depths of his nature, if he had any191

Martin Chuzzlewitdepths, Jinkins couldn’t leave the youngest gentleman alone. related to Rule Britannia, and that if Great Britain hadn’t beenHe asked him distinctly, before the second song began—as a an island, there could have been no Miss Pecksniffs. And beingnow on a nautical tack, it closed with this verse:personal favour too, mark the villain in that—not to play.Yes; he said so; not to play. The breathing of the youngestgentleman was heard through the key-hole of the door. He ‘All hail to the vessel of Pecksniff the sire! And favouringdidn’t play. What vent was a flute for the passions swelling up breezes to fan;within his breast? A trombone would have been a world too While Tritons flock round it, and proudly admire The architect,artist, and man!’mild.The serenade approached its close. Its crowning interest wasat hand. The gentleman of a literary turn had written a song As they presented this beautiful picture to the imagination,on the departure of the ladies, and adapted it to an old tune. the gentlemen gradually withdrew to bed to give the musicThey all joined, except the youngest gentleman in company, the effect of distance; and so it died away, and Todgers’s waswho, for the reasons aforesaid, maintained a fearful silence. left to its repose.The song (which was of a classical nature) invoked the oracle Mr Bailey reserved his vocal offering until the morning,of Apollo, and demanded to know what would become of when he put his head into the room as the young ladies wereTodgers’s when charity and mercy were banished from its kneeling before their trunks, packing up, and treated them towalls. The oracle delivered no opinion particularly worth remembering,according to the not infrequent practice of oracles stances; when that animal is supposed by persons of a livelyan imitation of the voice of a young dog in trying circum-from the earliest ages down to the present time. In the absenceof enlightenment on that subject, the strain deserted it, ‘Well, young ladies,’ said the youth, ‘so you’re a-going home,fancy, to relieve his feelings by calling for pen and ink.and went on to show that the Miss Pecksniffs were nearly are you, worse luck?’192

Charles Dickens‘Yes, Bailey, we’re going home,’ returned Mercy.something of that sort, and throwing it at me, when the‘An’t you a-going to leave none of ‘em a lock of your hair?’ gentlemans’ appetites is good. Wot,’ said Mr Bailey, stung byinquired the youth. ‘It’s real, an’t it?’the recollection of his wrongs, ‘wot, if they do consume theThey laughed at this, and told him of course it was. per-vishuns. It an’t my fault, is it?’‘Oh, is it of course, though?’ said Bailey. ‘I know better ‘Surely no one says it is,’ said Mercy.than that. Hers an’t. Why, I see it hanging up once, on that ‘Don’t they though?’ retorted the youth. ‘No. Yes. Ah! oh!nail by the winder. Besides, I have gone behind her at dinnertimeand pulled it; and she never know’d. I say, young ladies, a-going to have every rise in prices wisited on me. I an’t a-No one mayn’t say it is! but some one knows it is. But I an’tI’m a-going to leave. I an’t a-going to stand being called names going to be killed because the markets is dear. I won’t stop.by her, no longer.’And therefore,’ added Mr Bailey, relenting into a smile,Miss Mercy inquired what his plans for the future might ‘wotever you mean to give me, you’d better give me all atbe; in reply to whom Mr Bailey intimated that he thought of once, becos if ever you come back agin, I shan’t be here; andgoing either into top-boots, or into the army.as to the other boy, HE won’t deserve nothing, I know.’‘Into the army!’ cried the young ladies, with a laugh. The young ladies, on behalf of Mr Pecksniff and themselves,acted on this thoughtful advice; and in consideration‘Ah!’ said Bailey, ‘why not? There’s a many drummers inthe Tower. I’m acquainted with ‘em. Don’t their country set a of their private friendship, presented Mr Bailey with a gratuityso liberal that he could hardly do enough to show hisvalley on ‘em, mind you! Not at all!’‘You’ll be shot, I see,’ observed Mercy.gratitude; which found but an imperfect vent, during the‘Well!’ cried Mr Bailey, ‘wot if I am? There’s something remainder of the day, in divers secret slaps upon his pocket,gamey in it, young ladies, an’t there? I’d sooner be hit with a and other such facetious pantomime. Nor was it confinedcannon-ball than a rolling-pin, and she’s always a-catching up to these ebullitions; for besides crushing a bandbox, with a193

Martin Chuzzlewitbonnet in it, he seriously damaged Mr Pecksniff’s luggage, ‘Unanimity, my good sir,’ rejoined Mr Pecksniff, ‘is alwaysby ardently hauling it down from the top of the house; and delightful.’in short evinced, by every means in his power, a lively sense ‘I don’t know about that,’ said the old man, ‘for there areof the favours he had received from that gentleman and his some people I would rather differ from than agree with. Butfamily.you know my opinion of you.’Mr Pecksniff and Mr Jinkins came home to dinner arm-inarm;for the latter gentleman had made half-holiday on purpliedby a motion of his head, which was something betweenMr Pecksniff, still having ‘hypocrite’ in his mind, only repose;thus gaining an immense advantage over the youngest an affirmative bow, and a negative shake.gentleman and the rest, whose time, as it perversely chanced, ‘Complimentary,’ said Anthony. ‘Complimentary, upon mywas all bespoke, until the evening. The bottle of wine was Mr word. It was an involuntary tribute to your abilities, even atPecksniff’s treat, and they were very sociable indeed; though the time; and it was not a time to suggest compliments either.But we agreed in the coach, you know, that we quitefull of lamentations on the necessity of parting. While theywere in the midst of their enjoyment, old Anthony and his understood each other.’son were announced; much to the surprise of Mr Pecksniff, ‘Oh, quite!’ assented Mr Pecksniff, in a manner which implied thatand greatly to the discomfiture of Jinkins.he himself was misunderstood most cruelly, but would not complain.‘Come to say good-bye, you see,’ said Anthony, in a low Anthony glanced at his son as he sat beside Miss Charity,voice, to Mr Pecksniff, as they took their seats apart at the and then at Mr Pecksniff, and then at his son again, very manytable, while the rest conversed among themselves. ‘Where’s times. It happened that Mr Pecksniff’s glances took a similarthe use of a division between you and me? We are the two direction; but when he became aware of it, he first cast downhalves of a pair of scissors, when apart, Pecksniff; but together his eyes, and then closed them; as if he were determined thatwe are something. Eh?’the old man should read nothing there.194

Charles Dickens‘Jonas is a shrewd lad,’ said the old man.‘I know what you are going to say. It’s quite unnecessary.‘He appears,’ rejoined Mr Pecksniff in his most candid You have never thought of this for a moment; and in a pointmanner, ‘to be very shrewd.’so nearly affecting the happiness of your dear child, you‘And careful,’ said the old man.couldn’t, as a tender father, express an opinion; and so forth.‘And careful, I have no doubt,’ returned Mr Pecksniff. Yes, quite right. And like you! But it seems to me, my dear‘Look ye!’ said Anthony in his ear. ‘I think he is sweet upon Pecksniff,’ added Anthony, laying his hand upon his sleeve,you daughter.’‘that if you and I kept up the joke of pretending not to see‘Tut, my good sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, with his eyes still this, one of us might possibly be placed in a position of disadvantage;and as I am very unwilling to be that party myself,closed; ‘young people—young people—a kind of cousins,too—no more sweetness than is in that, sir.’you will excuse my taking the liberty of putting the matter‘Why, there is very little sweetness in that, according to our beyond a doubt thus early; and having it distinctly understood,as it is now, that we do see it, and do know it. Thankexperience,’ returned Anthony. ‘Isn’t there a trifle more here?’‘Impossible to say,’ rejoined Mr Pecksniff. ‘Quite impossible!You surprise me.’which is agreeable to us both, I am sure.’you for your attention. We are now upon an equal footing;‘Yes, I know that,’ said the old man, drily. ‘It may last; I He rose as he spoke; and giving Mr Pecksniff a nod of intelligence,moved away from him to where the young peoplemean the sweetness, not the surprise; and it may die off. Supposingit should last, perhaps (you having feathered your nest were sitting; leaving that good man somewhat puzzled andpretty well, and I having done the same), we might have a discomfited by such very plain dealing, and not quite freemutual interest in the matter.’from a sense of having been foiled in the exercise of his familiarweapons.Mr Pecksniff, smiling gently, was about to speak, but Anthonystopped him.But the night-coach had a punctual character, and it was195

Martin Chuzzlewittime to join it at the office; which was so near at hand that the ground, was deep in the booking-office among the blackthey had already sent their luggage and arranged to walk. and red placards, and the portraits of fast coaches, where heThither the whole party repaired, therefore, after no more was ignominiously harassed by porters, and had to contenddelay than sufficed for the equipment of the Miss Pecksniffs and strive perpetually with heavy baggage. This false position,combined with his nervous excitement, brought aboutand Mrs Todgers. They found the coach already at its starting-place,and the horses in; there, too, were a large majority the very consummation and catastrophe of his miseries; forof the commercial gentlemen, including the youngest, who when in the moment of parting he aimed a flower, a hothouseflower that had cost money, at the fair hand of Mercy,was visibly agitated, and in a state of deep mental dejection.Nothing could equal the distress of Mrs Todgers in parting it reached, instead, the coachman on the box, who thankedfrom the young ladies, except the strong emotions with which him kindly, and stuck it in his buttonhole.she bade adieu to Mr Pecksniff. Never surely was a pockethandkerchieftaken in and out of a flat reticule so often as young ladies, leaning back in their separate corners, resignedThey were off now; and Todgers’s was alone again. The twoMrs Todgers’s was, as she stood upon the pavement by the themselves to their own regretful thoughts. But Mr Pecksniff,coach-door supported on either side by a commercial gentleman;and by the sight of the coach-lamps caught such brief enjoyment, concentrated his meditations on the one great vir-dismissing all ephemeral considerations of social pleasure andsnatches and glimpses of the good man’s face, as the constant tuous purpose before him, of casting out that ingrate andinterposition of Mr Jinkins allowed. For Jinkins, to the last deceiver, whose presence yet troubled his domestic hearth,the youngest gentleman’s rock a-head in life, stood upon the and was a sacrilege upon the altars of his household gods.coachstep talking to the ladies. Upon the other step was MrJonas, who maintained that position in right of his cousinship;whereas the youngest gentleman, who had been first upon196

CHAPTER TWELVEWILL BE SEEN IN THE LONG RUN, IFNOT IN THE SHORT ONE, TO CONCERNMR PINCH AND OTHERS, NEARLY. MRPECKSNIFF ASSERTS THE DIGNITY OFOUTRAGED VIRTUE. YOUNG MARTINCHUZZLEWIT FORMS A DESPERATERESOLUTIONMR PINCH AND MARTIN, little dreaming of the stormyweather that impended, made themselves very comfortablein the Pecksniffian halls, and improved their friendship daily.Martin’s facility, both of invention and execution, being remarkable,the grammar-school proceeded with great vigour;and Tom repeatedly declared, that if there were anythinglike certainty in human affairs, or impartiality in humanjudges, a design so new and full of merit could not fail tocarry off the first prize when the time of competition arrived.Without being quite so sanguine himself, Martin hadCharles Dickens197his hopeful anticipations too; and they served to make himbrisk and eager at his task.‘If I should turn out a great architect, Tom,’ said the newpupil one day, as he stood at a little distance from his drawing,and eyed it with much complacency, ‘I’ll tell you whatshould be one of the things I’d build.’‘Aye!’ cried Tom. ‘What?’‘Why, your fortune.’‘No!’ said Tom Pinch, quite as much delighted as if thething were done. ‘Would you though? How kind of you tosay so.’‘I’d build it up, Tom,’ returned Martin, ‘on such a strongfoundation, that it should last your life—aye, and yourchildren’s lives too, and their children’s after them. I’d be yourpatron, Tom. I’d take you under my protection. Let me seethe man who should give the cold shoulder to anybody Ichose to protect and patronise, if I were at the top of the tree,Tom!’‘Now, I don’t think,’ said Mr Pinch, ‘upon my word, thatI was ever more gratified than by this. I really don’t.’‘Oh! I mean what I say,’ retorted Martin, with a manner as

Martin Chuzzlewitfree and easy in its condescension to, not to say in its compassionfor, the other, as if he were already First Architect in your information about one, instead of some ordinary block-(I’m quite in earnest, I give you my word), to have a man ofordinary to all the Crowned Heads in Europe. ‘I’d do it. I’d head. Oh, I’d take care of you. You’d be useful, rely upon it!’provide for you.’To say that Tom had no idea of playing first fiddle in any‘I am afraid,’ said Tom, shaking his head, ‘that I should be a social orchestra, but was always quite satisfied to be set downmighty awkward person to provide for.’for the hundred and fiftieth violin in the band, or thereabouts,‘Pooh, pooh!’ rejoined Martin. ‘Never mind that. If I took is to express his modesty in very inadequate terms. He wasit in my head to say, “Pinch is a clever fellow; I approve of much delighted, therefore, by these observations.Pinch;” I should like to know the man who would venture to ‘I should be married to her then, Tom, of course,’ saidput himself in opposition to me. Besides, confound it, Tom, Martin.you could be useful to me in a hundred ways.’What was that which checked Tom Pinch so suddenly, in‘If I were not useful in one or two, it shouldn’t be for want the high flow of his gladness; bringing the blood into hisof trying,’ said Tom.honest cheeks, and a remorseful feeling to his honest heart, as‘For instance,’ pursued Martin, after a short reflection, ‘you’d if he were unworthy of his friend’s regard?be a capital fellow, now, to see that my ideas were properly ‘I should be married to her then,’ said Martin, looking withcarried out; and to overlook the works in their progress beforethey were sufficiently advanced to be very interesting to dren about us. They’d be very fond of you, Tom.’a smile towards the light; ‘and we should have, I hope, chil-ME; and to take all that sort of plain sailing. Then you’d be a But not a word said Mr Pinch. The words he would havesplendid fellow to show people over my studio, and to talk uttered died upon his lips, and found a life more spiritual inabout Art to ‘em, when I couldn’t be bored myself, and all self-denying thoughts.that kind of thing. For it would be devilish creditable, Tom ‘All the children hereabouts are fond of you, Tom, and mine198

Charles Dickenswould be, of course,’ pursued Martin. ‘Perhaps I might name would pretend to give you little commissions to execute, andone of ‘em after you. Tom, eh? Well, I don’t know. Tom’s not to ask little services of you, which she knew you were burningto render; so that when she really pleased you most, shea bad name. Thomas Pinch Chuzzlewit. T. P. C. on his pinafores—noobjection to that, I should say?’would try to make you think you most pleased her. She wouldTom cleared his throat, and smiled.take to you uncommonly, Tom; and would understand you‘She would like you, Tom, I know,’ said Martin. far more delicately than I ever shall; and would often say, I‘Aye!’ cried Tom Pinch, faintly.know, that you were a harmless, gentle, well-intentioned, good‘I can tell exactly what she would think of you,’ said Martinleaning his chin upon his hand, and looking through the How silent Tom Pinch was!fellow.’window-glass as if he read there what he said; ‘I know her so ‘In honour of old time,’ said Martin, ‘and of her havingwell. She would smile, Tom, often at first when you spoke to heard you play the organ in this damp little church downher, or when she looked at you—merrily too—but you here—for nothing too—we will have one in the house. I shallwouldn’t mind that. A brighter smile you never saw.’ build an architectural music-room on a plan of my own, and‘No, no,’ said Tom. ‘I wouldn’t mind that.’it’ll look rather knowing in a recess at one end. There you‘She would be as tender with you, Tom,’ said Martin, ‘as if shall play away, Tom, till you tire yourself; and, as you like toyou were a child yourself. So you are almost, in some things, do so in the dark, it shall BE dark; and many’s the summeran’t you, Tom?’evening she and I will sit and listen to you, Tom; be sure ofMr Pinch nodded his entire assent.that!’‘She would always be kind and good-humoured, and glad It may have required a stronger effort on Tom Pinch’s partto see you,’ said Martin; ‘and when she found out exactly to leave the seat on which he sat, and shake his friend by bothwhat sort of fellow you were (which she’d do very soon), she hands, with nothing but serenity and grateful feeling painted199

Martin Chuzzlewiton his face; it may have required a stronger effort to perform ‘Who may that be?’ asked Tom, seeming to enter a mildthis simple act with a pure heart, than to achieve many and protest on behalf of the dignity of an absent person.many a deed to which the doubtful trumpet blown by Fame ‘You know. What is it? Northkey.’has lustily resounded. Doubtful, because from its long hoveringover scenes of violence, the smoke and steam of death ‘Ah! to be sure,’ said Martin, ‘Westlock. I knew it was some-‘Westlock,’ rejoined Tom, in rather a louder tone than usual.have clogged the keys of that brave instrument; and it is not thing connected with a point of the compass and a door. Well!always that its notes are either true or tuneful.and what says Westlock?’‘It’s a proof of the kindness of human nature,’ said Tom, ‘Oh! he has come into his property,’ answered Tom, noddinghis head, and smiling.characteristically putting himself quite out of sight in thematter, ‘that everybody who comes here, as you have done, is ‘He’s a lucky dog,’ said Martin. ‘I wish it were mine instead.Is that all the mystery you were to tell me?’more considerate and affectionate to me than I should haveany right to hope, if I were the most sanguine creature in the ‘No,’ said Tom; ‘not all.’world; or should have any power to express, if I were the ‘What’s the rest?’ asked Martin.most eloquent. It really overpowers me. But trust me,’ said ‘For the matter of that,’ said Tom, ‘it’s no mystery, and youTom, ‘that I am not ungrateful—that I never forget—and won’t think much of it; but it’s very pleasant to me. Johnthat if I can ever prove the truth of my words to you, I will.’ always used to say when he was here, “Mark my words, Pinch.‘That’s all right,’ observed Martin, leaning back in his chair When my father’s executors cash up”—he used strange expressionsnow and then, but that was his way.’with a hand in each pocket, and yawning drearily. ‘Very finetalking, Tom; but I’m at Pecksniff’s, I remember, and perhaps ‘Cash-up’s a very good expression,’ observed Martin, ‘whena mile or so out of the high-road to fortune just at this minute. other people don’t apply it to you. Well!—What a slow fellowyou are, So you’ve heard again this morning from what’s his name, eh?’Pinch!’200

Charles Dickens‘Yes, I am I know,’ said Tom; ‘but you’ll make me nervous Tom could have wished him to be a little more astonished,if you tell me so. I’m afraid you have put me out a little now, a little more pleased, or in some form or other a little morefor I forget what I was going to say.’interested in such a great event. But he was perfectly selfpossessed;and falling into his favourite solace of whistling,‘When John’s father’s executors cashed up,’ said Martin impatiently.took another turn at the grammar-school, as if nothing at all‘Oh yes, to be sure,’ cried Tom; ‘yes. “Then,” says John, had happened.“I’ll give you a dinner, Pinch, and come down to Salisbury on Mr Pecksniff’s horse being regarded in the light of a sacredpurpose.” Now, when John wrote the other day—the morningPecksniff left, you know—he said his business was on the temple, or by some person distinctly nominated for the timeanimal, only to be driven by him, the chief priest of thatpoint of being immediately settled, and as he was to receive being to that high office by himself, the two young men agreedhis money directly, when could I meet him at Salisbury? I to walk to Salisbury; and so, when the time came, they set offwrote and said, any day this week; and I told him besides, on foot; which was, after all, a better mode of travelling thanthat there was a new pupil here, and what a fine fellow you in the gig, as the weather was very cold and very dry.were, and what friends we had become. Upon which John Better! A rare strong, hearty, healthy walk—four statutewrites back this letter’—Tom produced it—’fixes to-morrow;sends his compliments to you; and begs that we three ing, shaking, scraping, creaking, villanous old gig? Why, themiles an hour—preferable to that rumbling, tumbling, jolt-may have the pleasure of dining together; not at the house two things will not admit of comparison. It is an insult to thewhere you and I were, either; but at the very first hotel in the walk, to set them side by side. Where is an instance of a gigtown. Read what he says.’having ever circulated a man’s blood, unless when, putting‘Very well,’ said Martin, glancing over it with his customarycoolness; ‘much obliged to him. I’m agreeable.’ ears, and all along his spine, a tingling heat, much morehim in danger of his neck, it awakened in his veins and in hispecu-201

Martin Chuzzlewitliar than agreeable? When did a gig ever sharpen anybody’s laughter ring upon the air, as they turned them round, whatwits and energies, unless it was when the horse bolted, and, time the stronger gusts came sweeping up; and, facing roundcrashing madly down a steep hill with a stone wall at the again as they passed by, dashed on, in such a glow of ruddybottom, his desperate circumstances suggested to the only health as nothing could keep pace with, but the high spirits itgentleman left inside, some novel and unheard-of mode of engendered? Better than the gig! Why, here is a man in a gigdropping out behind? Better than the gig!coming the same way now. Look at him as he passes his whipThe air was cold, Tom; so it was, there was no denying it; into his left hand, chafes his numbed right fingers on his granitebut would it have been more genial in the gig? The leg, and beats those marble toes of his upon the foot-board.blacksmith’s fire burned very bright, and leaped up high, as Ha, ha, ha! Who would exchange this rapid hurry of the bloodthough it wanted men to warm; but would it have been less for yonder stagnant misery, though its pace were twenty milestempting, looked at from the clammy cushions of a gig? The for one?wind blew keenly, nipping the features of the hardy wight Better than the gig! No man in a gig could have such interestin the milestones. No man in a gig could see, or feel, orwho fought his way along; blinding him with his own hair ifhe had enough to it, and wintry dust if he hadn’t; stopping think, like merry users of their legs. How, as the wind sweepshis breath as though he had been soused in a cold bath; tearingaside his wrappings-up, and whistling in the very marrow ripples on the grass, and smoothest shadows on the hills! Lookon, upon these breezy downs, it tracks its flight in darkeningof his bones; but it would have done all this a hundred times round and round upon this bare bleak plain, and see evenmore fiercely to a man in a gig, wouldn’t it? A fig for gigs! here, upon a winter’s day, how beautiful the shadows are!Better than the gig! When were travellers by wheels and Alas! it is the nature of their kind to be so. The loveliest thingshoofs seen with such red-hot cheeks as those? when were they in life, Tom, are but shadows; and they come and go, andso good-humouredly and merrily bloused? when did their change and fade away, as rapidly as these!202

Charles DickensAnother mile, and then begins a fall of snow, making the And behold, on the first floor, at the court-end of the house,crow, who skims away so close above the ground to shirk the in a room with all the window-curtains drawn, a fire piledwind, a blot of ink upon the landscape. But though it drives half-way up the chimney, plates warming before it, wax candlesand drifts against them as they walk, stiffening on their skirts, gleaming everywhere, and a table spread for three, with silverand freezing in the lashes of their eyes, they wouldn’t have it and glass enough for thirty—John Westlock; not the old Johnfall more sparingly, no, not so much as by a single flake, althoughthey had to go a score of miles. And, lo! the towers of grander person, with the consciousness of being his own mas-of Pecksniff’s, but a proper gentleman; looking another and athe Old Cathedral rise before them, even now! and by-andbyethey come into the sheltered streets, made strangely silent the old John too, for he seized Tom Pinch by both his handster and having money in the bank; and yet in some respectsby their white carpet; and so to the Inn for which they are the instant he appeared, and fairly hugged him, in his cordialbound; where they present such flushed and burning faces to welcome.the cold waiter, and are so brimful of vigour, that he almost ‘And this,’ said John, ‘is Mr Chuzzlewit. I am very glad tofeels assaulted by their presence; and, having nothing to opposeto the attack (being fresh, or rather stale, from the blaz-shook hands warmly, and were friends in no time.see him!’—John had an off-hand manner of his own; so theying fire in the coffee-room), is quite put out of his pale countenance.hand on each of Mr Pinch’s shoulders, and holding him out‘Stand off a moment, Tom,’ cried the old pupil, laying oneA famous Inn! the hall a very grove of dead game, and danglingjoints of mutton; and in one corner an illustrious larder, changed!’at arm’s length. ‘Let me look at you! Just the same! Not a bitwith glass doors, developing cold fowls and noble joints, and ‘Why, it’s not so very long ago, you know,’ said Tom Pinch,tarts wherein the raspberry jam coyly withdrew itself, as such ‘after all.’a precious creature should, behind a lattice work of pastry. ‘It seems an age to me,’ cried John. ‘and so it ought to seem203

Martin Chuzzlewitto you, you dog.’ And then he pushed Tom down into the of laughter, and then endeavouring to appear preternaturallyeasiest chair, and clapped him on the back so heartily, and so solemn, lest the waiters should conceive he wasn’t used to it.like his old self in their old bedroom at old Pecksniff’s that it Some of the things they brought him to carve, were suchwas a toss-up with Tom Pinch whether he should laugh or outrageous practical jokes, though, that it was impossible tocry. Laughter won it; and they all three laughed together. stand it; and when Tom Pinch insisted, in spite of the deferentialadvice of an attendant, not only on breaking down the‘I have ordered everything for dinner, that we used to saywe’d have, Tom,’ observed John Westlock.outer wall of a raised pie with a tablespoon, but on trying to‘No!’ said Tom Pinch. ‘Have you?’eat it afterwards, John lost all dignity, and sat behind the gorgeousdish-cover at the head of the table, roaring to that ex-‘Everything. Don’t laugh, if you can help it, before the waiters.I couldn’t when I was ordering it. It’s like a dream.’ tent that he was audible in the kitchen. Nor had he the leastJohn was wrong there, because nobody ever dreamed such objection to laugh at himself, as he demonstrated when theysoup as was put upon the table directly afterwards; or such had all three gathered round the fire and the dessert was onfish; or such side-dishes; or such a top and bottom; or such a the table; at which period the head waiter inquired with respectfulsolicitude whether that port, being a light and tawnycourse of birds and sweets; or in short anything approachingthe reality of that entertainment at ten-and-sixpence a head, wine, was suited to his taste, or whether he would wish to tryexclusive of wines. As to them, the man who can dream such a fruity port with greater body. To this John gravely answerediced champagne, such claret, port, or sherry, had better go to that he was well satisfied with what he had, which he esteemed,as one might say, a pretty tidy vintage; for which thebed and stop there.But perhaps the finest feature of the banquet was, that nobodywas half so much amazed by everything as John him-friends, with a broad grin, that he supposed it was all right,waiter thanked him and withdrew. And then John told hisself, who in his high delight was constantly bursting into fits but he didn’t know; and went off into a perfect shout.204

Charles DickensThey were very merry and full of enjoyment the whole time, ‘So it is,’ said Martin. ‘Very true. There was a fellow only abut not the least pleasant part of the festival was when they all week or so ago—a Mr Tigg—who borrowed all the moneythree sat about the fire, cracking nuts, drinking wine and talkingcheerfully. It happened that Tom Pinch had a word to say a sovereign, to be sure; but it’s well it was no more, for he’llhe had, on a promise to repay it in a few days. It was but halfto his friend the organist’s assistant, and so deserted his warm never see it again.’corner for a few minutes at this season, lest it should grow too ‘Poor fellow!’ said John, who had been very attentive to theselate; leaving the other two young men together.few words. ‘Perhaps you have not had an opportunity of observingthat, in his own pecuniary transactions, Tom’s proud.’They drank his health in his absence, of course; and JohnWestlock took that opportunity of saying, that he had never ‘You don’t say so! No, I haven’t. What do you mean? Won’thad even a peevish word with Tom during the whole term of he borrow?’their residence in Mr Pecksniff’s house. This naturally led John Westlock shook his head.him to dwell upon Tom’s character, and to hint that Mr ‘That’s very odd,’ said Martin, setting down his empty glass.Pecksniff understood it pretty well. He only hinted this, and ‘He’s a strange compound, to be sure.’very distantly; knowing that it pained Tom Pinch to have ‘As to receiving money as a gift,’ resumed John Westlock; ‘Ithat gentleman disparaged, and thinking it would be as well think he’d die first.’to leave the new pupil to his own discoveries.‘He’s made up of simplicity,’ said Martin. ‘Help yourself.’‘Yes,’ said Martin. ‘It’s impossible to like Pinch better than ‘You, however,’ pursued John, filling his own glass, andI do, or to do greater justice to his good qualities. He is the looking at his companion with some curiosity, ‘who are oldermost willing fellow I ever saw.’than the majority of Mr Pecksniff’s assistants, and have evidentlyhad much more experience, understand him, I have no‘He’s rather too willing,’ observed John, who was quick inobservation. ‘It’s quite a fault in him.’doubt, and see how liable he is to be imposed upon.’205

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Certainly,’ said Martin, stretching out his legs, and holdinghis wine between his eye and the light. ‘Mr Pecksniff Westlock.‘If you press me to give my opinion—’ returned Johnknows that too. So do his daughters. Eh?’‘Yes, I do,’ said Martin. ‘You’ll oblige me.’John Westlock smiled, but made no answer.‘—I should say,’ resumed the other, ‘that he is the most‘By the bye,’ said Martin, ‘that reminds me. What’s your consummate scoundrel on the face of the earth.’opinion of Pecksniff? How did he use you? What do you ‘Oh!’ said Martin, as coolly as ever. ‘That’s rather strong.’think of him now?—Coolly, you know, when it’s all over?’ ‘Not stronger than he deserves,’ said John; ‘and if he called‘Ask Pinch,’ returned the old pupil. ‘He knows what my upon me to express my opinion of him to his face, I would dosentiments used to be upon the subject. They are not changed, so in the very same terms, without the least qualification. HisI assure you.’treatment of Pinch is in itself enough to justify them; but when‘No, no,’ said Martin, ‘I’d rather have them from you.’ I look back upon the five years I passed in that house, and‘But Pinch says they are unjust,’ urged John with a smile. remember the hyprocrisy, the knavery, the meannesses, the false‘Oh! well! Then I know what course they take beforehand,’ pretences, the lip service of that fellow, and his trading in saintlysaid Martin; ‘and, therefore, you can have no delicacy in speakingplainly. Don’t mind me, I beg. I don’t like him I tell you often I was the witness of all this and how often I was made asemblances for the very worst realities; when I remember howfrankly. I am with him because it happens from particular kind of party to it, by the fact of being there, with him for mycircumstances to suit my convenience. I have some ability, I teacher; I swear to you that I almost despise myself.’believe, in that way; and the obligation, if any, will most likely Martin drained his glass, and looked at the fire.be on his side and not mine. At the lowest mark, the balance ‘I don’t mean to say that is a right feeling,’ pursued Johnwill be even, and there’ll be no obligation at all. So you may Westlock ‘because it was no fault of mine; and I can quite understand—youfor instance, fully appreciating him, and yet talk to me, as if I had no connection with him.’being206

Charles Dickensforced by circumstances to remain there. I tell you simply what ‘What new pupil?’my feeling is; and even now, when, as you say, it’s all over; and ‘The fortunate youth, born under an auspicious star,’ returnedJohn Westlock, laughing; ‘whose parents, or guard-when I have the satisfaction of knowing that he always hated me,and we always quarrelled, and I always told him my mind; even ians, are destined to be hooked by the advertisement. What!now, I feel sorry that I didn’t yield to an impulse I often had, as a Don’t you know that he has advertised again?’boy, of running away from him and going abroad.’‘No.’‘Why abroad?’ asked Martin, turning his eyes upon the ‘Oh, yes. I read it just before dinner in the old newspaper. Ispeaker.know it to be his; having some reason to remember the style.‘In search,’ replied John Westlock, shrugging his shoulders, Hush! Here’s Pinch. Strange, is it not, that the more he likes‘of the livelihood I couldn’t have earned at home. There would Pecksniff (if he can like him better than he does), the greaterhave been something spirited in that. But, come! Fill your reason one has to like him? Not a word more, or we shallglass, and let us forget him.’spoil his whole enjoyment.’‘As soon as you please,’ said Martin. ‘In reference to myself Tom entered as the words were spoken, with a radiant smileand my connection with him, I have only to repeat what I upon his face; and rubbing his hands, more from a sense ofsaid before. I have taken my own way with him so far, and delight than because he was cold (for he had been runningshall continue to do so, even more than ever; for the fact is, to fast), sat down in his warm corner again, and was as happy astell you the truth, that I believe he looks to me to supply his only Tom Pinch could be. There is no other simile that willdefects, and couldn’t afford to lose me. I had a notion of that express his state of mind.in first going there. Your health!’‘And so,’ he said, when he had gazed at his friend for some‘Thank you,’ returned young Westlock. ‘Yours. And may time in silent pleasure, ‘so you really are a gentleman at last,the new pupil turn out as well as you can desire!’John. Well, to be sure!’207

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Trying to be, Tom; trying to be,’ he rejoined goodhumouredly.‘There is no saying what I may turn out, in admire, respect, and reverence him. You couldn’t help it. Oh,John, I’d give almost any money to bring that about—you’dtime.’how you wounded his feelings when you went away!’‘I suppose you wouldn’t carry your own box to the mail ‘If I had known whereabout his feelings lay,’ retorted youngnow?’ said Tom Pinch, smiling; ‘although you lost it altogetherby not taking it.’you may depend upon it. But as I couldn’t wound him inWestlock, ‘I’d have done my best, Tom, with that end in view,‘Wouldn’t I?’ retorted John. ‘That’s all you know about it, what he has not, and in what he knows nothing of, except inPinch. It must be a very heavy box that I wouldn’t carry to get his ability to probe them to the quick in other people, I amaway from Pecksniff’s, Tom.’afraid I can lay no claim to your compliment.’‘There!’ cried Pinch, turning to Martin, ‘I told you so. The Mr Pinch, being unwilling to protract a discussion whichgreat fault in his character is his injustice to Pecksniff. You might possibly corrupt Martin, forbore to say anything inmustn’t mind a word he says on that subject. His prejudice is reply to this speech; but John Westlock, whom nothing shortmost extraordinary.’of an iron gag would have silenced when Mr Pecksniff’s meritswere once in question, continued notwithstanding.‘The absence of anything like prejudice on Tom’s part, youknow,’ said John Westlock, laughing heartily, as he laid his ‘His feelings! Oh, he’s a tender-hearted man. His feelings!hand on Mr Pinch’s shoulder, ‘is perfectly wonderful. If one Oh, he’s a considerate, conscientious, self-examining, moralman ever had a profound knowledge of another, and saw him vagabond, he is! His feelings! Oh!—what’s the matter, Tom?’in a true light, and in his own proper colours, Tom has that Mr Pinch was by this time erect upon the hearth-rug, buttoninghis coat with great energy.knowledge of Mr Pecksniff.’‘Why, of course I have,’ cried Tom. ‘That’s exactly what I ‘I can’t bear it,’ said Tom, shaking his head. ‘No. I reallyhave so often said to you. If you knew him as well as I do— cannot. You must excuse me, John. I have a great esteem and208

Charles Dickensfriendship for you; I love you very much; and have been perfectlycharmed and overjoyed to-day, to find you just the and filling a bumper. ‘Thank you; I’ll drink it with all my‘Thank you,’ cried Tom, shaking hands with him eagerly,same as ever; but I cannot listen to this.’heart, John. Mr Pecksniff’s health, and prosperity to him!’‘Why, it’s my old way, Tom; and you say yourself that you John Westlock echoed the sentiment, or nearly so; for heare glad to find me unchanged.’drank Mr Pecksniff’s health, and Something to him—but‘Not in this respect,’ said Tom Pinch. ‘You must excuse what, was not quite audible. The general unanimity beingme, John. I cannot, really; I will not. It’s very wrong; you then completely restored, they drew their chairs closer roundshould be more guarded in your expressions. It was bad enough the fire, and conversed in perfect harmony and enjoymentwhen you and I used to be alone together, but under existing until bed-time.circumstances, I can’t endure it, really. No. I cannot, indeed.’ No slight circumstance, perhaps, could have better illustratedthe difference of character between John Westlock and‘You are quite right!’ exclaimed the other, exchanging lookswith Martin. ‘and I am quite wrong, Tom. I don’t know how Martin Chuzzlewit, than the manner in which each of thethe deuce we fell on this unlucky theme. I beg your pardon young men contemplated Tom Pinch, after the little rupturewith all my heart.’just described. There was a certain amount of jocularity in the‘You have a free and manly temper, I know,’ said Pinch; looks of both, no doubt, but there all resemblance ceased.‘and therefore, your being so ungenerous in this one solitary The old pupil could not do enough to show Tom how cordiallyhe felt towards him, and his friendly regard seemed of ainstance, only grieves me the more. It’s not my pardon youhave to ask, John. You have done me nothing but kindnesses.’ graver and more thoughtful kind than before. The new one,‘Well! Pecksniff’s pardon then,’ said young Westlock. ‘AnythingTom, or anybody. Pecksniff’s pardon—will that do? lection of Tom’s extreme absurdity; and mingled with hison the other hand, had no impulse but to laugh at the recol-Here! let us drink Pecksniff’s health!’amusement there was something slighting and contemptu-209

Martin Chuzzlewitous, indicative, as it appeared, of his opinion that Mr Pinch suppose it’s a good one, but he is rather a doubtful kind ofwas much too far gone in simplicity to be admitted as the customer, Tom.’friend, on serious and equal terms, of any rational man. Mr Pinch received the little piece of gold with a face whoseJohn Westlock, who did nothing by halves, if he could help brightness might have shamed the metal; and said he had noit, had provided beds for his two guests in the hotel; and after fear about that. He was glad, he added, to find Mr Tigg soa very happy evening, they retired. Mr Pinch was sitting on prompt and honourable in his dealings; very glad.the side of his bed with his cravat and shoes off, ruminating ‘Why, to tell you the truth, Tom,’ replied his friend, ‘he ison the manifold good qualities of his old friend, when he was not always so. If you’ll take my advice, you’ll avoid him asinterrupted by a knock at his chamber door, and the voice of much as you can, in the event of your encountering him again.John himself.And by no means, Tom—pray bear this in mind, for I am‘You’re not asleep yet, are you, Tom?’very serious—by no means lend him money any more.’‘Bless you, no! not I. I was thinking of you,’ replied Tom, ‘Aye, aye!’ said Tom, with his eyes wide open.opening the door. ‘Come in.’‘He is very far from being a reputable acquaintance,’ returnedyoung Westlock; ‘and the more you let him know‘I am not going to detail you,’ said John; ‘but I have forgottenall the evening a little commission I took upon myself;and I am afraid I may forget it again, if I fail to discharge ‘I say, John,’ quoth Mr Pinch, as his countenance fell, andyou think so, the better for you, Tom.’it at once. You know a Mr Tigg, Tom, I believe?’he shook his head in a dejected manner. ‘I hope you are not‘Tigg!’ cried Tom. ‘Tigg! The gentleman who borrowed getting into bad company.’some money of me?’‘No, no,’ he replied laughing. ‘Don’t be uneasy on that‘Exactly,’ said John Westlock. ‘He begged me to present his score.’compliments, and to return it with many thanks. Here it is. I ‘Oh, but I am uneasy,’ said Tom Pinch; ‘I can’t help it,210

Charles Dickenswhen I hear you talking in that way. If Mr Tigg is what you ‘Ill!’ said the other, giving his hand a hearty squeeze; ‘whydescribe him to be, you have no business to know him, John. what do you think I am made of? Mr Tigg and I are not onYou may laugh, but I don’t consider it by any means a laughingmatter, I assure you.’you my solemn assurance of that, Tom. You are quite com-such an intimate footing that you need be at all uneasy, I give‘No, no,’ returned his friend, composing his features. ‘Quite fortable now?’right. It is not, certainly.’‘Quite,’ said Tom.‘You know, John,’ said Mr Pinch, ‘your very good nature ‘Then once more, good night!’and kindness of heart make you thoughtless, and you can’t be ‘Good night!’ cried Tom; ‘and such pleasant dreams to youtoo careful on such a point as this. Upon my word, if I thought as should attend the sleep of the best fellow in the world!’you were falling among bad companions, I should be quite ‘—Except Pecksniff,’ said his friend, stopping at the doorwretched, for I know how difficult you would find it to shake for a moment, and looking gayly back.them off. I would much rather have lost this money, John, ‘Except Pecksniff,’ answered Tom, with great gravity; ‘ofthan I would have had it back again on such terms.’ course.’‘I tell you, my dear good old fellow,’ cried his friend, shakinghim to and fro with both hands, and smiling at him with light-heartedness and good humour, and poor Tom PinchAnd thus they parted for the night; John Westlock full ofa cheerful, open countenance, that would have carried convictionto a mind much more suspicious than Tom’s; ‘I tell bed, he muttered to himself, ‘I really do wish, for all that,quite satisfied; though still, as he turned over on his side inyou there is no danger.’though, that he wasn’t acquainted with Mr Tigg.’‘Well!’ cried Tom, ‘I am glad to hear it; I am overjoyed to They breakfasted together very early next morning, for thehear it. I am sure there is not, when you say so in that manner. two young men desired to get back again in good season; andYou won’t take it ill, John, that I said what I did just now!’ John Westlock was to return to London by the coach that211

Martin Chuzzlewitday. As he had some hours to spare, he bore them company brief epistle from that good gentleman to Mr Pinch announcedfor three or four miles on their walk, and only parted from the family’s return by that night’s coach. As it would pass thethem at last in sheer necessity. The parting was an unusually corner of the lane at about six o’clock in the morning, Mrhearty one, not only as between him and Tom Pinch, but on Pecksniff requested that the gig might be in waiting at thethe side of Martin also, who had found in the old pupil a very finger-post about that time, together with a cart for the luggage.And to the end that he might be received with the greaterdifferent sort of person from the milksop he had preparedhimself to expect.honour, the young men agreed to rise early, and be upon theYoung Westlock stopped upon a rising ground, when he spot themselves.had gone a little distance, and looked back. They were walkingat a brisk pace, and Tom appeared to be talking earnestly. Martin was out of spirits and out of humour, and took everyIt was the least cheerful day they had yet passed together.Martin had taken off his greatcoat, the wind being now behindthem, and carried it upon his arm. As he looked, he saw those of young Westlock; much to his own disadvantage al-opportunity of comparing his condition and prospects withTom relieve him of it, after a faint resistance, and, throwing it ways. This mood of his depressed Tom; and neither thatupon his own, encumber himself with the weight of both. morning’s parting, nor yesterday’s dinner, helped to mendThis trivial incident impressed the old pupil mightily, for he the matter. So the hours dragged on heavily enough; and theystood there, gazing after them, until they were hidden from were glad to go to bed early.his view; when he shook his head, as if he were troubled by They were not quite so glad to get up again at half-pastsome uneasy reflection, and thoughtfully retraced his steps to four o’clock, in all the shivering discomfort of a dark winter’sSalisbury.morning; but they turned out punctually, and were at theIn the meantime, Martin and Tom pursued their way, until finger-post full half-an-hour before the appointed time. Itthey halted, safe and sound, at Mr Pecksniff’s house, where a was not by any means a lively morning, for the sky was black212

Charles Dickensand cloudy, and it rained hard; but Martin said there was ‘Oh!’ said Mr Pecksniff, looking not so much at Martin assome satisfaction in seeing that brute of a horse (by this, he at the spot on which he stood. ‘Oh! Indeed. Do me the favourmeant Mr Pecksniff’s Arab steed) getting very wet; and that to see to the trunks, if you please, Mr Pinch.’he rejoiced, on his account, that it rained so fast. From this it Then Mr Pecksniff descended, and helped his daughters tomay be inferred that Martin’s spirits had not improved, as alight; but neighter he nor the young ladies took the slightestindeed they had not; for while he and Mr Pinch stood waitingunder a hedge, looking at the rain, the gig, the cart, and its but was repulsed by Mr Pecksniff’s standing immediatelynotice of Martin, who had advanced to offer his assistance,reeking driver, he did nothing but grumble; and, but that it is before his person, with his back towards him. In the sameindispensable to any dispute that there should be two parties manner, and in profound silence, Mr Pecksniff handed histo it, he would certainly have picked a quarrel with Tom. daughters into the gig; and following himself and taking theAt length the noise of wheels was faintly audible in the reins, drove off home.distance and presently the coach came splashing through the Lost in astonishment, Martin stood staring at the coach,mud and mire with one miserable outside passenger crouchingdown among wet straw, under a saturated umbrella; and luggage, until the cart moved off too; when he said to Tom:and when the coach had driven away, at Mr Pinch, and thethe coachman, guard, and horses, in a fellowship of dripping ‘Now will you have the goodness to tell me what this portends?’wretchedness. Immediately on its stopping, Mr Pecksniff letdown the window-glass and hailed Tom Pinch.‘What?’ asked Tom.‘Dear me, Mr Pinch! Is it possible that you are out upon ‘This fellow’s behaviour. Mr Pecksniff’s, I mean. You sawthis very inclement morning?’it?’‘Yes, sir,’ cried Tom, advancing eagerly, ‘Mr Chuzzlewit and ‘No. Indeed I did not,’ cried Tom. ‘I was busy with theI, sir.’trunks.’213

Martin Chuzzlewit‘It is no matter,’ said Martin. ‘Come! Let us make haste Tom saw that Martin looked at Mr Pecksniff as though heback!’ And without another word started off at such a pace, could have easily found it in his heart to give him an invitationto a very warm place; but he was quite silent, and stand-that Tom had some difficulty in keeping up with him.He had no care where he went, but walked through little ing opposite that gentleman at the table, regarded him attentively.heaps of mud and little pools of water with the utmost indifference;looking straight before him, and sometimes laughingin a strange manner within himself. Tom felt that any-please. How have things gone on in our absence, Mr Pinch?’‘Take a chair, Pinch,’ said Pecksniff. ‘Take a chair, if youthing he could say would only render him the more obstinate,and therefore trusted to Mr Pecksniff’s manner when school, sir,’ said Tom. ‘It’s nearly finished.’‘You—you will be very much pleased with the grammar-they reached the house, to remove the mistaken impression ‘If you will have the goodness, Mr Pinch,’ said Pecksniff,under which he felt convinced so great a favourite as the new waving his hand and smiling, ‘we will not discuss anythingpupil must unquestionably be labouring. But he was not a connected with that question at present. What have you beenlittle amazed himself, when they did reach it, and entered the doing, Thomas, humph?’parlour where Mr Pecksniff was sitting alone before the fire, Mr Pinch looked from master to pupil, and from pupil todrinking some hot tea, to find that instead of taking favourable master, and was so perplexed and dismayed that he wantednotice of his relative and keeping him, Mr Pinch, in the background,he did exactly the reverse, and was so lavish in his interval, Mr Pecksniff (who was perfectly conscious ofpresence of mind to answer the question. In this awkwardattentions to Tom, that Tom was thoroughly confounded. Martin’s gaze, though he had never once glanced towards him)‘Take some tea, Mr Pinch—take some tea,’ said Pecksniff, poked the fire very much, and when he couldn’t do that anystirring the fire. ‘You must be very cold and damp. Pray take more, drank tea assiduously.some tea, and come into a warm place, Mr Pinch.’‘Now, Mr Pecksniff,’ said Martin at last, in a very quiet214

Charles Dickensvoice, ‘if you have sufficiently refreshed and recovered yourself,I shall be glad to hear what you mean by this treatment do. I must trouble you to talk to me at once.’‘You are very obliging,’ returned Martin; ‘presently will notof me.’Mr Pecksniff made a feint of being deeply interested in his‘And what,’ said Mr Pecksniff, turning his eyes on Tom pocketbook, but it shook in his hands; he trembled so.Pinch, even more placidly and gently than before, ‘what have ‘Now,’ retorted Martin, rapping the table again. ‘Now. Presentlywill not do. Now!’YOU been doing, Thomas, humph?’When he had repeated this inquiry, he looked round the ‘Do you threaten me, sir?’ cried Mr Pecksniff.walls of the room as if he were curious to see whether any Martin looked at him, and made no answer; but a curiousnails had been left there by accident in former times. observer might have detected an ominous twitching at hisTom was almost at his wit’s end what to say between the mouth, and perhaps an involuntary attraction of his right handtwo, and had already made a gesture as if he would call Mr in the direction of Mr Pecksniff’s cravat.Pecksniff’s attention to the gentleman who had last addressed ‘I lament to be obliged to say, sir,’ resumed Mr Pecksniff,him, when Martin saved him further trouble, by doing so ‘that it would be quite in keeping with your character if youhimself.did threaten me. You have deceived me. You have imposed‘Mr Pecksniff,’ he said, softly rapping the table twice or upon a nature which you knew to be confiding and unsuspicious.You have obtained admission, sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff,thrice, and moving a step or two nearer, so that he could havetouched him with his hand; ‘you heard what I said just now. rising, ‘to this house, on perverted statements and on falseDo me the favour to reply, if you please. I ask you’—he raised pretences.’his voice a little here—’what you mean by this?’‘Go on,’ said Martin, with a scornful smile. ‘I understand‘I will talk to you, sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff in a severe voice, as you now. What more?’he looked at him for the first time, ‘presently.’‘Thus much more, sir,’ cried Mr Pecksniff, trembling from215

Martin Chuzzlewithead to foot, and trying to rub his hands, as though he were ing, tumbled over a chair, and fell in a sitting posture on theonly cold. ‘Thus much more, if you force me to publish your ground; where he remained without an effort to get up again,shame before a third party, which I was unwilling and indisposedto do. This lowly roof, sir, must not be contaminated place.with his head in a corner, perhaps considering it the safestby the presence of one who has deceived, and cruelly deceived, ‘Let me go, Pinch!’ cried Martin, shaking him away. ‘Whyan honourable, beloved, venerated, and venerable gentleman; do you hold me? Do you think a blow could make him aand who wisely suppressed that deceit from me when he more abject creature than he is? Do you think that if I spatsought my protection and favour, knowing that, humble as I upon him, I could degrade him to a lower level than his own?am, I am an honest man, seeking to do my duty in this carnal Look at him. Look at him, Pinch!’universe, and setting my face against all vice and treachery. I Mr Pinch involuntarily did so. Mr Pecksniff sitting, as hasweep for your depravity, sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff; ‘I mourn been already mentioned, on the carpet, with his head in anover your corruption, I pity your voluntary withdrawal of acute angle of the wainscot, and all the damage and detrimentyourself from the flowery paths of purity and peace;’ here he of an uncomfortable journey about him, was not exactly astruck himself upon his breast, or moral garden; ‘but I cannot model of all that is prepossessing and dignified in man, certainly.Still he WAS Pecksniff; it was impossible to deprivehave a leper and a serpent for an inmate. Go forth,’ said MrPecksniff, stretching out his hand: ‘go forth, young man! Like him of that unique and paramount appeal to Tom. And heall who know you, I renounce you!’returned Tom’s glance, as if he would have said, ‘Aye, MrWith what intention Martin made a stride forward at these Pinch, look at me! Here I am! You know what the Poet sayswords, it is impossible to say. It is enough to know that Tom about an honest man; and an honest man is one of the fewPinch caught him in his arms, and that, at the same moment, great works that can be seen for nothing! Look at me!’Mr Pecksniff stepped back so hastily, that he missed his foot-‘I tell you,’ said Martin, ‘that as he lies there, disgraced,216

Charles Dickensbought, used; a cloth for dirty hands, a mat for dirty feet, a ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Yes, I do. I’ll go to America!’lying, fawning, servile hound, he is the very last and worst ‘No, no,’ cried Tom, in a kind of agony. ‘Don’t go there.among the vermin of the world. And mark me, Pinch! The Pray don’t. Think better of it. Don’t be so dreadfully regardlessof yourself. Don’t go to America!’day will come—he knows it; see it written on his face, whileI speak!—when even you will find him out, and will know ‘My mind is made up,’ he said. ‘Your friend was right. I’llhim as I do, and as he knows I do. HE renounce me! Cast go to America. God bless you, Pinch!’your eyes on the Renouncer, Pinch, and be the wiser for the ‘Take this!’ cried Tom, pressing a book upon him in greatrecollection!’agitation. ‘I must make haste back, and can’t say anything IHe pointed at him as he spoke, with unutterable contempt, would. Heaven be with you. Look at the leaf I have turnedand flinging his hat upon his head, walked from the room down. Good-bye, good-bye!’and from the house. He went so rapidly that he was already The simple fellow wrung him by the hand, with tears stealingdown his cheeks; and they parted hurriedly upon theirclear of the village, when he heard Tom Pinch calling breathlesslyafter him in the distance.separate ways.‘Well! what now?’ he said, when Tom came up.‘Dear, dear!’ cried Tom, ‘are you going?’‘Going!’ he echoed. ‘Going!’‘I didn’t so much mean that, as were you going now atonce—in this bad weather—on foot—without yourclothes—with no money?’ cried Tom.‘Yes,’ he answered sternly, ‘I am.’‘And where?’ cried Tom. ‘Oh where will you go?’217

CHAPTER THIRTEENSHOWING WHAT BECAME OF MARTINAND HIS DESPARATE RESOLVE, AFTERHE LEFT MR PECKSNIFF’S HOUSE; WHATPERSONS HE ENCOUNTERED; WHATANXIETIES HE SUFFERED; AND WHATNEWS HE HEARDCARRYING TOM PINCH’S book quite unconsciously under hisarm, and not even buttoning his coat as a protection againstthe heavy rain, Martin went doggedly forward at the samequick pace, until he had passed the finger-post, and was onthe high road to London. He slackened very little in his speedeven then, but he began to think, and look about him, and todisengage his senses from the coil of angry passions whichhitherto had held them prisoner.It must be confessed that, at that moment, he had no veryagreeable employment either for his moral or his physicalperceptions. The day was dawning from a patch of waterylight in the east, and sullen clouds came driving up before it,Martin Chuzzlewit218from which the rain descended in a thick, wet mist. It streamedfrom every twig and bramble in the hedge; made little gulliesin the path; ran down a hundred channels in the road; andpunched innumerable holes into the face of every pond andgutter. It fell with an oozy, slushy sound among the grass; andmade a muddy kennel of every furrow in the ploughed fields.No living creature was anywhere to be seen. The prospectcould hardly have been more desolate if animated nature hadbeen dissolved in water, and poured down upon the earthagain in that form.The range of view within the solitary traveller was quite ascheerless as the scene without. Friendless and penniless; incensedto the last degree; deeply wounded in his pride andself-love; full of independent schemes, and perfectly destituteof any means of realizing them; his most vindictive enemymight have been satisfied with the extent of his troubles. Toadd to his other miseries, he was by this time sensible of beingwet to the skin, and cold at his very heart.In this deplorable condition he remembered Mr Pinch’sbook; more because it was rather troublesome to carry, thanfrom any hope of being comforted by that parting gift. He

Charles Dickenslooked at the dingy lettering on the back, and finding it to be Martin felt keenly for himself, and he felt this good deed ofan odd volume of the ‘Bachelor of Salamanca,’ in the French Tom’s keenly. After a few minutes it had the effect of raisingtongue, cursed Tom Pinch’s folly twenty times. He was on his spirits, and reminding him that he was not altogether destitute,as he had left a fair stock of clothes behind him, andthe point of throwing it away, in his ill-humour and vexation,when he bethought himself that Tom had referred him wore a gold hunting-watch in his pocket. He found a curiousto a leaf, turned down; and opening it at that place, that he gratification, too, in thinking what a winning fellow he mustmight have additional cause of complaint against him for supposingthat any cold scrap of the Bachelor’s wisdom could ing how superior he was to Tom; and how much more likelybe to have made such an impression on Tom; and in reflect-cheer him in such circumstances, found!—to make his way in the world. Animated by these thoughts,Well, well! not much, but Tom’s all. The half-sovereign. He and strengthened in his design of endeavouring to push hishad wrapped it hastily in a piece of paper, and pinned it to the fortune in another country, he resolved to get to London as aleaf. These words were scrawled in pencil on the inside: ‘I don’t rallying-point, in the best way he could; and to lose no timewant it indeed. I should not know what to do with it if I had it.’ about it.There are some falsehoods, Tom, on which men mount, as He was ten good miles from the village made illustrious byon bright wings, towards Heaven. There are some truths, cold being the abiding-place of Mr Pecksniff, when he stopped tobitter taunting truths, wherein your worldly scholars are very breakfast at a little roadside alehouse; and resting upon a highbackedsettle before the fire, pulled off his coat, and hung itapt and punctual, which bind men down to earth with leadenchains. Who would not rather have to fan him, in his dying before the cheerful blaze to dry. It was a very different placehour, the lightest feather of a falsehood such as thine, than all from the last tavern in which he had regaled; boasting nothe quills that have been plucked from the sharp porcupine, greater extent of accommodation than the brick-flooredreproachful truth, since time began!kitchen yielded; but the mind so soon accommodates itself219

Martin Chuzzlewitto the necessities of the body, that this poor waggoner’s houseof-call,which he would have despised yesterday, became now wheels called his attention to the window out of its regulartimes, as if it were a matter of necessity, when the sound ofquite a choice hotel; while his dish of eggs and bacon, and his turn; and there he beheld a kind of light van drawn by fourmug of beer, were not by any means the coarse fare he had horses, and laden, as well as he could see (for it was coveredsupposed, but fully bore out the inscription on the windowshutter,which proclaimed those viands to be ‘Good enter-at the door to water his team, and presently came stampingin), with corn and straw. The driver, who was alone, stoppedtainment for Travellers.’and shaking the wet off his hat and coat, into the room whereHe pushed away his empty plate; and with a second mug Martin sat.upon the hearth before him, looked thoughtfully at the fire He was a red-faced burly young fellow; smart in his way,until his eyes ached. Then he looked at the highly-coloured and with a good-humoured countenance. As he advanced towardsthe fire he touched his shining forehead with the fore-scripture pieces on the walls, in little black frames like commonshaving-glasses, and saw how the Wise Men (with a strong finger of his stiff leather glove, by way of salutation; and saidfamily likeness among them) worshipped in a pink manger; (rather unnecessarily) that it was an uncommon wet day.and how the Prodigal Son came home in red rags to a purple ‘Very wet,’ said Martin.father, and already feasted his imagination on a sea-green calf. ‘I don’t know as ever I see a wetter.’Then he glanced through the window at the falling rain, comingdown aslant upon the sign-post over against the house, The driver glanced at Martin’s soiled dress, and his damp‘I never felt one,’ said Martin.and overflowing the horse-trough; and then he looked at the shirt-sleeves, and his coat hung up to dry; and said, after afire again, and seemed to descry a double distant London, pause, as he warmed his hands:retreating among the fragments of the burning wood. ‘You have been caught in it, sir?’He had repeated this process in just the same order, many ‘Yes,’ was the short reply.220

Charles Dickens‘Out riding, maybe?’ said the drivermanner afterwards, as if he would have added, ‘Now you‘I should have been, if I owned a horse; but I don’t,’ returnedMartin.changed his tune, and whistled a little louder.know all about it.’ put his hands deeper into his pockets;‘That’s bad,’ said the driver.‘I’m going up,’ observed the driver; ‘Hounslow, ten miles‘And may be worse,’ said Martin.this side London.’Now the driver said ‘That’s bad,’ not so much because ‘Are you?’ cried Martin, stopping short and looking at him.Martin didn’t own a horse, as because he said he didn’t with The driver sprinkled the fire with his wet hat until it hissedall the reckless desperation of his mood and circumstances, again and answered, ‘Aye, to be sure he was.’and so left a great deal to be inferred. Martin put his hands in ‘Why, then,’ said Martin, ‘I’ll be plain with you. You mayhis pockets and whistled when he had retorted on the driver; suppose from my dress that I have money to spare. I havethus giving him to understand that he didn’t care a pin for not. All I can afford for coach-hire is a crown, for I have butFortune; that he was above pretending to be her favourite two. If you can take me for that, and my waistcoat, or thiswhen he was not; and that he snapped his fingers at her, the silk handkerchief, do. If you can’t, leave it alone.’driver, and everybody else.‘Short and sweet,’ remarked the driver.The driver looked at him stealthily for a minute or so; and ‘You want more?’ said Martin. ‘Then I haven’t got more,in the pauses of his warming whistled too. At length he asked, and I can’t get it, so there’s an end of that.’ Whereupon heas he pointed his thumb towards the road.began to whistle again.‘Up or down?’‘I didn’t say I wanted more, did I?’ asked the driver, with‘Which is up?’ said Martin.something like indignation.‘London, of course,’ said the driver.‘You didn’t say my offer was enough,’ rejoined Martin.‘Up then,’ said Martin. He tossed his head in a careless ‘Why, how could I, when you wouldn’t let me? In regard to221

Martin Chuzzlewitthe waistcoat, I wouldn’t have a man’s waistcoat, much less a He was frequently up and down the road on such errands, hegentleman’s waistcoat, on my mind, for no consideration; said, and to look after the sick and rest horses, of which animalshe had much to relate that occupied a long time in thebut the silk handkerchief’s another thing; and if you was satisfiedwhen we got to Hounslow, I shouldn’t object to that as telling. He aspired to the dignity of the regular box, and expectedan appointment on the first vacancy. He was musicala gift.’‘Is it a bargain, then?’ said Martin.besides, and had a little key-bugle in his pocket, on which,‘Yes, it is,’ returned the other.whenever the conversation flagged, he played the first part of a‘Then finish this beer,’ said Martin, handing him the mug, and great many tunes, and regularly broke down in the second.pulling on his coat with great alacrity; ‘and let us be off as soon as ‘Ah!’ said Bill, with a sigh, as he drew the back of his handyou like.’across his lips, and put this instrument in his pocket, afterIn two minutes more he had paid his bill, which amounted screwing off the mouth-piece to drain it; ‘Lummy Ned ofto a shilling; was lying at full length on a truss of straw, high the Light Salisbury, HE was the one for musical talents. Heand dry at the top of the van, with the tilt a little open in was a guard. What you may call a Guard’an Angel, was Ned.’front for the convenience of talking to his new friend; and ‘Is he dead?’ asked Martin.was moving along in the right direction with a most satisfactoryand encouraging briskness.‘Not he. You won’t catch Ned a-dying easy. No, no. He knows‘Dead!’ replied the other, with a contemptuous emphasis.The driver’s name, as he soon informed Martin, was WilliamSimmons, better known as Bill; and his spruce appearance ‘You spoke of him in the past tense,’ observed Martin, ‘so Ibetter than that.’was sufficiently explained by his connection with a large stagecoachingestablishment at Hounslow, whither he was convey-‘He’s no more in England,’ said Bill, ‘if that’s what yousupposed he was no more.ing his load from a farm belonging to the concern in Wiltshire. mean. He went to the U-nited States.’222

Charles Dickens‘Did he?’ asked Martin, with sudden interest. ‘When?’ up the President, so I suppose it was something in the public‘Five year ago, or then about,’ said Bill. ‘He had set up in line; or free-and-easy way again. Anyhow, he made his fortune.’the public line here, and couldn’t meet his engagements, so hecut off to Liverpool one day, without saying anything about ‘No!’ cried Martin.it, and went and shipped himself for the U-nited States.’ ‘Yes, he did,’ said Bill. ‘I know that, because he lost it all the‘Well?’ said Martin.day after, in six-and-twenty banks as broke. He settled a lot‘Well! as he landed there without a penny to bless himself of the notes on his father, when it was ascertained that theywith, of course they wos very glad to see him in the U-nited was really stopped and sent ‘em over with a dutiful letter. IStates.’know that, because they was shown down our yard for the‘What do you mean?’ asked Martin, with some scorn. old gentleman’s benefit, that he might treat himself with tobaccoin the workus.’‘What do I mean?’ said Bill. ‘Why, that. All men are alikein the U-nited States, an’t they? It makes no odds whether a ‘He was a foolish fellow not to take care of his money whenman has a thousand pound, or nothing, there. Particular in he had it,’ said Martin, indignantly.New York, I’m told, where Ned landed.’‘There you’re right,’ said Bill, ‘especially as it was all in paper,and he might have took care of it so very easy, by folding‘New York, was it?’ asked Martin, thoughtfully.‘Yes,’ said Bill. ‘New York. I know that, because he sent it up in a small parcel.’word home that it brought Old York to his mind, quite vivid, Martin said nothing in reply, but soon afterwards fell asleep,in consequence of being so exactly unlike it in every respect. I and remained so for an hour or more. When he awoke, findingit had ceased to rain, he took his seat beside the driver, anddon’t understand what particular business Ned turned hismind to, when he got there; but he wrote home that him and asked him several questions; as how long had the fortunatehis friends was always a-singing, Ale Columbia, and blowing guard of the Light Salisbury been in crossing the Atlantic; at223

Martin Chuzzlewitwhat time of the year had he sailed; what was the name of the the dark street, with a pretty strong sense of being shut out,ship in which he made the voyage; how much had he paid for alone, upon the dreary world, without the key of it.passage-money; did he suffer greatly from sea-sickness? and But in this moment of despondency, and often afterwards,so forth. But on these points of detail his friend was possessedof little or no information; either answering obviously awakening in his breast an indignation that was very whole-the recollection of Mr Pecksniff operated as a cordial to him;at random or acknowledging that he had never heard, or had some in nerving him to obstinate endurance. Under the influenceof this fiery dram he started off for London withoutforgotten; nor, although he returned to the charge very often,could he obtain any useful intelligence on these essential particulars.knowing where to find a tavern open, he was fain to strollmore ado. Arriving there in the middle of the night, and notThey jogged on all day, and stopped so often—now to refresh,now to change their team of horses, now to exchange He found himself, about an hour before dawn, in the hum-about the streets and market-places until morning.or bring away a set of harness, now on one point of business, bler regions of the Adelphi; and addressing himself to a manand now upon another, connected with the coaching on that in a fur-cap, who was taking down the shutters of an obscureline of road—that it was midnight when they reached public-house, informed him that he was a stranger, and inquiredif he could have a bed there. It happened by good luckHounslow. A little short of the stables for which the van wasbound, Martin got down, paid his crown, and forced his silk that he could. Though none of the gaudiest, it was tolerablyhandkerchief upon his honest friend, notwithstanding the clean, and Martin felt very glad and grateful when he creptmany protestations that he didn’t wish to deprive him of it, into it, for warmth, rest, and forgetfulness.with which he tried to give the lie to his longing looks. That It was quite late in the afternoon when he awoke; and bydone, they parted company; and when the van had driven the time he had washed and dressed, and broken his fast, itinto its own yard and the gates were closed, Martin stood in was growing dusk again. This was all the better, for it was224

Charles Dickensnow a matter of absolute necessity that he should part with Martin drew back involuntarily, for he knew the voice athis watch to some obliging pawn-broker. He would have once.waited until after dark for this purpose, though it had been ‘You’re always full of your chaff,’ said the shopman, rollingthe longest day in the year, and he had begun it without a up the article (which looked like a shirt) quite as a matter ofbreakfast.course, and nibbing his pen upon the counter.He passed more Golden Balls than all the jugglers in Europe ‘I shall never be full of my wheat,’ said Mr Tigg, ‘as long ashave juggled with, in the course of their united performances, I come here. Ha, ha! Not bad! Make it two-and-six, my dearbefore he could determine in favour of any particular shop where friend, positively for this occasion only. Half-a-crown is athose symbols were displayed. In the end he came back to one delightful coin. Two-and-six. Going at two-and-six! For theof the first he had seen, and entering by a side-door in a court, last time at two-and-six!’where the three balls, with the legend ‘Money Lent,’ were repeatedin a ghastly transparency, passed into one of a series of the shopman. ‘It’s grown yellow in the service as it is.’‘It’ll never be the last time till it’s quite worn out,’ rejoinedlittle closets, or private boxes, erected for the accommodation ‘Its master has grown yellow in the service, if you meanof the more bashful and uninitiated customers. He bolted himselfin; pulled out his watch; and laid it on the counter. ungrateful country. You are making it two-and-six, I think?’that, my friend,’ said Mr Tigg; ‘in the patriotic service of an‘Upon my life and soul!’ said a low voice in the next box to ‘I’m making it,’ returned the shopman, ‘what it always hasthe shopman who was in treaty with him, ‘you must make it been—two shillings. Same name as usual, I suppose?’more; you must make it a trifle more, you must indeed! You ‘Still the same name,’ said Mr Tigg; ‘my claim to the dormantpeerage not being yet established by the House of Lords.’must dispense with one half-quarter of an ounce in weighingout your pound of flesh, my best of friends, and make it ‘The old address?’two-and-six.’‘Not at all,’ said Mr Tigg; ‘I have removed my town estab-225

Martin Chuzzlewitlishment from thirty-eight, Mayfair, to number fifteen-hundred-and-forty-two,Park Lane.’own head was, ‘but this is one of the most tremendous meet-far that his head was as much in Martin’s little cell as Martin’s‘Come, I’m not going to put down that, you know,’ said ings in Ancient or Modern History! How are you? What isthe shopman with a grin.the news from the agricultural districts? How are our friends‘You may put down what you please, my friend,’ quoth Mr the P.’s? Ha, ha! David, pay particular attention to this gentlemanimmediately, as a friend of mine, I beg.’Tigg. ‘The fact is still the same. The apartments for the under-butlerand the fifth footman being of a most confounded ‘Here! Please to give me the most you can for this,’ saidlow and vulgar kind at thirty-eight, Mayfair, I have been compelled,in my regard for the feelings which do them so much sorely.’Martin, handing the watch to the shopman. ‘I want moneyhonour, to take on lease for seven, fourteen, or twenty-one ‘He wants money, sorely!’ cried Mr Tigg with excessive sympathy.‘David, will you have the goodness to do your very ut-years, renewable at the option of the tenant, the elegant andcommodious family mansion, number fifteen-hundred-andforty-twoPark Lane. Make it two-and-six, and come and see with my friend as if he were myself. A gold hunting-watch,most for my friend, who wants money sorely. You will dealme!’David, engine-turned, capped and jewelled in four holes, escapemovement, horizontal lever, and warranted to performThe shopman was so highly entertained by this piece ofhumour that Mr Tigg himself could not repress some little correctly, upon my personal reputation, who have observed itshow of exultation. It vented itself, in part, in a desire to see narrowly for many years, under the most trying circumstances’—herehe winked at Martin, that he might understandhow the occupant of the next box received his pleasantry; toascertain which he glanced round the partition, and immediately,by the gaslight, recognized Martin.shopman; ‘what do you say, David, to my friend? Be very par-this recommendation would have an immense effect upon the‘I wish I may die,’ said Mr Tigg, stretching out his body so ticular to deserve my custom and recommendation, David.’226

Charles Dickens‘I can lend you three pounds on this, if you like’ said the ‘You oblige me very much’ said Mr Tigg. ‘Thank you.’shopman to Martin, confidentially. ‘It is very old-fashioned. ‘Now, sir,’ observed Martin, biting his lip, ‘this is a largeI couldn’t say more.’town, and we can easily find different ways in it. If you will‘And devilish handsome, too,’ cried Mr Tigg. ‘Two-twelvesixfor the watch, and seven-and-six for personal regard. I am Mr Tigg was about to speak, but Martin interposed:show me which is your way, I will take another.’gratified; it may be weakness, but I am. Three pounds will ‘I need scarcely tell you, after what you have just seen, thatdo. We take it. The name of my friend is Smivey: Chicken I have nothing to bestow upon your friend Mr Slyme. And itSmivey, of Holborn, twenty-six-and-a-half B: lodger.’ Here is quite as unnecessary for me to tell you that I don’t desirehe winked at Martin again, to apprise him that all the forms the honour of your company.’and ceremonies prescribed by law were now complied with, ‘Stop’ cried Mr Tigg, holding out his hand. ‘Hold! There is aand nothing remained but the receipt for the money. most remarkably long-headed, flowing-bearded, and patriarchalproverb, which observes that it is the duty of a man to beIn point of fact, this proved to be the case, for Martin, who hadno resource but to take what was offered him, signified his acquiescenceby a nod of his head, and presently came out with the cash ous presently. Do not confuse me with the man Slyme. Dojust before he is generous. Be just now, and you can be gener-in his pocket. He was joined in the entry by Mr Tigg, who warmly not distinguish the man Slyme as a friend of mine, for he is nocongratulated him, as he took his arm and accompanied him into such thing. I have been compelled, sir, to abandon the partythe street, on the successful issue of the negotiation.whom you call Slyme. I have no knowledge of the party whom‘As for my part in the same,’ said Mr Tigg, ‘don’t mention you call Slyme. I am, sir,’ said Mr Tigg, striking himself uponit. Don’t compliment me, for I can’t bear it!’the breast, ‘a premium tulip, of a very different growth and‘I have no such intention, I assure you,’ retorted Martin, cultivation from the cabbage Slyme, sir.’releasing his arm and stopping.‘It matters very little to me,’ said Martin coolly, ‘whether227

Martin Chuzzlewityou have set up as a vagabond on your own account, or are ner of a pieman, and buttoned it up. Finally, he raised his hatstill trading on behalf of Mr Slyme. I wish to hold no correspondencewith you. In the devil’s name, man’ said Martin, pausing a moment with deep gravity, as to decide in whichan inch or two from his head with a military air, and, afterscarcely able, despite his vexation, to repress a smile as Mr direction he should go, and to what Earl or Marquis amongTigg stood leaning his back against the shutters of a shop his friends he should give the preference in his next call, stuckwindow, adjusting his hair with great composure, ‘will you his hands in his skirt-pockets and swaggered round the corner.Martin took the directly opposite course; and so, to hisgo one way or other?’‘You will allow me to remind you, sir,’ said Mr Tigg, with great content, they parted company.sudden dignity, ‘that you—not I—that you—I say emphatically,YOU—have reduced the proceedings of this evening to again and again, the mischance of having encountered thisIt was with a bitter sense of humiliation that he cursed,a cold and distant matter of business, when I was disposed to man in the pawnbroker’s shop. The only comfort he had inplace them on a friendly footing. It being made a matter of the recollection was, Mr Tigg’s voluntary avowal of a separationbetween himself and Slyme, that would at least preventbusiness, sir, I beg to say that I expect a trifle (which I shallbestow in charity) as commission upon the pecuniary advance, his circumstances (so Martin argued) from being known toin which I have rendered you my humble services. After the any member of his family, the bare possibility of which filledterms in which you have addressed me, sir,’ concluded Mr him with shame and wounded pride. Abstractedly there wasTigg, ‘you will not insult me, if you please, by offering more greater reason, perhaps, for supposing any declaration of Mrthan half-a-crown.’Tigg’s to be false, than for attaching the least credence to it;Martin drew that piece of money from his pocket, and but remembering the terms on which the intimacy betweentossed it towards him. Mr Tigg caught it, looked at it to that gentleman and his bosom friend had subsisted, and theassure himself of its goodness, spun it in the air after the man-strong probability of Mr Tigg’s having established an inde-228

Charles Dickenspendent business of his own on Mr Slyme’s connection, it to the narrowest limits consistent with decent respectability,had a reasonable appearance of probability; at all events, Martinhoped so; and that went a long way.shop, for conversion into money.and carried the overplus at different times to the pawnbroker’sHis first step, now that he had a supply of ready money for And it was strange, very strange, even to himself, to findhis present necessities, was, to retain his bed at the publichouseuntil further notice, and to write a formal note to Tom his delicacy and self-respect, and gradually came to do that ashow, by quick though almost imperceptible degrees, he lostPinch (for he knew Pecksniff would see it) requesting to have a matter of course, without the least compunction, whichhis clothes forwarded to London by coach, with a direction but a few short days before had galled him to the quick. Theto be left at the office until called for. These measures taken, first time he visited the pawnbroker’s, he felt on his way therehe passed the interval before the box arrived—three days—in as if every person whom he passed suspected whither he wasmaking inquiries relative to American vessels, at the offices of going; and on his way back again, as if the whole human tidevarious shipping-agents in the city; and in lingering about the he stemmed, knew well where he had come from. When diddocks and wharves, with the faint hope of stumbling upon he care to think of their discernment now! In his first wanderingsup and down the weary streets, he counterfeited thesome engagement for the voyage, as clerk or supercargo, orcustodian of something or somebody, which would enable walk of one who had an object in his view; but soon therehim to procure a free passage. But finding, soon, that no such came upon him the sauntering, slipshod gait of listless idleness,and the lounging at street-corners, and plucking and bit-means of employment were likely to present themselves, anddreading the consequences of delay, he drew up a short advertisement,stating what he wanted, and inserted it in the lead-place, and looking into the same shop-windows, with a misingof stray bits of straw, and strolling up and down the sameing newspapers. Pending the receipt of the twenty or thirty erable indifference, fifty times a day. At first, he came outanswers which he vaguely expected, he reduced his wardrobe from his lodging with an uneasy sense of being observed—229

Martin Chuzzlewiteven by those chance passers-by, on whom he had never looked mine, the mill, the forge, the squalid depths of deepest ignorance,and uttermost abyss of man’s neglect, and say can anybefore, and hundreds to one would never see again—issuingin the morning from a public-house; but now, in his comingsoutand goings-in he did not mind to lounge about the door, soul’s bright torch as fast as it is kindled! And, oh! ye Phari-hopeful plant spring up in air so foul that it extinguishes theor to stand sunning himself in careless thought beside the sees of the nineteen hundredth year of Christian Knowledge,wooden stem, studded from head to heel with pegs, on which who soundingly appeal to human nature, see that it be humanfirst. Take heed it has not been transformed, during yourthe beer-pots dangled like so many boughs upon a pewtertree.And yet it took but five weeks to reach the lowest round slumber and the sleep of generations, into the nature of theof this tall ladder!Beasts!Oh, moralists, who treat of happiness and self-respect, innatein every sphere of life, and shedding light on every grain had come. His money—even the additional stock he had raisedFive weeks! Of all the twenty or thirty answers, not oneof dust in God’s highway, so smooth below your carriagewheels,so rough beneath the tread of naked feet, bethink for clothes, though dear to buy, are cheap to pawn)—was fastfrom the disposal of his spare clothes (and that was not much,yourselves in looking on the swift descent of men who HAVE diminishing. Yet what could he do? At times an agony camelived in their own esteem, that there are scores of thousands over him in which he darted forth again, though he was butbreathing now, and breathing thick with painful toil, who in newly home, and, returning to some place where he had beenthat high respect have never lived at all, nor had a chance of already twenty times, made some new attempt to gain hislife! Go ye, who rest so placidly upon the sacred Bard who end, but always unsuccessfully. He was years and years toohad been young, and when he strung his harp was old, and old for a cabin-boy, and years upon years too inexperiencedhad never seen the righteous forsaken, or his seed begging to be accepted as a common seaman. His dress and manner,their bread; go, Teachers of content and honest pride, into the too, militated fatally against any such proposal as the latter;230

Charles Dickensand yet he was reduced to making it; for even if he could have mind to write to Pinch and inquire where he was to be found.contemplated the being set down in America totally without For although, as we have seen, he was fond of Tom after hismoney, he had not enough left now for a steerage passage and own fashion, he could not endure the thought (feeling sothe poorest provisions upon the voyage.superior to Tom) of making him the stepping-stone to hisIt is an illustration of a very common tendency in the mind fortune, or being anything to him but a patron; and his prideof man, that all this time he never once doubted, one may so revolted from the idea that it restrained him even now.almost say the certainty of doing great things in the New It might have yielded, however; and no doubt must have yieldedWorld, if he could only get there. In proportion as he became soon, but for a very strange and unlooked-for occurrence.more and more dejected by his present circumstances, and The five weeks had quite run out, and he was in a trulythe means of gaining America receded from his grasp, the desperate plight, when one evening, having just returned tomore he fretted himself with the conviction that that was the his lodging, and being in the act of lighting his candle at theonly place in which he could hope to achieve any high end, gas jet in the bar before stalking moodily upstairs to his ownand worried his brain with the thought that men going there room, his landlord called him by his name. Now as he hadin the meanwhile might anticipate him in the attainment of never told it to the man, but had scrupulously kept it to himself,he was not a little startled by this; and so plainly showedthose objects which were dearest to his heart. He often thoughtof John Westlock, and besides looking out for him on all his agitation that the landlord, to reassure him, said ‘it wasoccasions, actually walked about London for three days togetherfor the express purpose of meeting with him. But al-‘A letter!’ cried Martin.only a letter.’though he failed in this; and although he would not have ‘For Mr Martin Chuzzlewit,’ said the landlord, reading thescrupled to borrow money of him; and although he believed superscription of one he held in his hand. ‘Noon. Chief office.that John would have lent it; yet still he could not bring his Paid.’231

Martin ChuzzlewitMartin took it from him, thanked him, and walked upstairs. the room full of smoke, which was attributable to two causes;It was not sealed, but pasted close; the handwriting was quite firstly, to the flue being naturally vicious and a smoker; andunknown to him. He opened it and found enclosed, without secondly, to their having forgotten, in lighting the fire, anany name, address, or other inscription or explanation of any odd sack or two and some trifles, which had been put up thekind whatever, a Bank of England note for Twenty Pounds. chimney to keep the rain out. They had already remedied thisTo say that he was perfectly stunned with astonishment oversight, however; and propped up the window-sash with aand delight; that he looked again and again at the note and bundle of firewood to keep it open; so that except in beingthe wrapper; that he hurried below stairs to make quite certainthat the note was a good note; and then hurried up again apartment was quite comfortable.rather inflammatory to the eyes and choking to the lungs, theto satisfy himself for the fiftieth time that he had not overlookedsome scrap of writing on the wrapper; that he ex-less tolerable order, especially when a gleaming pint of porterMartin was in no vein to quarrel with it, if it had been inhausted and bewildered himself with conjectures; and could was set upon the table, and the servant-girl withdrew, bearingmake nothing of it but that there the note was, and he was with her particular instructions relative to the production ofsuddenly enriched; would be only to relate so many matters something hot when he should ring the bell. The cold meatof course to no purpose. The final upshot of the business at being wrapped in a playbill, Martin laid the cloth by spreadingthat document on the little round table with the printthat time was, that he resolved to treat himself to a comfortablebut frugal meal in his own chamber; and having ordered downwards, and arranging the collation upon it. The foot ofa fire to be kindled, went out to purchase it forthwith. the bed, which was very close to the fire, answered for a sideboard;and when he had completed these preparations, heHe bought some cold beef, and ham, and French bread,and butter, and came back with his pockets pretty heavily squeezed an old arm-chair into the warmest corner, and satladen. It was somewhat of a damping circumstance to find down to enjoy himself.232

Charles DickensHe had begun to eat with great appetite, glancing round street, if I’m not mistaken; and when I was a-looking in at thethe room meanwhile with a triumphant anticipation of quittingit for ever on the morrow, when his attention was ar-was very much calculated to make a man jolly, sir—I see youbeef-and-ham shop just now, along with a hungry sweep, asrested by a stealthy footstep on the stairs, and presently by a a-buying that.’knock at his chamber door, which, although it was a gentle Martin reddened as he pointed to the table, and said, somewhatknock enough, communicated such a start to the bundle of hastily:firewood, that it instantly leaped out of window, and plunged ‘Well! What then?’into the street.‘Why, then, sir,’ said Mark, ‘I made bold to foller; and as I‘More coals, I suppose,’ said Martin. ‘Come in!’told ‘em downstairs that you expected me, I was let up.’‘It an’t a liberty, sir, though it seems so,’ rejoined a man’s ‘Are you charged with any message, that you told them youvoice. ‘Your servant, sir. Hope you’re pretty well, sir.’ were expected?’ inquired Martin.Martin stared at the face that was bowing in the doorway, ‘No, sir, I an’t,’ said Mark. ‘That was what you may call aperfectly remembering the features and expression, but quite pious fraud, sir, that was.’forgetting to whom they belonged.Martin cast an angry look at him; but there was something‘Tapley, sir,’ said his visitor. ‘Him as formerly lived at the in the fellow’s merry face, and in his manner—which with allDragon, sir, and was forced to leave in consequence of a want its cheerfulness was far from being obtrusive or familiar—of jollity, sir.’that quite disarmed him. He had lived a solitary life too, for‘To be sure!’ cried Martin. ‘Why, how did you come here?’ many weeks, and the voice was pleasant in his ear.‘Right through the passage, and up the stairs, sir,’ said Mark. ‘Tapley,’ he said, ‘I’ll deal openly with you. From all I can‘How did you find me out, I mean?’ asked Martin. judge and from all I have heard of you through Pinch, you‘Why, sir,’ said Mark, ‘I’ve passed you once or twice in the are not a likely kind of fellow to have been brought here by233

Martin Chuzzlewitimpertinent curiosity or any other offensive motive. Sit down. He said this so pointedly, that Martin stopped in his eating,I’m glad to see you.’and said:‘Thankee, sir,’ said Mark. ‘I’d as lieve stand.’‘If you mean me—’“If you don’t sit down,’ retorted Martin, ‘I’ll not talk to you.’ ‘Yes, I do, sir,’ interposed Mark.‘Very good, sir,’ observed Mark. ‘Your will’s a law, sir. Down ‘Then you may judge from my style of living here, of myit is;’ and he sat down accordingly upon the bedstead. means of keeping a man-servant. Besides, I am going to‘Help yourself,’ said Martin, handing him the only knife. America immediately.’‘Thankee, sir,’ rejoined Mark. ‘After you’ve done.’‘Well, sir,’ returned Mark, quite unmoved by this intelligence‘from all that ever I heard about it, I should say America‘If you don’t take it now, you’ll not have any,’ said Martin.‘Very good, sir,’ rejoined Mark. ‘That being your desire— is a very likely sort of place for me to be jolly in!’now it is.’ With which reply he gravely helped himself and Again Martin looked at him angrily; and again his angerwent on eating. Martin having done the like for a short time melted away in spite of himself.in silence, said abruptly:‘Lord bless you, sir,’ said Mark, ‘what is the use of us a-‘What are you doing in London?’going round and round, and hiding behind the corner, and‘Nothing at all, sir,’ rejoined Mark.dodging up and down, when we can come straight to the‘How’s that?’ asked Martin.point in six words? I’ve had my eye upon you any time this‘I want a place,’ said Mark.fortnight. I see well enough there’s a screw loose in your affairs.I know’d well enough the first time I see you down at‘I’m sorry for you,’ said Martin.‘—To attend upon a single gentleman,’ resumed Mark. ‘If the Dragon that it must be so, sooner or later. Now, sir herefrom the country the more desirable. Makeshifts would be am I, without a sitiwation; without any want of wages for apreferred. Wages no object.’year to come; for I saved up (I didn’t mean to do it, but I234

Charles Dickenscouldn’t help it) at the Dragon—here am I with a liking for gentleman. But all I say is, that if I don’t emigrate to Americawhat’s wentersome, and a liking for you, and a wish to come in that case, in the beastliest old cockle-shell as goes out ofout strong under circumstances as would keep other men port, I’m—’down; and will you take me, or will you leave me?’‘You don’t mean what you say, I’m sure,’ said Martin.‘How can I take you?’ cried Martin.‘Yes I do,’ cried Mark.‘When I say take,’ rejoined Mark, ‘I mean will you let me ‘I tell you I know better,’ rejoined Martin.go? and when I say will you let me go, I mean will you let me ‘Very good, sir,’ said Mark, with the same air of perfectgo along with you? for go I will, somehow or another. Now satisfaction. ‘Let it stand that way at present, sir, and wait andthat you’ve said America, I see clear at once, that that’s the see how it turns out. Why, love my heart alive! the only doubtplace for me to be jolly in. Therefore, if I don’t pay my own I have is, whether there’s any credit in going with a gentlemanpassage in the ship you go in, sir, I’ll pay my own passage in like you, that’s as certain to make his way there as a gimlet isanother. And mark my words, if I go alone it shall be, to carry to go through soft deal.’out the principle, in the rottenest, craziest, leakingest tub of a This was touching Martin on his weak point, and having himwessel that a place can be got in for love or money. So if I’m at a great advantage. He could not help thinking, either, what alost upon the way, sir, there’ll be a drowned man at your brisk fellow this Mark was, and how great a change he haddoor—and always a-knocking double knocks at it, too, or wrought in the atmosphere of the dismal little room already.never trust me!’‘Why, certainly, Mark,’ he said, ‘I have hopes of doing well‘This is mere folly,’ said Martin.there, or I shouldn’t go. I may have the qualifications for doingwell, perhaps.’‘Very good, sir,’ returned Mark. ‘I’m glad to hear it, becauseif you don’t mean to let me go, you’ll be more comfortable, ‘Of course you have, sir,’ returned Mark Tapley. ‘Everybodyknows perhaps, on account of thinking so. Therefore I contradict nothat.’235

Martin Chuzzlewit‘You see,’ said Martin, leaning his chin upon his hand, and tion upwards and with the superscription downwards; andlooking at the fire, ‘ornamental architecture applied to domesticpurposes, can hardly fail to be in great request in that ment at being asked the question, that Martin said, as he tookshook his head with such a genuine expression of astonish-country; for men are constantly changing their residences there, it from him again:and moving further off; and it’s clear they must have houses ‘No, I see you don’t. How should you! Though, indeed,to live in.’your knowing about it would not be more extraordinary than‘I should say, sir,’ observed Mark, ‘that that’s a state of things its being here. Come, Tapley,’ he added, after a moment’sas opens one of the jolliest look-outs for domestic architecturethat ever I heerd tell on.’you’ll see more clearly what sort of fortunes you would linkthought, ‘I’ll trust you with my history, such as it is, and thenMartin glanced at him hastily, not feeling quite free from a yourself to, if you followed me.’suspicion that this remark implied a doubt of the successful ‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ said Mark; ‘but afore you enterissue of his plans. But Mr Tapley was eating the boiled beef upon it will you take me if I choose to go? Will you turn offand bread with such entire good faith and singleness of purposeexpressed in his visage that he could not but be satisfied. well recommended by Mr Pinch, and as wants a gentlemanme—Mark Tapley—formerly of the Blue Dragon, as can beAnother doubt arose in his mind however, as this one disappeared.He produced the blank cover in which the note had ing the ladder as you’re certain to get to the top of, take meof your strength of mind to look up to; or will you, in climb-been enclosed, and fixing his eyes on Mark as he put it in his along with you at a respectful dutance? Now, sir,’ said Mark,hands, said:‘it’s of very little importance to you, I know. there’s the difficulty;but it’s of very great importance to me, and will you be‘Now tell me the truth. Do you know anything about that?’Mark turned it over and over; held it near his eyes; held it so good as to consider of it?’away from him at arm’s length; held it with the superscrip-If this were meant as a second appeal to Martin’s weak side,236

Charles Dickensfounded on his observation of the effect of the first, Mr Tapley having seen (as Martin explained to him) the young lady atwas a skillful and shrewd observer. Whether an intentional or the Blue Dragon.an accidental shot, it hit the mark fully for Martin, relenting ‘And a young lady as any gentleman ought to feel moremore and more, said with a condescension which was inexpressiblydelicious to him, after his recent humiliation: draw breath.’proud of being in love with,’ said Mark, energetically, ‘don’t‘We’ll see about it, Tapley. You shall tell me in what dispositionyou find yourself to-morrow.’at the fire again. ‘If you had seen her in the old times, indeed—’‘Aye! You saw her when she was not happy,’ said Martin, gazing‘Then, sir,’ said Mark, rubbing his hands, ‘the job’s done. ‘Why, she certainly was a little down-hearted, sir, and somethingpaler in her colour than I could have wished,’ said Mark,Go on, sir, if you please. I’m all attention.’Throwing himself back in his arm-chair, and looking at the ‘but none the worse in her looks for that. I think she seemedfire, with now and then a glance at Mark, who at such times better, sir, after she come to London.’nodded his head sagely, to express his profound interest and Martin withdrew his eyes from the fire; stared at Mark as ifattention. Martin ran over the chief points in his history, to he thought he had suddenly gone mad; and asked him whatthe same effect as he had related them, weeks before, to Mr he meant.Pinch. But he adapted them, according to the best of his judgment,to Mr Tapley’s comprehension; and with that view made say she was any the happier without you; but I thought she‘No offence intended, sir,’ urged Mark. ‘I don’t mean toas light of his love affair as he could, and referred to it in very was a-looking better, sir.’few words. But here he reckoned without his host; for Mark’s ‘Do you mean to tell me she has been in London?’ askedinterest was keenest in this part of the business, and prompted Martin, rising hurriedly, and pushing back his chair.him to ask sundry questions in relation to it; for which he ‘Of course I do,’ said Mark, rising too, in great amazementapologised as one in some measure privileged to do so, from from the bedstead.237

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Do you mean to tell me she is in London now?’ again next week,” and didn’t I go next week; and didn’t he say‘Most likely, sir. I mean to say she was a week ago.’ that he couldn’t make up his mind to trust nobody no more;‘And you know where?’and therefore wouldn’t engage me, but at the same time stood‘Yes!’ cried Mark. ‘What! Don’t you?’something to drink as was handsome! Why,’ cried Mr Tapley,‘My good fellow!’ exclaimed Martin, clutching him by both with a comical mixture of delight and chagrin, ‘where’s thearms, ‘I have never seen her since I left my grandfather’s house.’ credit of a man’s being jolly under such circumstances! Who‘Why, then!’ cried Mark, giving the little table such a blow could help it, when things come about like this!’with his clenched fist that the slices of beef and ham danced For some moments Martin stood gazing at him, as if heupon it, while all his features seemed, with delight, to be really doubted the evidence of his senses, and could not believethat Mark stood there, in the body, before him. At lengthgoing up into his forehead, and never coming back again anymore, ‘if I an’t your nat’ral born servant, hired by Fate, there he asked him whether, if the young lady were still in London,an’t such a thing in natur’ as a Blue Dragon. What! when I he thought he could contrive to deliver a letter to her secretly.was a-rambling up and down a old churchyard in the City, ‘Do I think I can?’ cried Mark. ‘Think I can? Here, sit down,getting myself into a jolly state, didn’t I see your grandfather sir. Write it out, sir!’a-toddling to and fro for pretty nigh a mortal hour! Didn’t I With that he cleared the table by the summary process ofwatch him into Todgers’s commercial boarding-house, and tilting everything upon it into the fireplace; snatched somewatch him out, and watch him home to his hotel, and go and writing materials from the mantel-shelf; set Martin’s chairtell him as his was the service for my money, and I had said before them; forced him down into it; dipped a pen into theso, afore I left the Dragon! Wasn’t the young lady a-sitting ink; and put it in his hand.with him then, and didn’t she fall a-laughing in a manner as ‘Cut away, sir!’ cried Mark. ‘Make it strong, sir. Let it be werywas beautiful to see! Didn’t your grandfather say, “Come back pinted, sir. Do I think so? I should think so. Go to work, sir!’238

Charles DickensMartin required no further adjuration, but went to work atCHAPTER FOURTEENa great rate; while Mr Tapley, installing himself without anymore formalities into the functions of his valet and generalIN WHICH MARTIN BIDS ADIEU TO THEattendant, divested himself of his coat, and went on to clearLADY OF HIS LOVE; AND HONOURS ANthe fireplace and arrange the room; talking to himself in aOBSCURE INDIVIDUAL WHOSE FORlowvoice the whole time.TUNE HE INTENDS TO MAKE‘Jolly sort of lodgings,’ said Mark, rubbing his nose withBY COMMENDING HER TO HIS PROTECtheknob at the end of the fire-shovel, and looking round theTIONpoor chamber; ‘that’s a comfort. The rain’s come through theroof too. That an’t bad. A lively old bedstead, I’ll be bound;THE LETTER BEING duly signed, sealed, and delivered, waspopilated by lots of wampires, no doubt. Come! my spirits ishanded to Mark Tapley, for immediate conveyance if possible.And he succeeded so well in his embassy as to be en-a-getting up again. An uncommon ragged nightcap this. Avery good sign. We shall do yet! Here, Jane, my dear,’ callingabled to return that same night, just as the house was closing,down the stairs, ‘bring up that there hot tumbler for my masterwith the welcome intelligence that he had sent it upstairs toas was a-mixing when I come in. That’s right, sir,’ to Martin.the young lady, enclosed in a small manuscript of his own,‘Go at it as if you meant it, sir. Be very tender, sir, if youpurporting to contain his further petition to be engaged inplease. You can’t make it too strong, sir!’Mr Chuzzlewit’s service; and that she had herself come downand told him, in great haste and agitation, that she wouldmeet the gentleman at eight o’clock to-morrow morning inSt. James’s Park. It was then agreed between the new masterand the new man, that Mark should be in waiting near the239

Martin Chuzzlewithotel in good time, to escort the young lady to the place of hurried forward to meet her. Her squire, Mr Tapley, at theappointment; and when they had parted for the night with same time fell discreetly back, and surveyed the fog abovethis understanding, Martin took up his pen again; and before him with an appearance of attentive interest.he went to bed wrote another letter, whereof more will be ‘My dear Martin,’ said Mary.seen presently.‘My dear Mary,’ said Martin; and lovers are such a singularHe was up before daybreak, and came upon the Park with kind of people that this is all they did say just then, thoughthe morning, which was clad in the least engaging of the three Martin took her arm, and her hand too, and they paced uphundred and sixty-five dresses in the wardrobe of the year. It and down a short walk that was least exposed to observation,was raw, damp, dark, and dismal; the clouds were as muddy half-a-dozen times.as the ground; and the short perspective of every street and ‘If you have changed at all, my love, since we parted,’ saidavenue was closed up by the mist as by a filthy curtain. Martin at length, as he looked upon her with a proud delight,‘Fine weather indeed,’ Martin bitterly soliloquised, ‘to be ‘it is only to be more beautiful than ever!’wandering up and down here in, like a thief! Fine weather Had she been of the common metal of love-worn youngindeed, for a meeting of lovers in the open air, and in a public ladies, she would have denied this in her most interestingwalk! I need be departing, with all speed, for another country;for I have come to a pretty pass in this!’become a perfect fright; or that she had wasted away withmanner; and would have told him that she knew she hadHe might perhaps have gone on to reflect that of all morningsin the year, it was not the best calculated for a young an early grave; or that her mental sufferings were unspeak-weeping and anxiety; or that she was dwindling gently intolady’s coming forth on such an errand, either. But he was able; or would, either by tears or words, or a mixture of both,stopped on the road to this reflection, if his thoughts tended have furnished him with some other information to that effect,and made him as miserable as possible. But she had that way, by her appearance at a short distance, on which hebeen240

Charles Dickensreared up in a sterner school than the minds of most young within his arm, first looking round to see that there were nogirls are formed in; she had had her nature strengthened by observers near, and beholding Mr Tapley more intent thanthe hands of hard endurance and necessity; had come out from ever on the fog; ‘it would be strange if I did not; for myher young trials constant, self-denying, earnest, and devoted; life—especially of late—has been a hard one.’had acquired in her maidenhood—whether happily in the ‘I know it must have been,’ she answered. ‘When have Iend, for herself or him, is foreign to our present purpose to forgotten to think of it and you?’inquire—something of that nobler quality of gentle hearts ‘Not often, I hope,’ said Martin. ‘Not often, I am sure.which is developed often by the sorrows and struggles of Not often, I have some right to expect, Mary; for I have undergonea great deal of vexation and privation, and I naturallymatronly years, but often by their lessons only. Unspoiled,unpampered in her joys or griefs; with frank and full, and look for that return, you know.’deep affection for the object of her early love; she saw in him ‘A very, very poor return,’ she answered with a fainter smile.one who for her sake was an outcast from his home and fortune,and she had no more idea of bestowing that love upon price for a poor heart, Martin; but it is at least your own, and‘But you have it, and will have it always. You have paid a dearhim in other than cheerful and sustaining words, full of high a true one.’hope and grateful trustfulness, than she had of being unworthyof it, in her lightest thought or deed, for any base tempta-shouldn’t have put myself in my present position. And don’t‘Of course I feel quite certain of that,’ said Martin, ‘or Ition that the world could offer.say a poor heart, Mary, for I say a rich one. Now, I am about‘What change is there in you, Martin,’ she replied; ‘for that to break a design to you, dearest, which will startle you atconcerns me nearest? You look more anxious and more first, but which is undertaken for your sake. I am going,’ hethoughtful than you used.’added slowly, looking far into the deep wonder of her bright‘Why, as to that, my love,’ said Martin as he drew her waist dark eyes, ‘abroad.’241

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Abroad, Martin!’‘Endeavouring to be anything that’s good, and being it, is,‘Only to America. See now. How you droop directly!’ with you, all one. Don’t I know that of old?’ cried Martin,‘If I do, or, I hope I may say, if I did,’ she answered, raising gayly. ‘So! That’s famous! Now I can tell you all my plans asher head after a short silence, and looking once more into his cheerfully as if you were my little wife already, Mary.’face, ‘it was for grief to think of what you are resolved to undergofor me. I would not venture to dissuade you, Martin; his face, bade him speak on.She hung more closely on his arm, and looking upwards inbut it is a long, long distance; there is a wide ocean to be crossed; ‘You see,’ said Martin, playing with the little hand upon hisillness and want are sad calamities in any place, but in a foreign wrist, ‘that my attempts to advance myself at home have beencountry dreadful to endure. Have you thought of all this?’ baffled and rendered abortive. I will not say by whom, Mary,‘Thought of it!’ cried Martin, abating, in his fondness—and for that would give pain to us both. But so it is. Have youhe was very fond of her—hardly an iota of his usual impetuosity.‘What am I to do? It’s very well to say, “Have I thought of Pecksniff? Only tell me what I ask you, no more.’heard him speak of late of any relative of mine or his, calledit?” my love; but you should ask me in the same breath, have I ‘I have heard, to my surprise, that he is a better man thanthought of starving at home; have I thought of doing porter’s was supposed.’work for a living; have I thought of holding horses in the streets ‘I thought so,’ interrupted Martin.to earn my roll of bread from day to day? Come, come,’ he ‘And that it is likely we may come to know him, if not toadded, in a gentler tone, ‘do not hang down your head, my visit and reside with him and—I think—his daughters. Hedear, for I need the encouragement that your sweet face alone HAS daughters, has he, love?’can give me. Why, that’s well! Now you are brave again.’ ‘A pair of them,’ Martin answered. ‘A precious pair! Gems‘I am endeavouring to be,’ she answered, smiling through of the first water!’her tears.‘Ah! You are jesting!’242

Charles Dickens‘There is a sort of jesting which is very much in earnest, and ‘Now I am going to America, with great prospects of doingincludes some pretty serious disgust,’ said Martin. ‘I jest in well, and of returning home myself very soon; it may be toreference to Mr Pecksniff (at whose house I have been living take you there for a few years, but, at all events, to claim youas his assistant, and at whose hands I have received insult and for my wife; which, after such trials, I should do with no fearinjury), in that vein. Whatever betides, or however closely of your still thinking it a duty to cleave to him who will notyou may be brought into communication with this family, suffer me to live (for this is true), if he can help it, in my ownnever forget that, Mary; and never for an instant, whatever land. How long I may be absent is, of course, uncertain; but itappearances may seem to contradict me, lose sight of this shall not be very long. Trust me for that.’assurance—Pecksniff is a scoundrel.’‘In the meantime, dear Martin—’‘Indeed!’‘That’s the very thing I am coming to. In the meantime‘In thought, and in deed, and in everything else. A scoundrelfrom the topmost hair of his head, to the nethermost He paused to take from his pocket the letter he had writtenyou shall hear, constantly, of all my goings-on. Thus.’atom of his heel. Of his daughters I will only say that, to the overnight, and then resumed:best of my knowledge and belief, they are dutiful young ladies,and take after their father closely. This is a digression (by fellow, I mean Mr Pecksniff, of course), there is a certain‘In this fellow’s employment, and living in this fellow’s housefrom the main point, and yet it brings me to what I was person of the name of Pinch. Don’t forget; a poor, strange,going to say.’simple oddity, Mary; but thoroughly honest and sincere; fullHe stopped to look into her eyes again, and seeing, in a of zeal; and with a cordial regard for me. Which I mean tohasty glance over his shoulder, that there was no one near, and return one of these days, by setting him up in life in somethat Mark was still intent upon the fog, not only looked at way or other.’her lips, too, but kissed them into the bargain.‘Your old kind nature, Martin!’243

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Oh!’ said Martin, ‘that’s not worth speaking of, my love. remembering that he was proud when they had last met, ‘butHe’s very grateful and desirous to serve me; and I am more I call him my dear Tom Pinch because he likes it, and it pleasesthan repaid. Now one night I told this Pinch my history, and him.’all about myself and you; in which he was not a little interested,I can tell you, for he knows you! Aye, you may look ‘Exactly so!’ cried Martin. ‘It’s as well to be kind whenever‘Very right, and very kind,’ said Mary.surprised—and the longer the better for it becomes you— one can; and, as I said before, he really is an excellent fellow.but you have heard him play the organ in the church of that “My dear Tom Pinch—I address this under cover to Mrs Lupin,village before now; and he has seen you listening to his music; at the Blue Dragon, and have begged her in a short note toand has caught his inspiration from you, too!’deliver it to you without saying anything about it elsewhere;‘Was he the organist?’ cried Mary. ‘I thank him from my and to do the same with all future letters she may receiveheart!’from me. My reason for so doing will be at once apparent to‘Yes, he was,’ said Martin, ‘and is, and gets nothing for it you”—I don’t know that it will be, by the bye,’ said Martin,either. There never was such a simple fellow! Quite an infant! breaking off, ‘for he’s slow of comprehension, poor fellow;But a very good sort of creature, I assure you.’but he’ll find it out in time. My reason simply is, that I don’t‘I am sure of that,’ she said with great earnestness. ‘He must want my letters to be read by other people; and particularlybe!’by the scoundrel whom he thinks an angel.’‘Oh, yes, no doubt at all about it,’ rejoined Martin, in his ‘Mr Pecksniff again?’ asked Mary.usual careless way. ‘He is. Well! It has occurred to me—but ‘The same,’ said Martin ‘—will be at once apparent to you.stay. If I read you what I have written and intend sending to I have completed my arrangements for going to America; andhim by post to-night it will explain itself. “My dear Tom you will be surprised to hear that I am to be accompanied byPinch.” That’s rather familiar perhaps,’ said Martin, suddenly Mark Tapley, upon whom I have stumbled strangely in Lon-244

Charles Dickensdon, and who insists on putting himself under my protection’—meaning,my love,’ said Martin, breaking off again, ‘I understand.’well! “I shall not only”—this is the letter again, you know.’‘our friend in the rear, of course.’‘“I shall not only enclose my letters to the young lady ofShe was delighted to hear this, and bestowed a kind glance whom I have told you, to your charge, to be forwarded as sheupon Mark, which he brought his eyes down from the fog to may request; but I most earnestly commit her, the youngencounter and received with immense satisfaction. She said lady herself, to your care and regard, in the event of yourin his hearing, too, that he was a good soul and a merry creature,and would be faithful, she was certain; commendations abilities of your encountering each other—perhaps very fre-meeting in my absence. I have reason to think that the prob-which Mr Tapley inwardly resolved to deserve, from such quently—are now neither remote nor few; and although inlips, if he died for it.our position you can do very little to lessen the uneasiness of‘“Now, my dear Pinch,”’ resumed Martin, proceeding with hers, I trust to you implicitly to do that much, and so deservehis letter; ‘“I am going to repose great trust in you, knowing the confidence I have reposed in you.” You see, my dear Mary,’that I may do so with perfect reliance on your honour and said Martin, ‘it will be a great consolation to you to havesecrecy, and having nobody else just now to trust in.”’ anybody, no matter how simple, with whom you can speak‘I don’t think I would say that, Martin.’about ME; and the very first time you talk to Pinch, you’ll‘Wouldn’t you? Well! I’ll take that out. It’s perfectly true, feel at once that there is no more occasion for any embarrassmentor hesitation in talking to him, than if he were an oldthough.’‘But it might seem ungracious, perhaps.’woman.’‘Oh, I don’t mind Pinch,’ said Martin. ‘There’s no occasionto stand on any ceremony with HIM. However, I’ll take friend, and that is enough.’‘However that may be,’ she returned, smiling, ‘he is yourit out, as you wish it, and make the full stop at “secrecy.” Very ‘Oh, yes, he’s my friend,’ said Martin, ‘certainly. In fact, I have245

Martin Chuzzlewittold him in so many words that we’ll always take notice of him, At this crisis Mark Tapley interposed, with an apology forand protect him; and it’s a good trait in his character that he’s remarking that the clock at the Horse Guards was striking.grateful—very grateful indeed. You’ll like him of all things, my ‘Which I shouldn’t have said nothing about, sir,’ added Mark,love, I know. You’ll observe very much that’s comical and oldfashionedabout Pinch, but you needn’t mind laughing at him; tioning it.’‘if the young lady hadn’t begged me to be particular in men-for he’ll not care about it. He’ll rather like it indeed!’‘I did,’ said Mary. ‘Thank you. You are quite right. In anotherminute I shall be ready to return. We have time for a‘I don’t think I shall put that to the test, Martin.’‘You won’t if you can help it, of course,’ he said, ‘but I very few words more, dear Martin, and although I had muchthink you’ll find him a little too much for your gravity. However,that’s neither here nor there, and it certainly is not the meeting. Heaven send it may come speedily and prosperously!to say, it must remain unsaid until the happy time of our nextletter; which ends thus: “Knowing that I need not impress But I have no fear of that.’the nature and extent of that confidence upon you at any ‘Fear!’ cried Martin. ‘Why, who has? What are a few months?greater length, as it is already sufficiently established in your What is a whole year? When I come gayly back, with a roadmind, I will only say, in bidding you farewell and looking through life hewn out before me, then indeed, looking backforward to our next meeting, that I shall charge myself from upon this parting, it may seem a dismal one. But now! I swearthis time, through all changes for the better, with your advancementand happiness, as if they were my own. You may I could; for then I should be less inclined to go, and less im-I wouldn’t have it happen under more favourable auspices, ifrely upon that. And always believe me, my dear Tom Pinch, pressed with the necessity.’faithfully your friend, Martin Chuzzlewit. P.S.—I enclose the ‘Yes, yes. I feel that too. When do you go?’amount which you so kindly”—Oh,’ said Martin, checking ‘To-night. We leave for Liverpool to-night. A vessel sailshimself, and folding up the letter, ‘that’s nothing!’from that port, as I hear, in three days. In a month, or less, we246

Charles Dickensshall be there. Why, what’s a month! How many months ing demon in the breasts of other men, so kindred vices knowhave flown by, since our last parting!’each other in their hiding-places every day, when Virtue is‘Long to look back upon,’ said Mary, echoing his cheerful incredulous and blind.tone, ‘but nothing in their course!’‘The quarter’s gone!’ cried Mr Tapley, in a voice of admonition.‘Nothing at all!’ cried Martin. ‘I shall have change of sceneand change of place; change of people, change of manners, ‘I shall be ready to return immediately,’ she said. ‘One thing,change of cares and hopes! Time will wear wings indeed! I can dear Martin, I am bound to tell you. You entreated me a fewbear anything, so that I have swift action, Mary.’minutes since only to answer what you asked me in referenceWas he thinking solely of her care for him, when he took so to one theme, but you should and must know (otherwise Ilittle heed of her share in the separation; of her quiet monotonousendurance, and her slow anxiety from day to day? the unhappy occasion, he has never once uttered your name;could not be at ease) that since that separation of which I wasWas there nothing jarring and discordant even in his tone of has never coupled it, or any faint allusion to it, with passioncourage, with this one note ‘self’ for ever audible, however or reproach; and has never abated in his kindness to me.’high the strain? Not in her ears. It had been better otherwise, ‘I thank him for that last act,’ said Martin, ‘and for nothingperhaps, but so it was. She heard the same bold spirit which else. Though on consideration I may thank him for his otherhad flung away as dross all gain and profit for her sake, makinglight of peril and privation that she might be calm and he will mention my name again. He may once, perhaps—toforbearance also, inasmuch as I neither expect nor desire thathappy; and she heard no more. That heart where self has found couple it with reproach—in his will. Let him, if he please! Byno place and raised no throne, is slow to recognize its ugly the time it reaches me, he will be in his grave; a satire on hispresence when it looks upon it. As one possessed of an evil own anger, God help him!’spirit was held in old time to be alone conscious of the lurk-‘Martin! If you would but sometimes, in some quiet hour;247

Martin Chuzzlewitbeside the winter fire; in the summer air; when you hear gentle dicted from this time forth. And therefore, love’—he drewmusic, or think of Death, or Home, or Childhood; if you her quickly to him, for the time of parting had now come—would at such a season resolve to think, but once a month, or ’in the first letter that you write to me through the Post Office,addressed to New York; and in all the others that youeven once a year, of him, or any one who ever wronged you,you would forgive him in your heart, I know!’send through Pinch; remember he has no existence, but has‘If I believed that to be true, Mary,’ he replied, ‘I would become to us as one who is dead. Now, God bless you! Thisresolve at no such time to bear him in my mind; wishing to is a strange place for such a meeting and such a parting; butspare myself the shame of such a weakness. I was not born to our next meeting shall be in a better, and our next and lastbe the toy and puppet of any man, far less his; to whose pleasureand caprice, in return for any good he did me, my whole ‘One other question, Martin, I must ask. Have you pro-parting in a worse.’youth was sacrificed. It became between us two a fair exchange—abarter—and no more; and there is no such balance ‘Have I?’ cried Martin; it might have been in his pride; itvided money for this journey?’against me that I need throw in a mawkish forgiveness to might have been in his desire to set her mind at ease: ‘Have Ipoise the scale. He has forbidden all mention of me to you, I provided money? Why, there’s a question for an emigrant’sknow,’ he added hastily. ‘Come! Has he not?’wife! How could I move on land or sea without it, love?’‘That was long ago,’ she returned; ‘immediately after your ‘I mean, enough.’parting; before you had left the house. He has never done so ‘Enough! More than enough. Twenty times more thansince.’enough. A pocket-full. Mark and I, for all essential ends, are‘He has never done so since because he has seen no occasion,’said Martin; ‘but that is of little consequence, one way gage.’quite as rich as if we had the purse of Fortunatus in our bag-or other. Let all allusion to him between you and me be inter-‘The half-hour’s a-going!’ cried Mr Tapley.248

Charles Dickens‘Good-bye a hundred times!’ cried Mary, in a trembling with his two feet on the fender, his two elbows on his knees,voice.and his chin supported, in a not very ornamental manner, onBut how cold the comfort in Good-bye! Mark Tapley knew the palms of his hands.it perfectly. Perhaps he knew it from his reading, perhaps from ‘Well, Mark!’his experience, perhaps from intuition. It is impossible to say; ‘Well, sir,’ said Mark, taking a long breath, ‘I see the youngbut however he knew it, his knowledge instinctively suggested lady safe home, and I feel pretty comfortable after it. She sentto him the wisest course of proceeding that any man could a lot of kind words, sir, and this,’ handing him a ring, ‘for ahave adopted under the circumstances. He was taken with a parting keepsake.’violent fit of sneezing, and was obliged to turn his head anotherway. In doing which, he, in a manner fenced and screened it was for her sake; not for theirs—and putting it on his little‘Diamonds!’ said Martin, kissing it—let us do him justice,the lovers into a corner by themselves.finger. ‘Splendid diamonds! My grandfather is a singular character,Mark. He must have given her this now.’There was a short pause, but Mark had an undefined sensationthat it was a satisfactory one in its way. Then Mary, with Mark Tapley knew as well that she had bought it, to theher veil lowered, passed him with a quick step, and beckoned end that that unconscious speaker might carry some article ofhim to follow. She stopped once more before they lost that sterling value with him in his necessity; as he knew that it wascorner; looked back; and waved her hand to Martin. He made day, and not night. Though he had no more acquaintance ofa start towards them at the moment as if he had some other his own knowledge with the history of the glittering trinketfarewell words to say; but she only hurried off the faster, and on Martin’s outspread finger, than Martin himself had, heMr Tapley followed as in duty bound.was as certain that in its purchase she had expended her wholeWhen he rejoined Martin again in his own chamber, he stock of hoarded money, as if he had seen it paid down coinfound that gentleman seated moodily before the dusty grate, by coin. Her lover’s strange obtuseness in relation to this little249

Martin Chuzzlewitincident, promptly suggested to Mark’s mind its real cause ing ghastliness, and seemed by a twist of his features and aand root; and from that moment he had a clear and perfect motion of his lips, to release himself of this word:insight into the one absorbing principle of Martin’s character. ‘Jolly!’‘She is worthy of the sacrifices I have made,’ said Martin,folding his arms, and looking at the ashes in the stove, as if inCHAPTER FIFTEENresumption of some former thoughts. ‘Well worthy of them.No riches’—here he stroked his chin and mused—’could haveTHE BURDEN WHEREOF,compensated for the loss of such a nature. Not to mentionIS HAIL COLUMBIA!that in gaining her affection I have followed the bent of myown wishes, and baulked the selfish schemes of others whoA DARK AND DREARY night; people nestling in their beds orhad no right to form them. She is quite worthy—more thancircling late about the fire; Want, colder than Charity, shiveringat the street corners; church-towers humming with theworthy—of the sacrifices I have made. Yes, she is. No doubtof it.’faint vibration of their own tongues, but newly resting fromThese ruminations might or might not have reached Markthe ghostly preachment ‘One!’ The earth covered with a sableTapley; for though they were by no means addressed to him,pall as for the burial of yesterday; the clumps of dark trees, itsyet they were softly uttered. In any case, he stood there, watchingMartin with an indescribable and most involved expres-giant plumes of funeral feathers, waving sadly to and fro: allhushed, all noiseless, and in deep repose, save the swift cloudssion on his visage, until that young man roused himself andthat skim across the moon, and the cautious wind, as, creepingafter them upon the ground, it stops to listen, and goeslooked towards him; when he turned away, as being suddenlyintent upon certain preparations for the journey, and, withoutgiving vent to any articulate sound, smiled with surpass-rustling on, and stops again, and follows, like a savage on thetrail.250

Charles DickensWhither go the clouds and wind so eagerly? If, like guilty but eternal strife; on, on, on, they roll, and darker grows thespirits, they repair to some dread conference with powers like night, and louder howls the wind, and more clamorous andthemselves, in what wild regions do the elements hold council,or where unbend in terrible disport?goes forth upon the storm ‘A ship!’fierce become the million voices in the sea, when the wild cryHere! Free from that cramped prison called the earth, and Onward she comes, in gallant combat with the elements,out upon the waste of waters. Here, roaring, raging, shrieking,howling, all night long. Hither come the sounding voices onward she comes, now high upon the curling billows, nowher tall masts trembling, and her timbers starting on the strain;from the caverns on the coast of that small island, sleeping, a low down in the hollows of the sea, as hiding for the momentfrom its fury; and every storm-voice in the air and wa-thousand miles away, so quietly in the midst of angry waves;and hither, to meet them, rush the blasts from unknown desert ter cries more loudly yet, ‘A ship!’places of the world. Here, in the fury of their unchecked liberty,they storm and buffet with each other, until the sea, ing cry, the angry waves rise up above each other’s hoary headsStill she comes striving on; and at her boldness and the spread-lashed into passion like their own, leaps up, in ravings mightier to look; and round about the vessel, far as the mariners on thethan theirs, and the whole scene is madness.decks can pierce into the gloom, they press upon her, forcingOn, on, on, over the countless miles of angry space roll the each other down and starting up, and rushing forward fromlong heaving billows. Mountains and caves are here, and yet afar, in dreadful curiosity. High over her they break; and roundare not; for what is now the one, is now the other; then all is her surge and roar; and giving place to others, moaningly depart,and dash themselves to fragments in their baffled anger.but a boiling heap of rushing water. Pursuit, and flight, andmad return of wave on wave, and savage struggle, ending in a Still she comes onward bravely. And though the eager multitudecrowd thick and fast upon her all the night, and dawn ofspouting-up of foam that whitens the black night; incessantchange of place, and form, and hue; constancy in nothing, day discovers the untiring train yet bearing down upon the ship251

Martin Chuzzlewitin an eternity of troubled water, onward she comes, with dim ‘With my head to where?’ asked Mark.lights burning in her hull, and people there, asleep; as if no The man repeated his previous sentiment.deadly element were peering in at every seam and chink, and no ‘No, I won’t another time,’ said Mark, ‘when I know whereaboutson the map that country is. In the meanwhile I candrowned seaman’s grave, with but a plank to cover it, wereyawning in the unfathomable depths below.give you a better piece of advice. Don’t you nor any otherAmong these sleeping voyagers were Martin and Mark friend of mine never go to sleep with his head in a ship anyTapley, who, rocked into a heavy drowsiness by the unaccustomedmotion, were as insensible to the foul air in which The man gave a grunt of discontented acquiescence, turnedmore.’they lay, as to the uproar without. It was broad day when the over in his berth, and drew his blanket over his head.latter awoke with a dim idea that he was dreaming of having ‘—For,’ said Mr Tapley, pursuing the theme by way of soliloquyin a low tone of voice; ‘the sea is as nonsensical a thinggone to sleep in a four-post bedstead which had turned bottomupwards in the course of the night. There was more reasonin this too, than in the roasting of eggs; for the first ob-got no employment for its mind, and is always in a state ofas any going. It never knows what to do with itself. It hasn’tjects Mr Tapley recognized when he opened his eyes were his vacancy. Like them Polar bears in the wild-beast shows as isown heels—looking down to him, as he afterwards observed, constantly a-nodding their heads from side to side, it neverfrom a nearly perpendicular elevation.CAN be quiet. Which is entirely owing to its uncommon‘Well!’ said Mark, getting himself into a sitting posture, stupidity.’after various ineffectual struggles with the rolling of the ship. ‘Is that you, Mark?’ asked a faint voice from another berth.‘This is the first time as ever I stood on my head all night.’ ‘It’s as much of me as is left, sir, after a fortnight of this‘You shouldn’t go to sleep upon the ground with your head work,’ Mr Tapley replied, ‘What with leading the life of a fly,to leeward then,’ growled a man in one of the berths. ever since I’ve been aboard—for I’ve been perpetually hold-252

Charles Dickensing-on to something or other in a upside-down position— floor, to the extinction of everything like comfort, cleanliness,and decency, it is liable to operate not only as a prettywhat with that, sir, and putting a very little into myself, andtaking a good deal out of myself, there an’t too much of me strong banner against amiability of temper, but as a positiveto swear by. How do you find yourself this morning, sir?’ encourager of selfish and rough humours. Mark felt this, as‘Very miserable,’ said Martin, with a peevish groan. ‘Ugh. he sat looking about him; and his spirits rose proportionately.This is wretched, indeed!’‘Creditable,’ muttered Mark, pressing one hand upon his There were English people, Irish people, Welsh people, andaching head and looking round him with a rueful grin. ‘That’s Scotch people there; all with their little store of coarse food andthe great comfort. It IS creditable to keep up one’s spirits shabby clothes; and nearly all with their families of children.here. Virtue’s its own reward. So’s jollity.’There were children of all ages; from the baby at the breast, toMark was so far right that unquestionably any man who the slattern-girl who was as much a grown woman as her mother.retained his cheerfulness among the steerage accommodations Every kind of domestic suffering that is bred in poverty, illness,of that noble and fast-sailing line-of-packet ship, ‘The Screw,’ banishment, sorrow, and long travel in bad weather, waswas solely indebted to his own resources, and shipped his crammed into the little space; and yet was there infinitely lessgood humour, like his provisions, without any contribution of complaint and querulousness, and infinitely more of mutualassistance and general kindness to be found in that un-or assistance from the owners. A dark, low, stifling cabin,surrounded by berths all filled to overflowing with men, wholesome ark, than in many brilliant ballrooms.women, and children, in various stages of sickness and misery,is not the liveliest place of assembly at any time; but when as he looked. Here an old grandmother was crooning over aMark looked about him wistfully, and his face brightenedit is so crowded (as the steerage cabin of the Screw was, every sick child, and rocking it to and fro, in arms hardly morepassage out), that mattresses and beds are heaped upon the wasted than its own young limbs; here a poor woman with253

Martin Chuzzlewitan infant in her lap, mended another little creature’s clothes, The woman, who was delicate and ill, felt and understoodand quieted another who was creeping up about her from his kindness, as well she might, for she had been covered everynight with his greatcoat, while he had for his own bed thetheir scanty bed upon the floor. Here were old men awkwardlyengaged in little household offices, wherein they would bare boards and a rug. But Martin, who seldom got up orhave been ridiculous but for their good-will and kind purpose;and here were swarthy fellows—giants in their way— speech, and expressed his dissatisfaction by an impatient groan.looked about him, was quite incensed by the folly of thisdoing such little acts of tenderness for those about them, as ‘So it is, certainly,’ said Mark, brushing the child’s hair asmight have belonged to gentlest-hearted dwarfs. The very idiot coolly as if he had been born and bred a barber.in the corner who sat mowing there, all day, had his faculty of ‘What are you talking about, now?’ asked Martin.imitation roused by what he saw about him; and snapped his ‘What you said,’ replied Mark; ‘or what you meant, whenfingers to amuse a crying child.you gave that there dismal vent to your feelings. I quite go‘Now, then,’ said Mark, nodding to a woman who was along with it, sir. It is very hard upon her.’dressing her three children at no great distance from him— ‘What is?’and the grin upon his face had by this time spread from ear to ‘Making the voyage by herself along with these young impedimentshere, and going such a way at such a time of theear—’Hand over one of them young ‘uns according to custom.’year to join her husband. If you don’t want to be driven mad‘I wish you’d get breakfast, Mark, instead of worrying with with yellow soap in your eye, young man,’ said Mr Tapley topeople who don’t belong to you,’ observed Martin, petulantly. the second urchin, who was by this time under his hands at‘All right,’ said Mark. ‘She’lll do that. It’s a fair division of the basin, ‘you’d better shut it.’labour, sir. I wash her boys, and she makes our tea. I never ‘Where does she join her husband?’ asked Martin, yawning.could make tea, but any one can wash a boy.’‘Why, I’m very much afraid,’ said Mr Tapley, in a low voice,254

Charles Dickens‘that she don’t know. I hope she mayn’t miss him. But she meal was over and he had adjusted Martin’s bed, went up onsent her last letter by hand, and it don’t seem to have been deck to wash the breakfast service, which consisted of twovery clearly understood between ‘em without it, and if she half-pint tin mugs, and a shaving-pot of the same metal.don’t see him a-waving his pocket-handkerchief on the shore, It is due to Mark Tapley to state that he suffered at least aslike a pictur out of a song-book, my opinion is, she’ll break much from sea-sickness as any man, woman, or child, onher heart.’board; and that he had a peculiar faculty of knocking himself‘Why, how, in Folly’s name, does the woman come to be about on the smallest provocation, and losing his legs at everyon board ship on such a wild-goose venture!’ cried Martin. lurch of the ship. But resolved, in his usual phrase, to ‘comeMr Tapley glanced at him for a moment as he lay prostrate out strong’ under disadvantageous circumstances, he was thein his berth, and then said, very quietly:life and soul of the steerage, and made no more of stopping‘Ah! How indeed! I can’t think! He’s been away from her in the middle of a facetious conversation to go away and befor two year; she’s been very poor and lonely in her own country;and has always been a-looking forward to meeting him. very best and gayest of tempers to resume it, than if such aexcessively ill by himself, and afterwards come back in theIt’s very strange she should be here. Quite amazing! A little course of proceeding had been the commonest in the world.mad perhaps! There can’t be no other way of accounting for It cannot be said that as his illness wore off, his cheerfulnessit.’and good nature increased, because they would hardly admit ofMartin was too far gone in the lassitude of sea-sickness to augmentation; but his usefulness among the weaker membersmake any reply to these words, or even to attend to them as of the party was much enlarged; and at all times and seasonsthey were spoken. And the subject of their discourse returningat this crisis with some hot tea, effectually put a stop to sky, down Mark tumbled into the cabin, and presently up hethere he was exerting it. If a gleam of sun shone out of the darkany resumption of the theme by Mr Tapley; who, when the came again with a woman in his arms, or half-a-dozen chil-255

Martin Chuzzlewitdren, or a man, or a bed, or a saucepan, or a basket, or somethinganimate or inanimate, that he thought would be the bet-dishes; recognized by every one as an established authority; anddoing all kinds of culinary offices; compounding the strangestter for the air. If an hour or two of fine weather in the middle helping all parties to achieve something which, left to themselves,they never could have done, and never would haveof the day tempted those who seldom or never came on deckat other times to crawl into the long-boat, or lie down upon dreamed of. In short, there never was a more popular characterthe spare spars, and try to eat, there, in the centre of the group, than Mark Tapley became, on board that noble and fast-sailingwas Mr Tapley, handing about salt beef and biscuit, or dispensingtastes of grog, or cutting up the children’s provisions with pitch of universal admiration, that he began to have grave doubtsline-of-packet ship, the Screw; and he attained at last to such ahis pocketknife, for their greater ease and comfort, or reading within himself whether a man might reasonably claim any creditaloud from a venerable newspaper, or singing some roaring old for being jolly under such exciting circumstances.song to a select party, or writing the beginnings of letters to ‘If this was going to last,’ said Tapley, ‘there’d be no greattheir friends at home for people who couldn’t write, or crackingjokes with the crew, or nearly getting blown over the side, I never am to get credit, I think. I begin to be afraid that thedifference as I can perceive, between the Screw and the Dragon.or emerging, half-drowned, from a shower of spray, or lending Fates is determined to make the world easy to me.’a hand somewhere or other; but always doing something for ‘Well, Mark,’ said Martin, near whose berth he had ruminatedto this effect. ‘When will this be over?’the general entertainment. At night, when the cooking-fire waslighted on the deck, and the driving sparks that flew among the ‘Another week, they say, sir,’ returned Mark, ‘will most likelyrigging, and the clouds of sails, seemed to menace the ship with bring us into port. The ship’s a-going along at present, as sensibleas a ship can, sir; though I don’t mean to say as that’s anycertain annihilation by fire, in case the elements of air and waterfailed to compass her destruction; there, again, was Mr Tapley, very high praise.’with his coat off and his shirt-sleeves turned up to his elbows, ‘I don’t think it is, indeed,’ groaned Martin.256

Charles Dickens‘You’d feel all the better for it, sir, if you was to turn out,’ ‘All the madhouses in the world,’ said Mr Tapley, ‘couldn’tobserved Mark.produce such a maniac as the man must be who could think‘And be seen by the ladies and gentlemen on the after-deck,’ that.’returned Martin, with a scronful emphasis upon the words, ‘Then why are you forever goading and urging me to get‘mingling with the beggarly crowd that are stowed away in up?’ asked Martin, ‘I lie here because I don’t wish to be recognized,in the better days to which I aspire, by any purse-proudthis vile hole. I should be greatly the better for that, no doubt.’‘I’m thankful that I can’t say from my own experience what citizen, as the man who came over with him among the steeragepassengers. I lie here because I wish to conceal my circum-the feelings of a gentleman may be,’ said Mark, ‘but I shouldhave thought, sir, as a gentleman would feel a deal more uncomfortabledown here than up in the fresh air, especially and ticketed as an utterly poverty-stricken man. If I couldstances and myself, and not to arrive in a new world badgedwhen the ladies and gentlemen in the after-cabin know just as have afforded a passage in the after-cabin I should have heldmuch about him as he does about them, and are likely to up my head with the rest. As I couldn’t I hide it. Do youtrouble their heads about him in the same proportion. I should understand that?’have thought that, certainly.’‘I am very sorry, sir,’ said Mark. ‘I didn’t know you took it‘I tell you, then,’ rejoined Martin, ‘you would have thought so much to heart as this comes to.’wrong, and do think wrong.’‘Of course you didn’t know,’ returned his master. ‘How‘Very likely, sir,’ said Mark, with imperturbable good temper.‘I often do.’to make yourself comfortable and to bustle about. It’s as natu-should you know, unless I told you? It’s no trial to you, Mark,‘As to lying here,’ cried Martin, raising himself on his elbow,and looking angrily at his follower. ‘Do you suppose it’s to do so. Why, you don’t suppose there is a living creature inral for you to do so under the circumstances as it is for me nota pleasure to lie here?’this ship who can by possibility have half so much to un-257

Martin Chuzzlewitdergo on board of her as I have? Do you?’ he asked, sitting advantages over the Dragon. He also remarked that it was aupright in his berth and looking at Mark, with an expression high gratification to him to reflect that he would carry itsof great earnestness not unmixed with wonder.main excellence ashore with him, and have it constantly besidehim wherever he went; but what he meant by these con-Mark twisted his face into a tight knot, and with his headvery much on one side, pondered upon this question as if he solatory thoughts he did not explain.felt it an extremely difficult one to answer. He was relieved And now a general excitement began to prevail on board;from his embarrassment by Martin himself, who said, as he and various predictions relative to the precise day, and evenstretched himself upon his back again and resumed the book the precise hour at which they would reach New York, werehe had been reading:freely broached. There was infinitely more crowding on deck‘But what is the use of my putting such a case to you, when and looking over the ship’s side than there had been before;the very essence of what I have been saying is, that you cannot and an epidemic broke out for packing up things every morning,which required unpacking again every night. Those whoby possibility understand it! Make me a little brandy-andwater—coldand very weak—and give me a biscuit, and tell had any letters to deliver, or any friends to meet, or any settledyour friend, who is a nearer neighbour of ours than I could plans of going anywhere or doing anything, discussed theirwish, to try and keep her children a little quieter to-night prospects a hundred times a day; and as this class of passengerswas very small, and the number of those who had nothan she did last night; that’s a good fellow.’Mr Tapley set himself to obey these orders with great alacrity,and pending their execution, it may be presumed his ers and few talkers. Those who had been ill all along, got wellprospects whatever was very large, there were plenty of listen-flagging spirits revived; inasmuch as he several times observed, now, and those who had been well, got better. An Americanbelow his breath, that in respect of its power of imparting a gentleman in the after-cabin, who had been wrapped up incredit to jollity, the Screw unquestionably had some decided fur and oilskin the whole passage, unexpectedly appeared in a258

Charles Dickensvery shiny, tall, black hat, and constantly overhauled a very her living freight aboard. Among them Mark, who still hadlittle valise of pale leather, which contained his clothes, linen, his friend and her three children under his close protection;brushes, shaving apparatus, books, trinkets, and other baggage.He likewise stuck his hands deep into his pockets, and attire, but wore a soiled, old cloak above his ordinary clothes,and Martin, who had once more dressed himself in his usualwalked the deck with his nostrils dilated, as already inhaling until such time as he should separate for ever from his latethe air of Freedom which carries death to all tyrants, and can companions.never (under any circumstances worth mentioning) be breathed The steamer—which, with its machinery on deck, looked,by slaves. An English gentleman who was strongly suspected as it worked its long slim legs, like some enormously magnifiedinsect or antediluvian monster—dashed at great speed upof having run away from a bank, with something in his possessionbelonging to its strong box besides the key, grew eloquentupon the subject of the rights of man, and hummed islands, and a long, flat, straggling city.a beautiful bay; and presently they saw some heights, andthe Marseillaise Hymn constantly. In a word, one great sensationpervaded the whole ship, and the soil of America lay of Liberty, is it? Very well. I’m agreeable. Any land will do for‘And this,’ said Mr Tapley, looking far ahead, ‘is the Landclose before them; so close at last, that, upon a certain starlightnight they took a pilot on board, and within a few hoursme, after so much water!’afterwards lay to until the morning, awaiting the arrival of asteamboat in which the passengers were to be conveyed ashore.Off she came, soon after it was light next morning, andlying alongside an hour or more—during which period hervery firemen were objects of hardly less interest and curiositythan if they had been so many angels, good or bad—took all259

CHAPTER SIXTEENMARTIN DISEMBARKS FROM THATNOBLE AND FAST-SAILING LINE-OF-PACKET SHIP, ‘THE SCREW’, AT THEPORT OF NEW YORK, IN THE UNITEDSTATES OF AMERICA. HE MAKES SOMEACQUAINTANCES, AND DINES AT ABOARDING-HOUSE. THE PARTICULARSOF THOSE TRANSACTIONSSOME TRIFLING EXCITEMENT prevailed upon the very brink andmargin of the land of liberty; for an alderman had been electedthe day before; and Party Feeling naturally running rather highon such an exciting occasion, the friends of the disappointedcandidate had found it necessary to assert the great principlesof Purity of Election and Freedom of opinion by breaking afew legs and arms, and furthermore pursuing one obnoxiousgentleman through the streets with the design of hitting hisnose. These good-humoured little outbursts of the popularfancy were not in themselves sufficiently remarkable to createMartin Chuzzlewit260any great stir, after the lapse of a whole night; but they foundfresh life and notoriety in the breath of the newsboys, whonot only proclaimed them with shrill yells in all the highwaysand byways of the town, upon the wharves and among theshipping, but on the deck and down in the cabins of the steamboat;which, before she touched the shore, was boarded andoverrun by a legion of those young citizens.‘Here’s this morning’s New York Sewer!’ cried one. ‘Here’sthis morning’s New York Stabber! Here’s the New York FamilySpy! Here’s the New York Private Listener! Here’s the NewYork Peeper! Here’s the New York Plunderer! Here’s the NewYork Keyhole Reporter! Here’s the New York Rowdy Journal!Here’s all the New York papers! Here’s full particulars ofthe patriotic locofoco movement yesterday, in which the whigswas so chawed up; and the last Alabama gouging case; and theinteresting Arkansas dooel with Bowie knives; and all thePolitical, Commercial, and Fashionable News. Here they are!Here they are! Here’s the papers, here’s the papers!’‘Here’s the Sewer!’ cried another. ‘Here’s the New YorkSewer! Here’s some of the twelfth thousand of to-day’s Sewer,with the best accounts of the markets, and all the shipping

Charles Dickensnews, and four whole columns of country correspondence, ‘It is in such enlightened means,’ said a voice almost in Martin’sand a full account of the Ball at Mrs White’s last night, where ear, ‘that the bubbling passions of my country find a vent.’all the beauty and fashion of New York was assembled; with Martin turned involuntarily, and saw, standing close at histhe Sewer’s own particulars of the private lives of all the ladies side, a sallow gentleman, with sunken cheeks, black hair, smallthat was there! Here’s the Sewer! Here’s some of the twelfth twinkling eyes, and a singular expression hovering about thatthousand of the New York Sewer! Here’s the Sewer’s exposureof the Wall Street Gang, and the Sewer’s exposure of the might have been mistaken at the first glance for either. Indeedregion of his face, which was not a frown, nor a leer, and yetWashington Gang, and the Sewer’s exclusive account of a flagrantact of dishonesty committed by the Secretary of State to describe it in any more satisfactory terms than as a mixedit would have been difficult, on a much closer acquaintance,when he was eight years old; now communicated, at a great expression of vulgar cunning and conceit. This gentleman woreexpense, by his own nurse. Here’s the Sewer! Here’s the New a rather broad-brimmed hat for the greater wisdom of hisYork Sewer, in its twelfth thousand, with a whole column of appearance; and had his arms folded for the greater impressivenessof his attitude. He was somewhat shabbily dressed inNew Yorkers to be shown up, and all their names printed!Here’s the Sewer’s article upon the Judge that tried him, day a blue surtout reaching nearly to his ankles, short loose trousersof the same colour, and a faded buff waistcoat, throughafore yesterday, for libel, and the Sewer’s tribute to the independentJury that didn’t convict him, and the Sewer’s account which a discoloured shirt-frill struggled to force itself intoof what they might have expected if they had! Here’s the notice, as asserting an equality of civil rights with the otherSewer, here’s the Sewer! Here’s the wide-awake Sewer; always portions of his dress, and maintaining a declaration of Independenceon its own account. His feet, which were of unusu-on the lookout; the leading Journal of the United States, nowin its twelfth thousand, and still a-printing off:—Here’s the ally large proportions, were leisurely crossed before him as heNew York Sewer!’half leaned against, half sat upon, the steamboat’s bulwark;261

Martin Chuzzlewitand his thick cane, shod with a mighty ferule at one end and ‘Well, I should expect you were not prepared, sir,’ said thearmed with a great metal knob at the other, depended from a gentleman, ‘to behold such signs of National Prosperity asline-and-tassel on his wrist. Thus attired, and thus composed those?’into an aspect of great profundity, the gentleman twitched up He pointed to the vessels lying at the wharves; and thenthe right-hand corner of his mouth and his right eye simultaneously,and said, once more:air and water, generally, in this remark.gave a vague flourish with his stick, as if he would include the‘It is in such enlightened means that the bubbling passions ‘Really,’ said Martin, ‘I don’t know. Yes. I think I was.’of my country find a vent.’The gentleman glanced at him with a knowing look, and saidAs he looked at Martin, and nobody else was by, Martin he liked his policy. It was natural, he said, and it pleased him as ainclined his head, and said:philosopher to observe the prejudices of human nature.‘You allude to—?’‘You have brought, I see, sir,’ he said, turning round towardsMartin, and resting his chin on the top of his stick, ‘the‘To the Palladium of rational Liberty at home, sir, and thedread of Foreign oppression abroad,’ returned the gentleman, usual amount of misery and poverty and ignorance and crime,as he pointed with his cane to an uncommonly dirty newsboywith one eye. ‘To the Envy of the world, sir, and the ‘em come on in shiploads from the old country. When vesselsto be located in the bosom of the great Republic. Well, sir! letleaders of Human Civilization. Let me ask you sir,’ he added, are about to founder, the rats are said to leave ‘em. There isbringing the ferule of his stick heavily upon the deck with the considerable of truth, I find, in that remark.’air of a man who must not be equivocated with, ‘how do you ‘The old ship will keep afloat a year or two longer yet,like my Country?’perhaps,’ said Martin with a smile, partly occasioned by what‘I am hardly prepared to answer that question yet,’ said the gentleman said, and partly by his manner of saying it,Martin ‘seeing that I have not been ashore.’which was odd enough for he emphasised all the small words262

Charles Dickensand syllables in his discourse, and left the others to take care ‘Yes?’ said the gentleman.of themselves; as if he thought the larger parts of speech could ‘No,’ said Martin.be trusted alone, but the little ones required to be constantly The gentleman adjusted his cane under his left arm, andlooked after.took a more deliberate and complete survey of Martin than‘Hope is said by the poet, sir,’ observed the gentleman, ‘to he had yet had leisure to make. When he had completed hisbe the nurse of young Desire.’inspection, he put out his right hand, shook Martin’s hand,Martin signified that he had heard of the cardinal virtue in and said:question serving occasionally in that domestic capacity. ‘My name is Colonel Diver, sir. I am the Editor of the New‘She will not rear her infant in the present instance, sir, you’ll York Rowdy Journal.’find,’ observed the gentleman.Martin received the communication with that degree of‘Time will show,’ said Martin.respect which an announcement so distinguished appeared toThe gentleman nodded his head gravely; and said, ‘What is demand.your name, sir?’‘The New York Rowdy Journal, sir,’ resumed the colonel,Martin told him.‘is, as I expect you know, the organ of our aristocracy in this‘How old are you, sir?’city.’Martin told him.‘Oh! there is an aristocracy here, then?’ said Martin. ‘Of‘What is your profession, sir?’what is it composed?’Martin told him that also.‘Of intelligence, sir,’ replied the colonel; ‘of intelligence and‘What is your destination, sir?’ inquired the gentleman. virtue. And of their necessary consequence in this republic—‘Really,’ said Martin laughing, ‘I can’t satisfy you in that dollars, sir.’particular, for I don’t know it myself.’Martin was very glad to hear this, feeling well assured that263

Martin Chuzzlewitif intelligence and virtue led, as a matter of course, to the ‘Yes?’ said the colonel.acquisition of dollars, he would speedily become a great capitalist.He was about to express the gratification such news up to your office with the passenger-list, colonel.’‘Well! It was, sir,’ said the captain. ‘I’ve just now sent a boyafforded him, when he was interrupted by the captain of the ‘You haven’t got another boy to spare, p’raps, cap’en?’ saidship, who came up at the moment to shake hands with the the colonel, in a tone almost amounting to severity.colonel; and who, seeing a well-dressed stranger on the deck ‘I guess there air a dozen if you want ‘em, colonel,’ said the(for Martin had thrown aside his cloak), shook hands with captain.him also. This was an unspeakable relief to Martin, who, in ‘One moderate big ‘un could convey a dozen champagne,spite of the acknowledged supremacy of Intelligence and virtuein that happy country, would have been deeply mortified said a spanking run, I think?’perhaps,’ observed the colonel, musing, ‘to my office. Youto appear before Colonel Diver in the poor character of a ‘Well, so I did,’ was the reply.steerage passenger.‘It’s very nigh, you know,’ observed the colonel. ‘I’m glad it‘Well cap’en!’ said the colonel.was a spanking run, cap’en. Don’t mind about quarts if you’re‘Well colonel,’ cried the captain. ‘You’re looking most uncommonbright, sir. I can hardly realise its being you, and and travel twice as once.—A first-rate spanker, cap’en, was it?short of ‘em. The boy can as well bring four-and-twenty pints,that’s a fact.’Yes?’‘A good passage, cap’en?’ inquired the colonel, taking him ‘A most e—tarnal spanker,’ said the skipper.aside,‘I admire at your good fortun, cap’en. You might loan me a‘Well now! It was a pretty spanking run, sir,’ said, or rather corkscrew at the same time, and half-a-dozen glasses if yousung, the captain, who was a genuine New Englander; ‘considerin’the weather.’country’s noble packet-ship, the Screw, sir,’ said theliked. However bad the elements combine against mycolonel,264

Charles Dickensturning to Martin, and drawing a flourish on the surface of though it was quite early in the morning, readily acquiesced.the deck with his cane, ‘her passage either way is almost certainto eventuate a spanker!’and her three children, that when he had done assisting them,So, instructing Mark, who was deeply engaged with his friendThe captain, who had the Sewer below at that moment, and had cleared the baggage, he was to wait for further orderslunching expensively in one cabin, while the amiable Stabber at the Rowdy Journal Office, Martin accompanied his newwas drinking himself into a state of blind madness in another, friend on shore.took a cordial leave of his friend the colonel, and hurried They made their way as they best could through the melancholycrowd of emigrants upon the wharf, who, grouped aboutaway to dispatch the champagne; well knowing (as it afterwardsappeared) that if he failed to conciliate the editor of the their beds and boxes, with the bare ground below them andRowdy Journal, that potentate would denounce him and his the bare sky above, might have fallen from another planet,ship in large capitals before he was a day older; and would for anything they knew of the country; and walked for someprobably assault the memory of his mother also, who had short distance along a busy street, bounded on one side by thenot been dead more than twenty years. The colonel being quays and shipping; and on the other by a long row of staringagain left alone with Martin, checked him as he was moving red-brick storehouses and offices, ornamented with more blackaway, and offered in consideration of his being an Englishman,to show him the town and to introduce him, if such letters, than Martin had ever seen before, in fifty times theboards and white letters, and more white boards and blackwere his desire, to a genteel boarding-house. But before they space. Presently they turned up a narrow street, and presentlyentered on these proceedings (he said), he would beseech the into other narrow streets, until at last they stopped before ahonour of his company at the office of the Rowdy Journal, house whereon was painted in great characters, ‘Rowdy Journal.’to partake of a bottle of champagne of his own importation.All this was so extremely kind and hospitable, that Martin, The colonel, who had walked the whole way with one hand265

Martin Chuzzlewitin his breast, his head occasionally wagging from side to side, and there, been grubbed up by the roots; which accountedand his hat thrown back upon his ears, like a man who was for his loftiest developments being somewhat pimply. Heoppressed to inconvenience by a sense of his own greatness, had that order of nose on which the envy of mankind hasled the way up a dark and dirty flight of stairs into a room of bestowed the appellation ‘snub,’ and it was very much turnedsimilar character, all littered and bestrewn with odds and ends up at the end, as with a lofty scorn. Upon the upper lip ofof newspapers and other crumpled fragments, both in proof this young gentleman were tokens of a sandy down; so very,and manuscript. Behind a mangy old writing-table in this very smooth and scant, that, though encouraged to the utmost,it looked more like a recent trace of gingerbread thanapartment sat a figure with a stump of a pen in its mouth anda great pair of scissors in its right hand, clipping and slicing at the fair promise of a moustache; and this conjecture, his apparentlytender age went far to strengthen. He was intent upona file of Rowdy Journals; and it was such a laughable figurethat Martin had some difficulty in preserving his gravity, his work. Every time he snapped the great pair of scissors, hethough conscious of the close observation of Colonel Diver. made a corresponding motion with his jaws, which gave himThe individual who sat clipping and slicing as aforesaid at a very terrible appearance.the Rowdy Journals, was a small young gentleman of very Martin was not long in determining within himself thatjuvenile appearance, and unwholesomely pale in the face; partly, this must be Colonel Diver’s son; the hope of the family, andperhaps, from intense thought, but partly, there is no doubt, future mainspring of the Rowdy Journal. Indeed he had begunto say that he presumed this was the colonel’s little boy,from the excessive use of tobacco, which he was at that momentchewing vigorously. He wore his shirt-collar turned and that it was very pleasant to see him playing at Editor in alldown over a black ribbon; and his lank hair, a fragile crop, the guilelessness of childhood, when the colonel proudly interposedand said:was not only smoothed and parted back from his brow, thatnone of the Poetry of his aspect might be lost, but had, here ‘My War Correspondent, sir—Mr Jefferson Brick!’266

Charles DickensMartin could not help starting at this unexpected announcement,and the consciousness of the irretrievable mistake he your lips, which of his sentiments has struck the deadliestof Jefferson Brick. I should like to be informed, sir, fromhad nearly made.blow—’Mr Brick seemed pleased with the sensation he produced ‘At the hundred heads of the Hydra of Corruption nowupon the stranger, and shook hands with him, with an air of grovelling in the dust beneath the lance of Reason, and spoutingup to the universal arch above us, its sanguinary gore,’patronage designed to reassure him, and to let him blow thatthere was no occasion to be frightened, for he (Brick) wouldn’t said Mr Brick, putting on a little blue cloth cap with a glazedhurt him.front, and quoting his last article.‘You have heard of Jefferson Brick, I see, sir,’ quoth the ‘The libation of freedom, Brick’—hinted the colonel.colonel, with a smile. ‘England has heard of Jefferson Brick. ‘—Must sometimes be quaffed in blood, colonel,’ criedEurope has heard of Jefferson Brick. Let me see. When did Brick. And when he said ‘blood,’ he gave the great pair ofyou leave England, sir?’scissors a sharp snap, as if they said blood too, and were quite‘Five weeks ago,’ said Martin.of his opinion.‘Five weeks ago,’ repeated the colonel, thoughtfully; as he This done, they both looked at Martin, pausing for a reply.took his seat upon the table, and swung his legs. ‘Now let me ‘Upon my life,’ said Martin, who had by this time quiteask you, sir which of Mr Brick’s articles had become at that recovered his usual coolness, ‘I can’t give you any satisfactorytime the most obnoxious to the British Parliament and the information about it; for the truth is that I—’Court of Saint James’s?’‘Stop!’ cried the colonel, glancing sternly at his war correspondentand giving his head one shake after every sentence.‘Upon my word,’ said Martin, ‘I—’‘I have reason to know, sir,’ interrupted the colonel, ‘that ‘That you never heard of Jefferson Brick, sir. That you neverthe aristocratic circles of your country quail before the name read Jefferson Brick, sir. That you never saw the Rowdy Jour-267

Martin Chuzzlewitnal, sir. That you never knew, sir, of its mighty influence upon ing him a paper. ‘You’ll find Jefferson Brick at his usual postthe cabinets of Europe. Yes?’in the van of human civilization and moral purity.’‘That’s what I was about to observe, certainly,’ said Martin. The colonel was by this time seated on the table again. Mr‘Keep cool, Jefferson,’ said the colonel gravely. ‘Don’t bust! Brick also took up a position on that same piece of furniture;oh you Europeans! After that, let’s have a glass of wine!’ So and they fell to drinking pretty hard. They often looked atsaying, he got down from the table, and produced, from a Martin as he read the paper, and then at each other. When hebasket outside the door, a bottle of champagne, and three glasses. laid it down, which was not until they had finished a second‘Mr Jefferson Brick, sir,’ said the colonel, filling Martin’s bottle, the colonel asked him what he thought of it.glass and his own, and pushing the bottle to that gentleman, ‘Why, it’s horribly personal,’ said Martin.‘will give us a sentiment.’The colonel seemed much flattered by this remark; and‘Well, sir!’ cried the war correspondent, ‘Since you have said he hoped it was.concluded to call upon me, I will respond. I will give you, sir, ‘We are independent here, sir,’ said Mr Jefferson Brick. ‘WeThe Rowdy Journal and its brethren; the well of Truth, whose do as we like.’waters are black from being composed of printers’ ink, but ‘If I may judge from this specimen,’ returned Martin, ‘thereare quite clear enough for my country to behold the shadow must be a few thousands here, rather the reverse of independent,who do as they don’t like.’of her Destiny reflected in.’‘Hear, hear!’ cried the colonel, with great complacency. ‘Well! They yield to the popular mind of the Popular Instructor,sir,’ said the colonel. ‘They rile up, sometimes; but‘There are flowery components, sir, in the language of myfriend?’in general we have a hold upon our citizens, both in public‘Very much so, indeed,’ said Martin.and in private life, which is as much one of the ennobling‘There is to-day’s Rowdy, sir,’ observed the colonel, hand-institutions of our happy country as—’268

Charles Dickens‘As nigger slavery itself,’ suggested Mr Brick.‘And do, sometimes,’ thought Martin. ‘You help yourselves‘En—tirely so,’ remarked the colonel.with very little ceremony, too!’‘Pray,’ said Martin, after some hesitation, ‘may I venture to ‘At all events, whatever name we choose to employ,’ saidask, with reference to a case I observe in this paper of yours, the colonel, stooping down to roll the third empty bottlewhether the Popular Instructor often deals in—I am at a loss into a corner after the other two, ‘I suppose the art of forgeryto express it without giving you offence—in forgery? In forged was not invented here sir?’letters, for instance,’ he pursued, for the colonel was perfectly ‘I suppose not,’ replied Martin.calm and quite at his ease, ‘solemnly purporting to have been ‘Nor any other kind of smartness I reckon?’written at recent periods by living men?’‘Invented! No, I presume not.’‘Well, sir!’ replied the colonel. ‘It does, now and then.’ ‘Well!’ said the colonel; ‘then we got it all from the old‘And the popular instructed—what do they do?’ asked country, and the old country’s to blame for it, and not theMartin.new ‘un. There’s an end of that. Now, if Mr Jefferson Brick‘Buy ‘em:’ said the colonel.and you will be so good as to clear, I’ll come out last, andMr Jefferson Brick expectorated and laughed; the former lock the door.’copiously, the latter approvingly.Rightly interpreting this as the signal for their departure,‘Buy ‘em by hundreds of thousands,’ resumed the colonel. Martin walked downstairs after the war correspondent, who‘We are a smart people here, and can appreciate smartness.’ preceded him with great majesty. The colonel following, they‘Is smartness American for forgery?’ asked Martin. left the Rowdy Journal Office and walked forth into the streets;‘Well!’ said the colonel, ‘I expect it’s American for a good Martin feeling doubtful whether he ought to kick the colonelfor having presumed to speak to him, or whether it camemany things that you call by other names. But you can’t helpyourself in Europe. We can.’within the bounds of possibility that he and his establish-269

Martin Chuzzlewitment could be among the boasted usages of that regenerated the green street-door; a shining white ornament on the railsland.on either side like a petrified pineapple, polished; a little oblongplate of the same material over the knocker whereon theIt was clear that Colonel Diver, in the security of his strongposition, and in his perfect understanding of the public sentiment,cared very little what Martin or anybody else thought ing down the area.name of ‘Pawkins’ was engraved; and four accidental pigs look-about him. His high-spiced wares were made to sell, and they The colonel knocked at this house with the air of a mansold; and his thousands of readers could as rationally charge who lived there; and an Irish girl popped her head out of onetheir delight in filth upon him, as a glutton can shift upon his of the top windows to see who it was. Pending her journeycook the responsibility of his beastly excess. Nothing would downstairs, the pigs were joined by two or three friends fromhave delighted the colonel more than to be told that no such the next street, in company with whom they lay down sociablyin the gutter.man as he could walk in high success the streets of any othercountry in the world; for that would only have been a logical ‘Is the major indoors?’ inquired the colonel, as he entered.assurance to him of the correct adaptation of his labours to ‘Is it the master, sir?’ returned the girl, with a hesitationthe prevailing taste, and of his being strictly and peculiarly a which seemed to imply that they were rather flush of majorsnational feature of America.in that establishment.They walked a mile or more along a handsome street which ‘The master!’ said Colonel Diver, stopping short and lookinground at his war correspondent.the colonel said was called Broadway, and which Mr JeffersonBrick said ‘whipped the universe.’ Turning, at length, into ‘Oh! The depressing institutions of that British empire,one of the numerous streets which branched from this main colonel!’ said Jefferson Brick. ‘Master!’thoroughfare, they stopped before a rather mean-looking house ‘What’s the matter with the word?’ asked Martin.with jalousie blinds to every window; a flight of steps before ‘I should hope it was never heard in our country, sir; that’s270

Charles Dickensall,’ said Jefferson Brick; ‘except when it is used by some degradedHelp, as new to the blessings of our form of govern-who amused himself by spitting alternately into the spittoona rocking-chair, lounged a large gentleman with his hat on,ment, as this Help is. There are no masters here.’on the right hand of the stove, and the spittoon on the left,‘All “owners,” are they?’ said Martin.and then working his way back again in the same order. AMr Jefferson Brick followed in the Rowdy Journal’s footstepswithout returning any answer. Martin took the same ing on the table two long rows of knives and forks, relieved atnegro lad in a soiled white jacket was busily engaged in plac-course, thinking as he went, that perhaps the free and independentcitizens, who in their moral elevation, owned the of this festive board, he straightened with his dirty hands theintervals by jugs of water; and as he travelled down one sidecolonel for their master, might render better homage to the dirtier cloth, which was all askew, and had not been removedgoddess, Liberty, in nightly dreams upon the oven of a RussianSerf.intensely hot and stifling by the stove; but being furthersince breakfast. The atmosphere of this room was renderedThe colonel led the way into a room at the back of the flavoured by a sickly gush of soup from the kitchen, and byhouse upon the ground-floor, light, and of fair dimensions, such remote suggestions of tobacco as lingered within thebut exquisitely uncomfortable; having nothing in it but the brazen receptacles already mentioned, it became, to a stranger’sfour cold white walls and ceiling, a mean carpet, a dreary waste senses, almost insupportable.of dining-table reaching from end to end, and a bewildering The gentleman in the rocking-chair having his back towardscollection of cane-bottomed chairs. In the further region of them, and being much engaged in his intellectual pastime, wasthis banqueting-hall was a stove, garnished on either side with not aware of their approach until the colonel, walking up toa great brass spittoon, and shaped in itself like three little iron the stove, contributed his mite towards the support of the lefthandspittoon, just as the major—for it was the major—borebarrels set up on end in a fender, and joined together on theprinciple of the Siamese Twins. Before it, swinging himself in down upon it. Major Pawkins then reserved his fire, and look-271

Martin Chuzzlewiting upward, said, with a peculiar air of quiet weariness, like a Major Pawkins (a gentleman of Pennsylvanian origin) wasman who had been up all night—an air which Martin had distinguished by a very large skull, and a great mass of yellowalready observed both in the colonel and Mr Jefferson Brick— forehead; in deference to which commodities it was currently‘Well, colonel!’held in bar-rooms and other such places of resort that the‘Here is a gentleman from England, major,’ the colonel replied,‘who has concluded to locate himself here if the amount by a heavy eye and a dull slow manner; and for being a manmajor was a man of huge sagacity. He was further to be knownof compensation suits him.’of that kind who—mentally speaking—requires a deal of‘I am glad to see you, sir,’ observed the major, shaking hands room to turn himself in. But, in trading on his stock of wisdom,he invariably proceeded on the principle of putting allwith Martin, and not moving a muscle of his face. ‘You arepretty bright, I hope?’the goods he had (and more) into his window; and that went‘Never better,’ said Martin.a great way with his constituency of admirers. It went a great‘You are never likely to be,’ returned the major. ‘You will way, perhaps, with Mr Jefferson Brick, who took occasion tosee the sun shine here.’whisper in Martin’s ear:‘I think I remember to have seen it shine at home sometimes,’said Martin, smiling.It must not be supposed, however, that the perpetual exhi-‘One of the most remarkable men in our country, sir!’‘I think not,’ replied the major. He said so with a stoical bition in the market-place of all his stock-in-trade for sale orindifference certainly, but still in a tone of firmness which admittedof no further dispute on that point. When he had thus thy and support. He was a great politician; and the one articlehire, was the major’s sole claim to a very large share of sympa-settled the question, he put his hat a little on one side for the of his creed, in reference to all public obligations involvinggreater convenience of scratching his head, and saluted Mr the good faith and integrity of his country, was, ‘run a moistJefferson Brick with a lazy nod.pen slick through everything, and start fresh.’ This made him272

Charles Dickensa patriot. In commercial affairs he was a bold speculator. In ‘You have come to visit our country, sir, at a season of greatplainer words he had a most distinguished genius for swindling,and could start a bank, or negotiate a loan, or form a ‘At an alarming crisis,’ said the colonel.commercial depression,’ said the major.land-jobbing company (entailing ruin, pestilence, and death, ‘At a period of unprecedented stagnation,’ said Mr Jeffersonon hundreds of families), with any gifted creature in the Union. Brick.This made him an admirable man of business. He could hang ‘I am sorry to hear that,’ returned Martin. ‘It’s not likely toabout a bar-room, discussing the affairs of the nation, for last, I hope?’twelve hours together; and in that time could hold forth with Martin knew nothing about America, or he would havemore intolerable dulness, chew more tobacco, smoke more known perfectly well that if its individual citizens, to a man,tobacco, drink more rum-toddy, mint-julep, gin-sling, and are to be believed, it always is depressed, and always IS stagnated,and always IS at an alarming crisis, and never was oth-cocktail, than any private gentleman of his acquaintance. Thismade him an orator and a man of the people. In a word, the erwise; though as a body they are ready to make oath uponmajor was a rising character, and a popular character, and was the Evangelists at any hour of the day or night, that it is thein a fair way to be sent by the popular party to the State most thriving and prosperous of all countries on the habitableglobe.House of New York, if not in the end to Washington itself.But as a man’s private prosperity does not always keep pace ‘It’s not likely to last, I hope?’ said Martin.with his patriotic devotion to public affairs; and as fraudulent ‘Well!’ returned the major, ‘I expect we shall get along somehow,and come right in the end.’transactions have their downs as well as ups, the major wasoccasionally under a cloud. Hence, just now Mrs Pawkins ‘We are an elastic country,’ said the Rowdy Journal.kept a boarding-house, and Major Pawkins rather ‘loafed’ his ‘We are a young lion,’ said Mr Jefferson Brick.time away than otherwise.‘We have revivifying and vigorous principles within our-273

Martin Chuzzlewitselves,’ observed the major. ‘Shall we drink a bitter afore dinner,colonel?’that preserve, and tossed on some congenial dunghill.public garden, with great advantage to the decent growth ofThe colonel assenting to this proposal with great alacrity, They encountered more weeds in the bar-room, some ofMajor Pawkins proposed an adjournment to a neighbouring whom (being thirsty souls as well as dirty) were pretty stale inbar-room, which, as he observed, was ‘only in the next block.’ one sense, and pretty fresh in another. Among them was aHe then referred Martin to Mrs Pawkins for all particulars gentleman who, as Martin gathered from the conversationconnected with the rate of board and lodging, and informed that took place over the bitter, started that afternoon for thehim that he would have the pleasure of seeing that lady at Far West on a six months’ business tour, and who, as his outfitand equipment for this journey, had just such another shinydinner, which would soon be ready, as the dinner hour wastwo o’clock, and it only wanted a quarter now. This reminded hat and just such another little pale valise as had composedhim that if the bitter were to be taken at all, there was no the luggage of the gentleman who came from England in thetime to lose; so he walked off without more ado, and left Screw.them to follow if they thought proper.They were walking back very leisurely; Martin arm-in-armWhen the major rose from his rocking-chair before the stove, with Mr Jefferson Brick, and the major and the colonel sideby-sidebefore them; when, as they came within a house orand so disturbed the hot air and balmy whiff of soup whichfanned their brows, the odour of stale tobacco became so decidedlyprevalent as to leave no doubt of its proceeding mainly lently. The instant this sound struck upon their ears, the colo-two of the major’s residence, they heard a bell ringing vio-from that gentleman’s attire. Indeed, as Martin walked behind nel and the major darted off, dashed up the steps and in at thehim to the bar-room, he could not help thinking that the great street-door (which stood ajar) like lunatics; while Mr Jeffersonsquare major, in his listlessness and langour, looked very much Brick, detaching his arm from Martin’s, made a precipitatelike a stale weed himself; such as might be hoed out of the dive in the same direction, and vanished also.274

Charles Dickens‘Good Heaven!’ thought Martin. ‘The premises are on fire! yet,’ said Martin clapping him on the back, ‘and give me aIt was an alarm bell!’better appetite than bitters.’But there was no smoke to be seen, nor any flame, nor was With this sentiment he walked into the dining-room andthere any smell of fire. As Martin faltered on the pavement, slipped into a chair next the colonel, which that gentlemanthree more gentlemen, with horror and agitation depicted in (by this time nearly through his dinner) had turned down intheir faces, came plunging wildly round the street corner; jostled reserve for him, with its back against the table.each other on the steps; struggled for an instant; and rushed It was a numerous company—eighteen or twenty perhaps.into the house, a confused heap of arms and legs. Unable to Of these some five or six were ladies, who sat wedged togetherin a little phalanx by themselves. All the knives andbear it any longer, Martin followed. Even in his rapid progresshe was run down, thrust aside, and passed, by two more gentlemen,stark mad, as it appeared, with fierce excitement. very few words were spoken; and everybody seemed to eat hisforks were working away at a rate that was quite alarming;‘Where is it?’ cried Martin, breathlessly, to a negro whom utmost in self-defence, as if a famine were expected to set inhe encountered in the passage.before breakfast time to-morrow morning, and it had becomehigh time to assert the first law of nature. The poultry,‘In a eatin room, sa. Kernell, sa, him kep a seat ‘side himself,sa.’which may perhaps be considered to have formed the staple‘A seat!’ cried Martin.of the entertainment—for there was a turkey at the top, a‘For a dinnar, sa.’pair of ducks at the bottom, and two fowls in the middle—Martin started at him for a moment, and burst into a hearty disappeared as rapidly as if every bird had had the use of itslaugh; to which the negro, out of his natural good humour wings, and had flown in desperation down a human throat.and desire to please, so heartily responded, that his teeth shone The oysters, stewed and pickled, leaped from their capaciouslike a gleam of light. ‘You’re the pleasantest fellow I have seen reservoirs, and slid by scores into the mouths of the assembly.275

Martin ChuzzlewitThe sharpest pickles vanished, whole cucumbers at once, like ‘No, no,’ said Martin, ‘I mean the little girl, like a doll;sugar-plums, and no man winked his eye. Great heaps of indigestiblematter melted away as ice before the sun. It was a ‘Well, sir!’ cried the colonel. ‘that is Mrs Jefferson Brick.’directly opposite.’solemn and an awful thing to see. Dyspeptic individuals bolted Martin glanced at the colonel’s face, but he was quite serious.their food in wedges; feeding, not themselves, but broods ofnightmares, who were continually standing at livery within ‘Bless my soul! I suppose there will be a young Brick then,them. Spare men, with lank and rigid cheeks, came out unsatisfiedfrom the destruction of heavy dishes, and glared with ‘There are two young Bricks already, sir,’ returned the colo-one of these days?’ said Martin.watchful eyes upon the pastry. What Mrs Pawkins felt each nel.day at dinner-time is hidden from all human knowledge. But The matron looked so uncommonly like a child herself, thatshe had one comfort. It was very soon over.Martin could not help saying as much. ‘Yes, sir,’ returned theWhen the colonel had finished his dinner, which event took colonel, ‘but some institutions develop human natur; othersplace while Martin, who had sent his plate for some turkey, re—tard it.’was waiting to begin, he asked him what he thought of the ‘Jefferson Brick,’ he observed after a short silence, in commendationof his correspondent, ‘is one of the most remark-boarders, who were from all parts of the Union, and whetherhe would like to know any particulars concerning them. able men in our country, sir!’‘Pray,’ said Martin, ‘who is that sickly little girl opposite, This had passed almost in a whisper, for the distinguishedwith the tight round eyes? I don’t see anybody here, who looks gentleman alluded to sat on Martin’s other hand.like her mother, or who seems to have charge of her.’ ‘Pray, Mr Brick,’ said Martin, turning to him, and asking a‘Do you mean the matron in blue, sir?’ asked the colonel, question more for conversation’s sake than from any feelingwith emphasis. ‘That is Mrs Jefferson Brick, sir.’of interest in its subject, ‘who is that;’ he was going to say276

Charles Dickens‘young’ but thought it prudent to eschew the word—’that did not, where on earth the privates came from. There seemedvery short gentleman yonder, with the red nose?’to be no man there without a title; for those who had not‘That is Pro—fessor Mullit, sir,’ replied Jefferson. attained to military honours were either doctors, professors,‘May I ask what he is professor of?’ asked Martin. or reverends. Three very hard and disagreeable gentlemen were‘Of education, sir,’ said Jefferson Brick.on missions from neighbouring States; one on monetary affairs,one on political, one on sectarian. Among the ladies,‘A sort of schoolmaster, possibly?’ Martin ventured to observe.there were Mrs Pawkins, who was very straight, bony, and‘He is a man of fine moral elements, sir, and not commonlyendowed,’ said the war correspondent. ‘He felt it necmentstouching the rights of women, and had diffused thesilent; and a wiry-faced old damsel, who held strong sentiessary,at the last election for President, to repudiate and denouncehis father, who voted on the wrong interest. He has vidual traits of character, insomuch that any one of them mightsame in lectures; but the rest were strangely devoid of indi-since written some powerful pamphlets, under the signature have changed minds with the other, and nobody would haveof “Suturb,” or Brutus reversed. He is one of the most remarkablemen in our country, sir.’the party who did not appear to be among the most remark-found it out. These, by the way, were the only members of‘There seem to be plenty of ‘em,’ thought Martin, ‘at any able people in the country.rate.’Several of the gentlemen got up, one by one, and walkedPursuing his inquiries Martin found that there were no fewer off as they swallowed their last morsel; pausing generally bythan four majors present, two colonels, one general, and a the stove for a minute or so to refresh themselves at the brasscaptain, so that he could not help thinking how strongly spittoons. A few sedentary characters, however, remained atofficered the American militia must be; and wondering very table full a quarter of an hour, and did not rise until the ladiesmuch whether the officers commanded each other; or if they rose, when all stood up.277

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Where are they going?’ asked Martin, in the ear of Mr tions, seemed to be melted down into dollars. Whatever theJefferson Brick.chance contributions that fell into the slow cauldron of their‘To their bedrooms, sir.’talk, they made the gruel thick and slab with dollars. Men‘Is there no dessert, or other interval of conversation?’ asked were weighed by their dollars, measures gauged by their dollars;life was auctioneered, appraised, put up, and knockedMartin, who was disposed to enjoy himself after his longvoyage.down for its dollars. The next respectable thing to dollars was‘We are a busy people here, sir, and have no time for that,’ any venture having their attainment for its end. The more ofwas the reply.that worthless ballast, honour and fair-dealing, which any manSo the ladies passed out in single file; Mr Jefferson Brick cast overboard from the ship of his Good Name and Goodand such other married gentlemen as were left, acknowledgingthe departure of their other halves by a nod; and there was Make commerce one huge lie and mighty theft. Deface theIntent, the more ample stowage-room he had for dollars.an end of them. Martin thought this an uncomfortable custom,but he kept his opinion to himself for the present, be-cut out stripe by stripe as from the arm of a degraded soldier.banner of the nation for an idle rag; pollute it star by star; anding anxious to hear, and inform himself by, the conversation Do anything for dollars! What is a flag to them!of the busy gentlemen, who now lounged about the stove as One who rides at all hazards of limb and life in the chase ofif a great weight had been taken off their minds by the withdrawalof the other sex; and who made a plentiful use of the with these gentlemen. He was the greatest patriot, in theira fox, will prefer to ride recklessly at most times. So it wasspittoons and their toothpicks.eyes, who brawled the loudest, and who cared the least forIt was rather barren of interest, to say the truth; and the decency. He was their champion who, in the brutal fury ofgreater part of it may be summed up in one word. Dollars. his own pursuit, could cast no stigma upon them for the hotAll their cares, hopes, joys, affections, virtues, and associa-knavery of theirs. Thus, Martin learned in the five minutes’278

Charles Dickensstraggling talk about the stove, that to carry pistols into legislativeassemblies, and swords in sticks, and other such peace-your books.’along with almighty strong stuff of another sort, but darnful toys; to seize opponents by the throat, as dogs or rats Here the general, who appeared to grow quite faint at themight do; to bluster, bully, and overbear by personal assailment;were glowing deeds. Not thrusts and stabs at Freedom, tile nor political, and was not in a newspaper, inquired ‘if anybare thought of reading anything which was neither mercan-striking far deeper into her House of Life than any sultan’s gentleman would drink some?’ Most of the company, consideringthis a very choice and seasonable idea, lounged out,scimitar could reach; but rare incense on her altars, having agrateful scent in patriotic nostrils, and curling upward to the one by one, to the bar-room in the next block. Thence theyseventh heaven of Fame.probably went to their stores and counting-houses; thence toOnce or twice, when there was a pause, Martin asked such the bar-room again, to talk once more of dollars, and enlargequestions as naturally occurred to him, being a stranger, about their minds with the perusal and discussion of screamers; andthe national poets, the theatre, literature, and the arts. But the thence each man to snore in the bosom of his own family.information which these gentlemen were in a condition to ‘Which would seem,’ said Martin, pursuing the current ofgive him on such topics, did not extend beyond the effusions his own thoughts, ‘to be the principal recreation they enjoy inof such master-spirits of the time as Colonel Diver, Mr common.’ With that, he fell a-musing again on dollars, demagogues,and bar-rooms; debating within himself whether busyJefferson Brick, and others; renowned, as it appeared, for excellencein the achievement of a peculiar style of broadside people of this class were really as busy as they claimed to be,essay called ‘a screamer.’or only had an inaptitude for social and domestic pleasure.‘We are a busy people, sir,’ said one of the captains, who It was a difficult question to solve; and the mere fact of itswas from the West, ‘and have no time for reading mere notions.We don’t mind ‘em if they come to us in newspapers and heard, was not encouraging. He sat down at thebeing strongly presented to his mind by all that he had seendeserted279

Martin Chuzzlewitboard, and becoming more and more despondent, as he ‘You are so very frank,’ returned Martin, ‘that I have nothought of all the uncertainties and difficulties of his precarioussituation, sighed heavily.that I am beholden to him for his civility in bringing mehesitation in saying I don’t like him at all. Though I must addNow, there had been at the dinner-table a middle-aged man here—and arranging for my stay, on pretty reasonable terms,with a dark eye and a sunburnt face, who had attracted Martin’s by the way,’ he added, remembering that the colonel hadattention by having something very engaging and honest in the whispered him to that effect, before going out.expression of his features; but of whom he could learn nothing ‘Not much beholden,’ said the stranger drily. ‘The colonelfrom either of his neighbours, who seemed to consider him occasionally boards packet-ships, I have heard, to glean thequite beneath their notice. He had taken no part in the conversationround the stove, nor had he gone forth with the rest; and strangers to board here, I believe, with a view to the littlelatest information for his journal; and he occasionally bringsnow, when he heard Martin sigh for the third or fourth time, percentage which attaches to those good offices; and whichhe interposed with some casual remark, as if he desired, withoutobtruding himself upon a stranger’s notice, to engage him hope?’ he added, seeing that Martin reddened.the hostess deducts from his weekly bill. I don’t offend you, Iin cheerful conversation if he could. His motive was so obvious,and yet so delicately expressed, that Martin felt really grate-is that possible! to tell you the truth, I—am—’‘My dear sir,’ returned Martin, as they shook hands, ‘howful to him, and showed him so in the manner of his reply. ‘Yes?’ said the gentleman, sitting down beside him.‘I will not ask you,’ said this gentleman with a smile, as he ‘I am rather at a loss, since I must speak plainly,’ said Martin,getting the better of his hesitation, ‘to know how thisrose and moved towards him, ‘how you like my country, forI can quite anticipate your feeling on that point. But, as I am colonel escapes being beaten.’an American, and consequently bound to begin with a question,I’ll ask you how you like the colonel?’gentleman quietly. ‘He is one of a class of men, in whom‘Well! He has been beaten once or twice,’ remarked theour280

Charles Dickensown Franklin, so long ago as ten years before the close of the breathe this air. If another Juvenal or Swift could rise up amonglast century, foresaw our danger and disgrace. Perhaps you us to-morrow, he would be hunted down. If you have anydon’t know that Franklin, in very severe terms, published his knowledge of our literature, and can give me the name of anyopinion that those who were slandered by such fellows as this man, American born and bred, who has anatomized our folliesas a people, and not as this or that party; and who hascolonel, having no sufficient remedy in the administration ofthis country’s laws or in the decent and right-minded feeling escaped the foulest and most brutal slander, the most inveteratehatred and intolerant pursuit; it will be a strange name inof its people, were justified in retorting on such public nuisancesby means of a stout cudgel?’my ears, believe me. In some cases I could name to you, where‘I was not aware of that,’ said Martin, ‘but I am very glad to a native writer has ventured on the most harmless and goodhumouredillustrations of our vices or defects, it has beenknow it, and I think it worthy of his memory; especially’—here he hesitated again.found necessary to announce, that in a second edition the‘Go on,’ said the other, smiling as if he knew what stuck in passage has been expunged, or altered, or explained away, orMartin’s throat.patched into praise.’‘Especially,’ pursued Martin, ‘as I can already understand ‘And how has this been brought about?’ asked Martin, inthat it may have required great courage, even in his time, to dismay.write freely on any question which was not a party one in this ‘Think of what you have seen and heard to-day, beginningvery free country.’with the colonel,’ said his friend, ‘and ask yourself. How THEY‘Some courage, no doubt,’ returned his new friend. ‘Do came about, is another question. Heaven forbid that theyyou think it would require any to do so, now?’should be samples of the intelligence and virtue of America,‘Indeed I think it would; and not a little,’ said Martin. but they come uppermost, and in great numbers, and too‘You are right. So very right, that I believe no satirist could often represent it. Will you walk?’281

Martin ChuzzlewitThere was a cordial candour in his manner, and an engagingCHAPTER SEVENTEENconfidence that it would not be abused; a manly bearing onhis own part, and a simple reliance on the manly faith of aMARTIN ENLARGES HIS CIRCLE OFstranger; which Martin had never seen before. He linked hisAQUAINTANCE; INCREASES HIS STOCKarm readily in that of the American gentleman, and theyOF WISDOM; AND HAS AN EXCELLENTwalked out together.OPPORTUNITY OF COMPARING HISIt was perhaps to men like this, his new companion, that aOWN EXPERIENCES WITH THOSE OFtraveller of honoured name, who trod those shores now nearlyLUMMY NED OF THE LIGHT SALISBURY,forty years ago, and woke upon that soil, as many have doneAS RELATED BY HIS FRIENDsince, to blots and stains upon its high pretensions, which inMR WILLIAM SIMMONSthe brightness of his distant dreams were lost to view, appealedin these words—IT WAS CHARACTERISTIC of Martin, that all this while he had‘Oh, but for such, Columbia’s days were done; Rank withoutripeness, quickened without sun, Crude at the surface,either forgotten Mark Tapley as completely as if there hadbeen no such person in existence, or, if for a moment therotten at the core, Her fruits would fall before her springfigure of that gentleman rose before his mental vision, hadwere o’er!’dismissed it as something by no means of a pressing nature,which might be attended to by-and-bye, and could wait hisperfect leisure. But, being now in the streets again, it occurredto him as just coming within the bare limits of possibilitythat Mr Tapley might, in course of time, grow tired of waitingon the threshold of the Rowdy Journal Office, so he inti-282

Charles Dickensmated to his new friend, that if they could conveniently walk back here with a greater relish for my country’s faults; with ain that direction, he would be glad to get this piece of businessoff his mind.dollars a day) to be her friends; with a cooler indifference to thegreater fondness for those who claim (at the rate of so many‘And speaking of business,’ said Martin, ‘may I ask, in order growth of principles among us in respect of public matters andthat I may not be behind-hand with questions either, whether of private dealings between man and man, the advocacy of which,your occupation holds you to this city, or like myself, you are beyond the foul atmosphere of a criminal trial, would disgracea visitor here?’your own old Bailey lawyers; why, then I answer plainly, No.’‘A visitor,’ replied his friend. ‘I was “raised” in the State of ‘Oh!’ said Martin; in so exactly the same key as his friend’sMassachusetts, and reside there still. My home is in a quiet No, that it sounded like an echo.country town. I am not often in these busy places; and my ‘If you ask me,’ his companion pursued, ‘whether I cameinclination to visit them does not increase with our better back here better satisfied with a state of things which broadlyacquaintance, I assure you.’divides society into two classes—whereof one, the great mass,‘You have been abroad?’ asked Martin,asserts a spurious independence, most miserably dependent for‘Oh yes.’its mean existence on the disregard of humanizing conventionalitiesof manner and social custom, so that the coarser a man‘And, like most people who travel, have become more thanever attached to your home and native country,’ said Martin, is, the more distinctly it shall appeal to his taste; while the other,eyeing him curiously.disgusted with the low standard thus set up and made adaptableto everything, takes refuge among the graces and refine-‘To my home—yes,’ rejoined his friend. ‘To my native countryAS my home—yes, also.’ments it can bring to bear on private life, and leaves the public‘You imply some reservation,’ said Martin.weal to such fortune as may betide it in the press and uproar of‘Well,’ returned his new friend, ‘if you ask me whether I came a general scramble—then again I answer, No.’283

Martin ChuzzlewitAnd again Martin said ‘Oh!’ in the same odd way as before, more, and made less noise about it. We shine out brightly inbeing anxious and disconcerted; not so much, to say the truth, comparison with England, certainly; but hers is a very extremecase. You complimented me on my frankness, youon public grounds, as with reference to the fading prospectsof domestic architecture.know,’ he added, laughing.‘In a word,’ resumed the other, ‘I do not find and cannot ‘Oh! I am not at all astonished at your speaking thus openlybelieve and therefore will not allow, that we are a model of when my country is in question,’ returned Martin. ‘It is yourwisdom, and an example to the world, and the perfection of plain-speaking in reference to your own that surprises me.’human reason, and a great deal more to the same purpose, ‘You will not find it a scarce quality here, I assure you, savingamong the Colonel Divers, and Jefferson Bricks, and Majorwhich you may hear any hour in the day; simply because webegan our political life with two inestimable advantages.’ Pawkinses; though the best of us are something like the man‘What were they?’ asked Martin.in Goldsmith’s comedy, who wouldn’t suffer anybody but‘One, that our history commenced at so late a period as to himself to abuse his master. Come!’ he added. ‘Let us talk ofescape the ages of bloodshed and cruelty through which other something else. You have come here on some design of improvingyour fortune, I dare say; and I should grieve to putnations have passed; and so had all the light of their probation,and none of its darkness. The other, that we have a vast you out of heart. I am some years older than you, besides;territory, and not—as yet—too many people on it. These and may, on a few trivial points, advise you, perhaps.’facts considered, we have done little enough, I think.’ There was not the least curiosity or impertinence in the‘Education?’ suggested Martin, faintly.manner of this offer, which was open-hearted, unaffected,‘Pretty well on that head,’ said the other, shrugging his and good-natured. As it was next to impossible that he shouldshoulders, ‘still no mighty matter to boast of; for old countries,and despotic countries too, have done as much, if not possessing and kind, Martin plainly stated what hadnot have his confidence awakened by a deportment so pre-brought284

Charles Dickenshim into those parts, and even made the very difficult avowal connected with himself and family, which fully occupied thethat he was poor. He did not say how poor, it must be admitted,rather throwing off the declaration with an air which Mr Tapley appeared to be taking his ease on the landing oftime, until they reached the Rowdy Journal Office.might have implied that he had money enough for six months, the first floor; for sounds as of some gentleman established ininstead of as many weeks; but poor he said he was, and gratefulhe said he would be, for any counsel that his friend would main, greeted their ears before they reached the house. Onthat region whistling ‘Rule Britannia’ with all his might andgive him.ascending to the spot from whence this music proceeded, theyIt would not have been very difficult for any one to see; but found him recumbent in the midst of a fortification of luggage,apparently performing his national anthem for the grati-it was particularly easy for Martin, whose perceptions weresharpened by his circumstances, to discern; that the stranger’s fication of a grey-haired black man, who sat on one of theface grew infinitely longer as the domestic-architecture project outworks (a portmanteau), staring intently at Mark, whilewas developed. Nor, although he made a great effort to be as Mark, with his head reclining on his hand, returned the complimentin a thoughtful manner, and whistled all the time.encouraging as possible, could he prevent his head from shakingonce involuntarily, as if it said in the vulgar tongue, upon He seemed to have recently dined, for his knife, a casebottle,its own account, ‘No go!’ But he spoke in a cheerful tone, and certain broken meats in a handkerchief, lay near at hand.and said, that although there was no such opening as Martin He had employed a portion of his leisure in the decoration ofwished, in that city, he would make it matter of immediate the Rowdy Journal door, whereon his own initials now appearedin letters nearly half a foot long, together with the dayconsideration and inquiry where one was most likely to exist;and then he made Martin acquainted with his name, which of the month in smaller type; the whole surrounded by anwas Bevan; and with his profession, which was physic, though ornamental border, and looking very fresh and bold.he seldom or never practiced; and with other circumstances ‘I was a’most afraid you was lost, sir!’ cried Mark, rising,285

Martin Chuzzlewitand stopping the tune at that point where Britons generally ‘Had he bought land?’ asked Mr Bevan.are supposed to declare (when it is whistled) that they never, ‘Ah! He’d bought land,’ said Mark, shaking his head, ‘andnever, never—paid for it too. Every sort of nateral advantage was connected‘Nothing gone wrong, I hope, sir?’with it, the agents said; and there certainly was ONE, quite‘No, Mark. Where’s your friend?’unlimited. No end to the water!’‘The mad woman, sir?’ said Mr Tapley. ‘Oh! she’s all right, sir.’ ‘It’s a thing he couldn’t have done without, I suppose,’ observedMartin, peevishly.‘Did she find her husband?’‘Yes, sir. Leastways she’s found his remains,’ said Mark, correctinghimself.and no water-rate. Independent of three or four slimy old riv-‘Certainly not, sir. There it was, any way; always turned on,‘The man’s not dead, I hope?’ers close by, it varied on the farm from four to six foot deep in‘Not altogether dead, sir,’ returned Mark; ‘but he’s had more the dry season. He couldn’t say how deep it was in the rainyfevers and agues than is quite reconcilable with being alive. time, for he never had anything long enough to sound it with.’When she didn’t see him a-waiting for her, I thought she’d ‘Is this true?’ asked Martin of his companion.have died herself, I did!’‘Extremely probable,’ he answered. ‘Some Mississippi or‘Was he not here, then?’Missouri lot, I dare say.’‘He wasn’t here. There was a feeble old shadow come a- ‘However,’ pursued Mark, ‘he came from I-don’t-knowwhere-and-all,down to New York here, to meet his wife andcreeping down at last, as much like his substance when sheknow’d him, as your shadow when it’s drawn out to its very children; and they started off again in a steamboat this blessedfinest and longest by the sun, is like you. But it was his remains,there’s no doubt about that. She took on with joy, were going to Heaven. I should think they was, pretty straight,afternoon, as happy to be along with each other as if theypoor thing, as much as if it had been all of him!’if I may judge from the poor man’s looks.’286

Charles Dickens‘And may I ask,’ said Martin, glancing, but not with any ‘Is this true?’ asked Martin of his friend, who stood besidedispleasure, from Mark to the negro, ‘who this gentleman is? them.Another friend of yours?’‘I have no reason to doubt it,’ he answered, shaking his‘Why sir,’ returned Mark, taking him aside, and speaking head ‘It very often is.’confidentially in his ear, ‘he’s a man of colour, sir!’‘Bless you,’ said Mark, ‘I know it is, from hearing his whole‘Do you take me for a blind man,’ asked Martin, somewhatimpatiently, ‘that you think it necessary to tell me that, his head cut open with a hatchet by another slave, who, whenstory. That master died; so did his second master from havingwhen his face is the blackest that ever was seen?’he’d done it, went and drowned himself; then he got a better‘No, no; when I say a man of colour,’ returned Mark, ‘I one; in years and years he saved up a little money, and boughtmean that he’s been one of them as there’s picters of in the his freedom, which he got pretty cheap at last, on account ofshops. A man and a brother, you know, sir,’ said Mr Tapley, his strength being nearly gone, and he being ill. Then he comefavouring his master with a significant indication of the figureso often represented in tracts and cheap prints.to one small purchase—it’s nothing to speak of. Only hishere. And now he’s a-saving up to treat himself, afore he dies,‘A slave!’ cried Martin, in a whisper.own daughter; that’s all!’ cried Mr Tapley, becoming excited.‘Ah!’ said Mark in the same tone. ‘Nothing else. A slave. Why, ‘Liberty for ever! Hurrah! Hail, Columbia!’when that there man was young—don’t look at him while I’m a- ‘Hush!’ cried Martin, clapping his hand upon his mouth;telling it—he was shot in the leg; gashed in the arm; scored in his live ‘and don’t be an idiot. What is he doing here?’limbs, like crimped fish; beaten out of shape; had his neck galled ‘Waiting to take our luggage off upon a truck,’ said Mark.with an iron collar, and wore iron rings upon his wrists and ankles. ‘He’d have come for it by-and-bye, but I engaged him for aThe marks are on him to this day. When I was having my dinner just very reasonable charge (out of my own pocket) to sit alongnow, he stripped off his coat, and took away my appetite.’ with me and make me jolly; and I am jolly; and if I was rich287

Martin Chuzzlewitenough to contract with him to wait upon me once a day, to with his portion of their worldly goods; Mark Tapley havingbe looked at, I’d never be anything else.’already gone before with his share.The fact may cause a solemn impeachment of Mark’s veracity,but it must be admitted nevertheless, that there was and were about to pursue their walk, when the latter stopped,Martin and his friend followed them to the door below,that in his face and manner at the moment, which militated and asked, with some hesitation, whether that young manstrongly against this emphatic declaration of his state of mind. was to be trusted?‘Lord love you, sir,’ he added, ‘they’re so fond of Liberty in ‘Mark! oh certainly! with anything.’this part of the globe, that they buy her and sell her and carry ‘You don’t understand me—I think he had better go withher to market with ‘em. They’ve such a passion for Liberty, us. He is an honest fellow, and speaks his mind so very plainly.’that they can’t help taking liberties with her. That’s what it’s ‘Why, the fact is,’ said Martin, smiling, ‘that being unaccustomedto a free republic, he is used to do so.’owing to.’‘Very well,’ said Martin, wishing to change the theme. ‘Havingcome to that conclusion, Mark, perhaps you’ll attend to may get into some trouble otherwise. This is not a slave State;‘I think he had better go with us,’ returned the other. ‘Heme. The place to which the luggage is to go is printed on this but I am ashamed to say that a spirit of Tolerance is not socard. Mrs Pawkins’s Boarding House.’common anywhere in these latitudes as the form. We are not‘Mrs Pawkins’s boarding-house,’ repeated Mark. ‘Now, remarkable for behaving very temperately to each other whenCicero.’we differ; but to strangers! no, I really think he had better go‘Is that his name?’ asked Martinwith us.’‘That’s his name, sir,’ rejoined Mark. And the negro grinningassent from under a leathern portmanteau, than which Cicero and the truck went one way, and they three went an-Martin called to him immediately to be of their party; sohis own face was many shades deeper, hobbled downstairs other.288

Charles DickensThey walked about the city for two or three hours; seeing it Commending Mark to the care of this phenomenon—forfrom the best points of view, and pausing in the principal streets, such he may be said to have been in Martin’s eyes—Mr Bevanand before such public buildings as Mr Bevan pointed out. Night led the way into the room which had shed its cheerfulnessthen coming on apace, Martin proposed that they should adjournto Mrs Pawkins’s establishment for coffee; but in this he Chuzzlewit as a gentleman from England, whose acquain-upon the street, to whose occupants he introduced Mrwas overruled by his new acquaintance, who seemed to have set tance he had recently had the pleasure to make. They gavehis heart on carrying him, though it were only for an hour, to the him welcome in all courtesy and politeness; and in less thanhouse of a friend of his who lived hard by. Feeling (however five minutes’ time he found himself sitting very much at hisdisinclined he was, being weary) that it would be in bad taste, ease by the fireside, and becoming vastly well acquainted withand not very gracious, to object that he was unintroduced, when the whole family.this open-hearted gentleman was so ready to be his sponsor, There were two young ladies—one eighteen; the otherMartin—for once in his life, at all events—sacrificed his own twenty—both very slender, but very pretty; their mother, whowill and pleasure to the wishes of another, and consented with a looked, as Martin thought much older and more faded thanfair grace. So travelling had done him that much good, already. she ought to have looked; and their grandmother, a little sharpeyed,quick old woman, who seemed to have got past thatMr Bevan knocked at the door of a very neat house ofmoderate size, from the parlour windows of which, lights stage, and to have come all right again. Besides these, therewere shining brightly into the now dark street. It was quickly were the young ladies’ father, and the young ladies’ brother;opened by a man with such a thoroughly Irish face, that it the first engaged in mercantile affairs; the second, a student atseemed as if he ought, as a matter of right and principle, to be college; both, in a certain cordiality of manner, like his ownin rags, and could have no sort of business to be looking cheerfullyat anybody out of a whole suit of clothes.der, for it soon appeared that he was their near relation.friend, and not unlike him in face. Which was no great won-Mar-289

Martin Chuzzlewittin could not help tracing the family pedigree from the two There was a pleasant thing! But Martin was not quite so gladyoung ladies, because they were foremost in his thoughts; not of this, when he found that they knew all the great dukes,only from being, as aforesaid, very pretty, but by reason of lords, viscounts, marquesses, duchesses, knights, and baronets,quite affectionately, and were beyond everything inter-their wearing miraculously small shoes, and the thinnest possiblesilk stockings; the which their rocking-chairs developed ested in the least particular concerning them. However, whento a distracting extent.they asked, after the wearer of this or that coronet, and said,There is no doubt that it was a monstrous comfortable ‘Was he quite well?’ Martin answered, ‘Yes, oh yes. Nevercircumstance to be sitting in a snug, well-furnished room, better;’ and when they said, ‘his lordship’s mother, the duchess,was she much changed?’ Martin said, ‘Oh dear no, theywarmed by a cheerful fire, and full of various pleasant decorations,including four small shoes, and the like amount of silk would know her anywhere, if they saw her to-morrow;’ andstockings, and—yes, why not?—the feet and legs therein enshrined.And there is no doubt that Martin was monstrous questioned him touching the Gold Fish in that Grecian foun-so got on pretty well. In like manner when the young ladieswell-disposed to regard his position in that light, after his tain in such and such a nobleman’s conservatory, and whetherrecent experience of the Screw, and of Mrs Pawkins’s boarding-house.The consequence was that he made himself very after mature consideration, that there must be at least twice asthere were as many as there used to be, he gravely reported,agreeable indeed; and by the time the tea and coffee arrived many; and as to the exotics, ‘Oh! well! it was of no use talkingabout them; they must be seen to be believed;’ which(with sweet preserves, and cunning tea-cakes in its train), wasin a highly genial state, and much esteemed by the whole improved state of circumstances reminded the family of thefamily.splendour of that brilliant festival (comprehending the wholeAnother delightful circumstance turned up before the first British Peerage and Court Calendar) to which they were speciallyinvited, and which indeed had been partly given in cup of tea was drunk. The whole family had been in England.their290

Charles Dickenshonour; and recollections of what Mr Norris the father had to make some causal inquiry relative to the occupier of thesaid to the marquess, and of what Mrs Norris the mother had next house; in reply to which, this same Mr Norris the fathersaid to the marchioness, and of what the marquess and marchionesshad both said, when they said that upon their words which he couldn’t approve; and therefore he hadn’t the honourobserved, that ‘that person entertained religious opinions ofand honours they wished Mr Norris the father and Mrs Norris of knowing the gentleman.’ Mrs Norris the mother addedthe mother, and the Misses Norris the daughters, and Mr another reason of her own, the same in effect, but varying inNorris Junior, the son, would only take up their permanent words; to wit, that she believed the people were well enoughresidence in England, and give them the pleasure of their everlastingfriendship, occupied a very considerable time. Another little trait came out, which impressed itself onin their way, but they were not genteel.Martin thought it rather stange, and in some sort inconsistent,that during the whole of these narrations, and in the negro, and then it appeared that all the Norrises were aboli-Martin forcibly. Mr Bevan told them about Mark and thevery meridian of their enjoyment thereof, both Mr Norris tionists. It was a great relief to hear this, and Martin was sothe father, and Mr Norris Junior, the son (who corresponded, much encouraged on finding himself in such company, thatevery post, with four members of the English Peerage), enlargedupon the inestimable advantage of having no such ar-blacks. Now, one of the young ladies—the prettiest and mosthe expressed his sympathy with the oppressed and wretchedbitrary distinctions in that enlightened land, where there were delicate—was mightily amused at the earnestness with whichno noblemen but nature’s noblemen, and where all society he spoke; and on his craving leave to ask her why, was quitewas based on one broad level of brotherly love and natural unable for a time to speak for laughing. As soon however asequality. Indeed, Mr Norris the father gradually expanding she could, she told him that the negroes were such a funnyinto an oration on this swelling theme, was becoming tedious,when Mr Bevan diverted his thoughts by happening ance, that it was wholly impossible for those who knewpeople, so excessively ludicrous in their manners and appear-them291

Martin Chuzzlewitwell, to associate any serious ideas with such a very absurd picion that it would be a dangerous theme to revive under thepart of the creation. Mr Norris the father, and Mrs Norris the best of circumstances; and again addressed himself to themother, and Miss Norris the sister, and Mr Norris Junior the young ladies, who were very gorgeously attired in very beautifulcolours, and had every article of dress on the same exten-brother, and even Mrs Norris Senior the grandmother, wereall of this opinion, and laid it down as an absolute matter of sive scale as the little shoes and the thin silk stockings. Thisfact—as if there were nothing in suffering and slavery, grim suggested to him that they were great proficients in the Frenchenough to cast a solemn air on any human animal; though it fashions, which soon turned out to be the case, for thoughwere as ridiculous, physically, as the most grotesque of apes, their information appeared to be none of the newest, it wasor morally, as the mildest Nimrod among tuft-hunting republicanstinguishedby a talent for metaphysics, the laws of hydraulicvery extensive; and the eldest sister in particular, who was dis-‘In short,’ said Mr Norris the father, settling the question pressure, and the rights of human kind, had a novel way ofcomfortably, ‘there is a natural antipathy between the races.’ combining these acquirements and bringing them to bear on‘Extending,’ said Martin’s friend, in a low voice, ‘to the any subject from Millinery to the Millennium, both inclusive,which was at once improving and remarkable; so muchcruellest of tortures, and the bargain and sale of unborn generations.’so, in short, that it was usually observed to reduce foreignersMr Norris the son said nothing, but he made a wry face, to a state of temporary insanity in five minutes.and dusted his fingers as Hamlet might after getting rid of Martin felt his reason going; and as a means of saving himself,besought the other sister (seeing a piano in the room) toYorick’s skull; just as though he had that moment touched anegro, and some of the black had come off upon his hands. sing. With this request she willingly complied; and a bravuraIn order that their talk might fall again into its former pleasantchannel, Martin dropped the subject, with a shrewd susgan.They sang in all languages—except their own.concert, solely sustained by the Misses Noriss, presently be-German,292

Charles DickensFrench, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Swiss; but nothing native;nothing so low as native. For, in this respect, languages and the general was promptly raised. But his uniform was soOf course there was an immediate rush to his assistance;are like many other travellers—ordinary and commonplace fearfully and wonderfully made, that he came up stiff andenough at home, but ‘specially genteel abroad.without a bend in him like a dead Clown, and had no commandwhatever of himself until he was put quite flat uponThere is little doubt that in course of time the Misses Norriswould have come to Hebrew, if they had not been interrupted the soles of his feet, when he became animated as by a miracle,by an announcement from the Irishman, who, flinging open and moving edgewise that he might go in a narrower compassand be in less danger of fraying the gold lace on his epau-the door, cried in a loud voice—‘Jiniral Fladdock!’lettes by brushing them against anything, advanced with a‘My!’ cried the sisters, desisting suddenly. ‘The general come smiling visage to salute the lady of the house.back!’To be sure, it would have been impossible for the family toAs they made the exclamation, the general, attired in full testify purer delight and joy than at this unlooked-for appearanceof General Fladdock! The general was as warmly receiveduniform for a ball, came darting in with such precipitancythat, hitching his boot in the carpet, and getting his sword as if New York had been in a state of siege and no other generalwas to be got for love or money. He shook hands withbetween his legs, he came down headlong, and presented acurious little bald place on the crown of his head to the eyes the Norrises three times all round, and then reviewed themof the astonished company. Nor was this the worst of it; for from a little distance as a brave commander might, with hisbeing rather corpulent and very tight, the general being down, ample cloak drawn forward over the right shoulder and throwncould not get up again, but lay there writing and doing such back upon the left side to reveal his manly breast.things with his boots, as there is no other instance of in militaryhistory.choicest spirits of my‘And do I then,’ cried the general, ‘once again behold thecountry!’293

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Yes,’ said Mr Norris the father. ‘Here we are, general.’ ‘I couldn’t have realised it,’ pursued the general, ‘withoutThen all the Norrises pressed round the general, inquiring being located on the spot. Norris, your imagination is thehow and where he had been since the date of his letter, and imagination of a strong man, but YOU couldn’t have realisedhow he had enjoyed himself in foreign parts, and particularly it, without being located on the spot!’and above all, to what extent he had become acquainted with ‘Never,’ said Mr Norris.the great dukes, lords, viscounts, marquesses, duchesses, ‘The ex-clusiveness, the pride, the form, the ceremony,’ exclaimedthe general, emphasizing the article more vigorouslyknights, and baronets, in whom the people of those benightedcountries had delight.at every repetition. ‘The artificial barriers set up between man‘Well, then, don’t ask me,’ said the general, holding up his and man; the division of the human race into court cards andhand. ‘I was among ‘em all the time, and have got public plain cards, of every denomination—into clubs, diamonds,journals in my trunk with my name printed’—he lowered spades—anything but heart!’his voice and was very impressive here—’among the fashionablenews. But, oh, the conventionalities of that a-mazing ‘But stay!’ cried Mr Norris the father, taking him by the‘Ah!’ cried the whole family. ‘Too true, general!’Europe!’arm. ‘Surely you crossed in the Screw, general?’‘Ah!’ cried Mr Norris the father, giving his head a melancholyshake, and looking towards Martin as though he would ‘Possible!’ cried the young ladies. ‘Only think!’‘Well! so I did,’ was the reply.say, ‘I can’t deny it, sir. I would if I could.’The general seemed at a loss to understand why his having‘The limited diffusion of a moral sense in that country!’ come home in the Screw should occasion such a sensation,exclaimed the general. ‘The absence of a moral dignity in man!’ nor did he seem at all clearer on the subject when Mr Norris,‘Ah!’ sighed all the Norrises, quite overwhelmed with despondency.‘A fellow-passenger of yours, Iintroducing him to Martin, said:think?’294

Charles Dickens‘Of mine?’ exclaimed the general; ‘No!’should get wind, their country relation had, by his imprudence,for ever disgraced them. They were the bright particu-He had never seen Martin, but Martin had seen him, andrecognized him, now that they stood face to face, as the gentlemanwho had stuck his hands in his pockets towards the end fashionable spheres above them, and other fashionable sphereslar stars of an exalted New York sphere. There were otherof the voyage, and walked the deck with his nostrils dilated. below, and none of the stars in any one of these spheres hadEverybody looked at Martin. There was no help for it. The anything to say to the stars in any other of these spheres. But,truth must out.through all the spheres it would go forth that the Norrises,‘I came over in the same ship as the general,’ said Martin, deceived by gentlemanly manners and appearances, had, fallingfrom their high estate, ‘received’ a dollarless and unknown‘but not in the same cabin. It being necessary for me to observestrict economy, I took my passage in the steerage.’ man. O guardian eagle of the pure Republic, had they livedIf the general had been carried up bodily to a loaded cannon,and required to let it off that moment, he could not ‘You will allow me,’ said Martin, after a terrible silence, ‘tofor this!have been in a state of greater consternation than when he take my leave. I feel that I am the cause of at least as muchheard these words. He, Fladdock—Fladdock in full militia embarrassment here, as I have brought upon myself. But Iuniform, Fladdock the General, Fladdock, the caressed of am bound, before I go, to exonerate this gentleman, who, inforeign noblemen—expected to know a fellow who had come introducing me to such society, was quite ignorant of myover in the steerage of line-of-packet ship, at the cost of four unworthiness, I assure you.’pound ten! And meeting that fellow in the very sanctuary of With that he made his bow to the Norrises, and walkedNew York fashion, and nestling in the bosom of the New out like a man of snow; very cool externally, but pretty hotYork aristocracy! He almost laid his hand upon his sword. within.A death-like stillness fell upon the Norisses. If this story ‘Come, come,’ said Mr Norris the father, looking with a295

Martin Chuzzlewitpale face on the assembled circle as Martin closed the door, ‘How do you mean?’ asked Martin.‘the young man has this night beheld a refinement of social ‘I hope you acquit me of intending or foreseeing the terminationof our visit. But I scarcely need ask you that.’manner, and an easy magnificence of social decoration, towhich he is a stranger in his own country. Let us hope it may ‘Scarcely indeed,’ said Martin. ‘I am the more beholden toawake a moral sense within him.’you for your kindness, when I find what kind of stuff theIf that peculiarly transatlantic article, a moral sense—for, if good citizens here are made of.’native statesmen, orators, and pamphleteers, are to be believed, ‘I reckon,’ his friend returned, ‘that they are made of prettyAmerica quite monopolises the commodity—if that peculiarlytransatlantic article be supposed to include a benevolent and not set up on false pretences.’much the same stuff as other folks, if they would but own it,love of all mankind, certainly Martin’s would have borne, ‘In good faith, that’s true,’ said Martin.just then, a deal of waking. As he strode along the street, with ‘I dare say,’ resumed his friend, ‘you might have such a sceneMark at his heels, his immoral sense was in active operation; as that in an English comedy, and not detect any gross improbabilityor anomaly in the matter of it?’prompting him to the utterance of some rather sanguinaryremarks, which it was well for his own credit that nobody ‘Yes, indeed!’overheard. He had so far cooled down, however, that he had ‘Doubtless it is more ridiculous here than anywhere else,’begun to laugh at the recollection of these incidents, when he said his companion; ‘but our professions are to blame forheard another step behind him, and turning round encounteredhis friend Bevan, quite out of breath.perfectly aware from the first that you came over in the steer-that. So far as I myself am concerned, I may add that I wasHe drew his arm through Martin’s, and entreating him to age, for I had seen the list of passengers, and knew it did notwalk slowly, was silent for some minutes. At length he said: comprise your name.’‘I hope you exonerate me in another sense?’‘I feel more obliged to you than before,’ said Martin.296

Charles Dickens‘Norris is a very good fellow in his way,’ observed Mr These ladies were all three talking together in a very loudBevan.tone when Martin and his friend entered; but seeing those‘Is he?’ said Martin drily.gentlemen, they stopped directly, and became excessively genteel,not to say frosty. As they went on to exchange some few‘Oh yes! there are a hundred good points about him. If youor anybody else addressed him as another order of being, and remarks in whispers, the very water in the teapot might havesued to him in forma pauperis, he would be all kindness and fallen twenty degrees in temperature beneath their chillingconsideration.’coldness.‘I needn’t have travelled three thousand miles from home ‘Have you been to meeting, Mrs Brick?’ asked Martin’sto find such a character as that,’ said Martin. Neither he nor friend, with something of a roguish twinkle in his eye.his friend said anything more on the way back; each appearingto find sufficient occupation in his own thoughts. ‘I beg your pardon. I forgot. You don’t go to meeting, I‘To lecture, sir.’The tea, or the supper, or whatever else they called the evening think?’meal, was over when they reached the Major’s; but the cloth, Here the lady on the right of Mrs Brick gave a pious coughornamented with a few additional smears and stains, was still as much as to say ‘I do!’—as, indeed, she did nearly everyupon the table. At one end of the board Mrs Jefferson Brick night in the week.and two other ladies were drinking tea; out of the ordinary ‘A good discourse, ma’am?’ asked Mr Bevan, addressing thiscourse, evidently, for they were bonneted and shawled, and lady.seemed to have just come home. By the light of three flaring The lady raised her eyes in a pious manner, and answeredcandles of different lengths, in as many candlesticks of differentpatterns, the room showed to almost as little advantage as peppery doctrine, which satisfactorily disposed of all her friends‘Yes.’ She had been much comforted by some good, strong,in broad day.and acquaintances, and quite settled their business. Her bon-297

Martin Chuzzlewitnet, too, had far outshone every bonnet in the congregation; deserve the disdainful expression which appeared in their facesso she was tranquil on all accounts.he was at a loss to divine. But on their going upstairs to their‘What course of lectures are you attending now, ma’am?’ bedrooms—which they very soon did—Mr Bevan informedsaid Martin’s friend, turning again to Mrs Brick.him that domestic drudgery was far beneath the exalted range‘The Philosophy of the Soul, on Wednesdays.’of these Philosophers, and that the chances were a hundred to‘On Mondays?’one that not one of the three could perform the easiest woman’s‘The Philosophy of Crime.’work for herself, or make the simplest article of dress for any‘On Fridays?’of her children.‘The Philosophy of Vegetables.’‘Though whether they might not be better employed with‘You have forgotten Thursdays; the Philosophy of Government,my dear,’ observed the third lady.edge-tools,’ he said, ‘is another question; but I can answer forsuch blunt instruments as knitting-needles than with these‘No,’ said Mrs Brick. ‘That’s Tuesdays.’one thing—they don’t often cut themselves. Devotions and‘So it is!’ cried the lady. ‘The Philosophy of Matter on lectures are our balls and concerts. They go to these places ofThursdays, of course.’resort, as an escape from monotony; look at each other’s‘You see, Mr Chuzzlewit, our ladies are fully employed,’ clothes; and come home again.’said Bevan.‘When you say “home,” do you mean a house like this?’‘Indeed you have reason to say so,’ answered Martin. ‘Betweenthese very grave pursuits abroad, and family duties at you good night. We will discuss your projects in the morn-‘Very often. But I see you are tired to death, and will wishhome, their time must be pretty well engrossed.’ing. You cannot but feel already that it is useless staying here,Martin stopped here, for he saw that the ladies regarded with any hope of advancing them. You will have to go further.’him with no very great favour, though what he had done to298

Charles Dickens‘And to fare worse?’ said Martin, pursuing the old adage. unmindful of the boarders who dropped in one by one from‘Well, I hope not. But sufficient for the day, you know— their stores and counting-houses, or the neighbouring barrooms,and, after taking long pulls from a great white waterjuggood night’They shook hands heartily and separated. As soon as Martinwas left alone, the excitement of novelty and change which fascination near the brass spittoons, lounged heavily to bed;upon the sideboard, and lingering with a kind of hideoushad sustained him through all the fatigues of the day, departed;and he felt so thoroughly dejected and worn out, that supposing him asleep.until at length Mark Tapley came and shook him by the arm,he even lacked the energy to crawl upstairs to bed.‘Mark!’ he cried, starting.In twelve or fifteen hours, how great a change had fallen on ‘All right, sir,’ said that cheerful follower, snuffing with hishis hopes and sanguine plans! New and strange as he was to fingers the candle he bore. ‘It ain’t a very large bed, your’n, sir;the ground on which he stood, and to the air he breathed, he and a man as wasn’t thirsty might drink, afore breakfast, allcould not—recalling all that he had crowded into that one the water you’ve got to wash in, and afterwards eat the towel.day—but entertain a strong misgiving that his enterprise was But you’ll sleep without rocking to-night, sir.’doomed. Rash and ill-considered as it had often looked on ‘I feel as if the house were on the sea’ said Martin, staggeringwhen he rose; ‘and am utterly wretched.’shipboard, but had never seemed on shore, it wore a dismalaspect, now, that frightened him. Whatever thoughts he called ‘I’m as jolly as a sandboy, myself, sir,’ said Mark. ‘But, Lord,up to his aid, they came upon him in depressing and discouragingshapes, and gave him no relief. Even the diamonds on opinion. Take care how you go’—for they were now ascend-I have reason to be! I ought to have been born here; that’s myhis finger sparkled with the brightness of tears, and had no ing the stairs. ‘You recollect the gentleman aboard the Screwray of hope in all their brilliant lustre.as had the very small trunk, sir?’He continued to sit in gloomy rumination by the stove, ‘The valise? Yes.’299

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Well, sir, there’s been a delivery of clean clothes from the ‘You won’t say that to-morrow morning, sir,’ returned Mrwash to-night, and they’re put outside the bedroom doors Tapley; ‘nor even to-night, sir, when you’ve made a trial ofhere. If you take notice as we go up, what a very few shirts this.’ With which he produced a very large tumbler, piled up tothere are, and what a many fronts, you’ll penetrate the mysteryof his packing.’which one or two thin slices of lemon, and a golden liquid ofthe brim with little blocks of clear transparent ice, throughBut Martin was too weary and despondent to take heed of delicious appearance, appealed from the still depths below, toanything, so had no interest in this discovery. Mr Tapley, nothingdashed by his indifference, conducted him to the top of the ‘What do you call this?’ said Martin.the loving eye of the spectator.house, and into the bed-chamber prepared for his reception; But Mr Tapley made no answer; merely plunging a reedwhich was a very little narrow room, with half a window in it; into the mixture—which caused a pleasant commotion amonga bedstead like a chest without a lid; two chairs; a piece of the pieces of ice—and signifying by an expressive gesture thatcarpet, such as shoes are commonly tried upon at a ready-made it was to be pumped up through that agency by the enraptureddrinker.establishment in England; a little looking-glass nailed againstthe wall; and a washing-table, with a jug and ewer, that might Martin took the glass with an astonished look; applied hishave been mistaken for a milk-pot and slop-basin.lips to the reed; and cast up his eyes once in ecstasy. He paused‘I suppose they polish themselves with a dry cloth in this no more until the goblet was drained to the last drop.country,’ said Mark. ‘They’ve certainly got a touch of the ‘There, sir!’ said Mark, taking it from him with a triumphantface; ‘if ever you should happen to be dead beat again,‘phoby, sir.’‘I wish you would pull off my boots for me,’ said Martin, when I ain’t in the way, all you’ve got to do is to ask thedropping into one of the chairs ‘I am quite knocked up— nearest man to go and fetch a cobbler.’dead beat, Mark.’‘To go and fetch a cobbler?’ repeated Martin.300

Charles Dickens‘This wonderful invention, sir,’ said Mark, tenderly patting the same. But here am I, Dragon, in New York, America; andthe empty glass, ‘is called a cobbler. Sherry cobbler when you there are you in Wiltshire, Europe; and there’s a fortune toname it long; cobbler, when you name it short. Now you’re make, Dragon, and a beautiful young lady to make it for; andequal to having your boots took off, and are, in every particularworth mentioning, another man.’give in on the doorsteps, or you’ll never get up to the top!’whenever you go to see the Monument, Dragon, you mustn’tHaving delivered himself of this solemn preface, he brought ‘Wisely said, Mark,’ cried Martin. ‘We must look forward.’the bootjack.‘In all the story-books as ever I read, sir, the people as looked‘Mind! I am not going to relapse, Mark,’ said Martin; ‘but, backward was turned into stones,’ replied Mark; ‘and mygood Heaven, if we should be left in some wild part of this opinion always was, that they brought it on themselves, andcountry without goods or money!’it served ‘em right. I wish you good night, sir, and pleasant‘Well, sir!’ replied the imperturbable Tapley; ‘from what dreams!’we’ve seen already, I don’t know whether, under those circumstances,we shouldn’t do better in the wild parts than in in bed.‘They must be of home, then,’ said Martin, as he lay downthe tame ones.’‘So I say, too,’ whispered Mark Tapley, when he was out of‘Oh, Tom Pinch, Tom Pinch!’ said Martin, in a thoughtful hearing and in his own room; ‘for if there don’t come a timetone; ‘what would I give to be again beside you, and able to afore we’re well out of this, when there’ll be a little morehear your voice, though it were even in the old bedroom at credit in keeping up one’s jollity, I’m a United Statesman!’Pecksniff’s!’Leaving them to blend and mingle in their sleep the shadowsof objects afar off, as they take fantastic shapes upon the‘Oh, Dragon, Dragon!’ echoed Mark, cheerfully, ‘if therewarn’t any water between you and me, and nothing fainthearted-likein going back, I don’t know that I mightn’t say part of this slight chronicle—a dream within awall in the dim light of thought without control, be it thedream—as301

Martin Chuzzlewitrapidly to change the scene, and cross the ocean to the English Most men, at one time or other, have proved this in someshore.degree. The extent to which the natural laws of change assertedtheir supremacy in that limited sphere of action whichMartin had deserted, shall be faithfully set down in these pages.CHAPTER EIGHTEEN‘What a cold spring it is!’ whimpered old Anthony, drawingnear the evening fire, ‘It was a warmer season, sure, whenDOES BUSINESS WITH THE HOUSE OFI was young!’ANTHONY CHUZZLEWIT AND SON,‘You needn’t go scorching your clothes into holes, whetherFROM WHICH ONE OF THE PARTNERSit was or not,’ observed the amiable Jonas, raising his eyesRETIRES UNEXPECTEDLYfrom yesterday’s newspaper, ‘Broadcloth ain’t so cheap as thatcomes to.’CHANGE BEGETS CHANGE. Nothing propagates so fast. If a man‘A good lad!’ cried the father, breathing on his cold hands,habituated to a narrow circle of cares and pleasures, out of whichand feebly chafing them against each other. ‘A prudent lad!he seldom travels, step beyond it, though for never so brief aHe never delivered himself up to the vanities of dress. No,space, his departure from the monotonous scene on which heno!’has been an actor of importance, would seem to be the signal‘I don’t know but I would, though, mind you, if I could dofor instant confusion. As if, in the gap he had left, the wedge ofit for nothing,’ said his son, as he resumed the paper.change were driven to the head, rending what was a solid mass‘Ah!’ chuckled the old man. ‘IF, indeed!—But it’s very cold.’to fragments, things cemented and held together by the usages‘Let the fire be!’ cried Mr Jonas, stopping his honouredof years, burst asunder in as many weeks. The mine which Timeparent’s hand in the use of the poker. ‘Do you mean to comehas slowly dug beneath familiar objects is sprung in an instant;to want in your old age, that you take to wasting now?’and what was rock before, becomes but sand and dust.302

Charles Dickens‘There’s not time for that, Jonas,’ said the old man. Mr Jonas shook his Britannia-metal teaspoon at him, and‘Not time for what?’ bawled his heir.taking a loftier position, went on to argue the point on high‘For me to come to want. I wish there was!’moral grounds.‘You always were as selfish an old blade as need be,’ said ‘If you’re in such a state of mind as that,’ he grumbled, butJonas in a voice too low for him to hear, and looking at him in the same subdued key, ‘why don’t you make over yourwith an angry frown. ‘You act up to your character. You property? Buy an annuity cheap, and make your life interestingto yourself and everybody else that watches the specula-wouldn’t mind coming to want, wouldn’t you! I dare say youwouldn’t. And your own flesh and blood might come to want tion. But no, that wouldn’t suit you. That would be naturaltoo, might they, for anything you cared? Oh you precious conduct to your own son, and you like to be unnatural, andold flint!’to keep him out of his rights. Why, I should be ashamed ofAfter this dutiful address he took his tea-cup in his hand— myself if I was you, and glad to hide my head in the what youfor that meal was in progress, and the father and son and may call it.’Chuffey were partakers of it. Then, looking steadfastly at his Possibly this general phrase supplied the place of grave, orfather, and stopping now and then to carry a spoonful of tea tomb, or sepulchre, or cemetery, or mausoleum, or other suchto his lips, he proceeded in the same tone, thus:word which the filial tenderness of Mr Jonas made him delicateof pronouncing. He pursued the theme no further; for‘Want, indeed! You’re a nice old man to be talking of wantat this time of day. Beginning to talk of want, are you? Well, Chuffey, somehow discovering, from his old corner by theI declare! There isn’t time? No, I should hope not. But you’d fireside, that Anthony was in the attitude of a listener, andlive to be a couple of hundred if you could; and after all be that Jonas appeared to be speaking, suddenly cried out, likediscontented. I know you!’one inspired:The old man sighed, and still sat cowering before the fire. ‘He is your own son, Mr Chuzzlewit. Your own son, sir!’303

Martin ChuzzlewitOld Chuffey little suspected what depth of application these With which extraordinary speech—for in the case of Chuffeywords had, or that, in the bitter satire which they bore, they this was a burst of eloquence without a parallel—the poormight have sunk into the old man’s very soul, could he have old shadow drew through his palsied arm his master’s hand,known what words here hanging on his own son’s lips, or and held it there, with his own folded upon it, as if he wouldwhat was passing in his thoughts. But the voice diverted the defend him.current of Anthony’s reflections, and roused him.‘I grow deafer every day, Chuff,’ said Anthony, with as much‘Yes, yes, Chuffey, Jonas is a chip of the old block. It is a softness of manner, or, to describe it more correctly, with asvery old block, now, Chuffey,’ said the old man, with a strange little hardness as he was capable of expressing.look of discomposure.‘No, no,’ cried Chuffey. ‘No, you don’t. What if you did?‘Precious old,’ assented JonasI’ve been deaf this twenty year.’‘No, no, no,’ said Chuffey. ‘No, Mr Chuzzlewit. Not old ‘I grow blinder, too,’ said the old man, shaking his head.at all, sir.’‘That’s a good sign!’ cried Chuffey. ‘Ha! ha! The best sign‘Oh! He’s worse than ever, you know!’ cried Jonas, quite in the world! You saw too well before.’disgusted. ‘Upon my soul, father, he’s getting too bad. Hold He patted Anthony upon the hand as one might comfort ayour tongue, will you?’child, and drawing the old man’s arm still further through his own,‘He says you’re wrong!’ cried Anthony to the old clerk. shook his trembling fingers towards the spot where Jonas sat, as‘Tut, tut!’ was Chuffey’s answer. ‘I know better. I say HE’S though he would wave him off. But, Anthony remaining quitewrong. I say he’s wrong. He’s a boy. That’s what he is. So are still and silent, he relaxed his hold by slow degrees and lapsed intoyou, Mr Chuzzlewit—a kind of boy. Ha! ha! ha! You’re quite his usual niche in the corner; merely putting forth his hand ata boy to many I have known; you’re a boy to me; you’re a boy intervals and touching his old employer gently on the coat, as withto hundreds of us. Don’t mind him!’the design of assuring himself that he was yet beside him.304

Charles DickensMr Jonas was so very much amazed by these proceedings nance, old boy, and all the rest to his only son, Jonas. Youthat he could do nothing but stare at the two old men, until needn’t trouble yourself to be too affectionate. You won’t getChuffey had fallen into his usual state, and Anthony had sunk anything by it. What’s that?’into a doze; when he gave some vent to his emotions by goingclose up to the former personage, and making as though glass partition looking curiously in; and not at him but at theIt was startling, certainly. A face on the other side of thehe would, in vulgar parlance, ‘punch his head.’paper in his hand. For the eyes were attentively cast down‘They’ve been carrying on this game,’ thought Jonas in a upon the writing, and were swiftly raised when he cried out.brown study, ‘for the last two or three weeks. I never saw my Then they met his own, and were as the eyes of Mr Pecksniff.father take so much notice of him as he has in that time. Suffering the lid of the desk to fall with a loud noise, but notWhat! You’re legacy hunting, are you, Mister Chuff? Eh?’ forgetting even then to lock it, Jonas, pale and breathless, gazedBut Chuffey was as little conscious of the thought as of the upon this phantom. It moved, opened the door, and walked in.bodily advance of Mr Jonas’s clenched fist, which hovered ‘What’s the matter?’ cried Jonas, falling back. ‘Who is it?fondly about his ear. When he had scowled at him to his Where do you come from? What do you want?’heart’s content, Jonas took the candle from the table, and ‘Matter!’ cried the voice of Mr Pecksniff, as Pecksniff in thewalking into the glass office, produced a bunch of keys from flesh smiled amiably upon him. ‘The matter, Mr Jonas!’his pocket. With one of these he opened a secret drawer in the ‘What are you prying and peering about here for?’ said Jonas,desk; peeping stealthily out, as he did so, to be certain that angrily. ‘What do you mean by coming up to town in thisthe two old men were still before the fire.way, and taking one unawares? It’s precious odd a man can’t‘All as right as ever,’ said Jonas, propping the lid of the desk read the—the newspaper—in his own office without beingopen with his forehead, and unfolding a paper. ‘Here’s the startled out of his wits by people coming in without notice.will, Mister Chuff. Thirty pound a year for your mainte-Why didn’t you knock at the door?’305

Martin Chuzzlewit‘So I did, Mr Jonas,’ answered Pecksniff, ‘but no one heard me. ‘Oh!’ cried Jonas, ‘is that all? Well. Here’s father in the nextI was curious,’ he added in his gentle way as he laid his hand upon room. Hallo father, here’s Pecksniff! He gets more addle-patedthe young man’s shoulder, ‘to find out what part of the newspaper every day he lives, I do believe,’ muttered Jonas, shaking hisinterested you so much; but the glass was too dim and dirty.’ honoured parent roundly. ‘Don’t I tell you Pecksniff’s here,Jonas glanced in haste at the partition. Well. It wasn’t very stupid-head?’clean. So far he spoke the truth.The combined effects of the shaking and this loving remonstrancesoon awoke the old man, who gave Mr Pecksniff‘Was it poetry now?’ said Mr Pecksniff, shaking the forefingerof his right hand with an air of cheerful banter. ‘Or was a chuckling welcome which was attributable in part to hisit politics? Or was it the price of stock? The main chance, Mr being glad to see that gentleman, and in part to his unfadingJonas, the main chance, I suspect.’delight in the recollection of having called him a hypocrite.‘You ain’t far from the truth,’ answered Jonas, recovering As Mr Pecksniff had not yet taken tea (indeed he had, but anhimself and snuffing the candle; ‘but how the deuce do you hour before, arrived in London) the remains of the late collation,with a rasher of bacon, were served up for his entertain-come to be in London again? Ecod! it’s enough to make aman stare, to see a fellow looking at him all of a sudden, who ment; and as Mr Jonas had a business appointment in thehe thought was sixty or seventy mile away.’next street, he stepped out to keep it; promising to return‘So it is,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘No doubt of it, my dear Mr before Mr Pecksniff could finish his repast.Jonas. For while the human mind is constituted as it is—’ ‘And now, my good sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff to Anthony; ‘now‘Oh, bother the human mind,’ interrupted Jonas with impatience‘what have you come up for?’because I believe that our dear friend Mr Chuffey is, metaphysi-that we are alone, pray tell me what I can do for you. I say alone,‘A little matter of business,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘which has cally speaking, a—shall I say a dummy?’ asked Mr Pecksniff witharisen quite unexpectedly.’his sweetest smile, and his head very much on one side.306

Charles Dickens‘He neither hears us,’ replied Anthony, ‘nor sees us.’ He was always a glib speaker, but he delivered this short‘Why, then,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘I will be bold to say, with address very glibly; having been at some pains to compose itthe utmost sympathy for his afflictions, and the greatest admirationof those excellent qualities which do equal honour Although he paused for a reply, and truly said that he wasoutside the coach.to his head and to his heart, that he is what is playfully termed there at Anthony’s request, the old man sat gazing at him ina dummy. You were going to observe, my dear sir—?’ profound silence and with a perfectly blank face. Nor did he‘I was not going to make any observation that I know of,’ seem to have the least desire or impulse to pursue the conversation,though Mr Pecksniff looked towards the door, and pulledreplied the old man.‘I was,’ said Mr Pecksniff, mildly.out his watch, and gave him many other hints that their time‘Oh! you were? What was it?’was short, and Jonas, if he kept his word, would soon return.‘That I never,’ said Mr Pecksniff, previously rising to see that But the strangest incident in all this strange behaviour was, thatthe door was shut, and arranging his chair when he came back, of a sudden, in a moment, so swiftly that it was impossible toso that it could not be opened in the least without his immediatelybecoming aware of the circumstance; ‘that I never in my into their old expression, and he cried, striking his hand pas-trace how, or to observe any process of change, his features felllife was so astonished as by the receipt of your letter yesterday. sionately upon the table as if no interval at all had taken place:That you should do me the honour to wish to take counsel ‘Will you hold your tongue, sir, and let me speak?’with me on any matter, amazed me; but that you should desire Mr Pecksniff deferred to him with a submissive bow; andto do so, to the exclusion even of Mr Jonas, showed an amount said within himself, ‘I knew his hand was changed, and thatof confidence in one to whom you had done a verbal injury— his writing staggered. I said so yesterday. Ahem! Dear me!’merely a verbal injury, you were anxious to repair—which gratified,which moved, which overcame me.’man, in his usual‘Jonas is sweet upon your daughter, Pecksniff,’ said the oldtone.307

Martin Chuzzlewit‘We spoke of that, if you remember, sir, at Mrs Todgers’s,’ to be one yourself. If your daughter was what you wouldreplied the courteous architect.have me believe, she wouldn’t do for Jonas. Being what she‘You needn’t speak so loud,’ retorted Anthony. ‘I’m not so deaf is, I think she will. He might be deceived in a wife. She mightas that.’run riot, contract debts, and waste his substance. Now whenMr Pecksniff had certainly raised his voice pretty high; not so I am dead—’much because he thought Anthony was deaf, as because he felt His face altered so horribly as he said the word, that Mrconvinced that his perceptive faculties were waxing dim; but Pecksniff really was fain to look another way.this quick resentment of his considerate behaviour greatly disconcertedhim, and, not knowing what tack to shape his course I was alive; for to be tormented for getting that together,‘—It will be worse for me to know of such doings, than ifupon, he made another inclination of the head, yet more submissivethat the last.very kennels of the streets, would be insupportable torture.which even while I suffer for its acquisition, is flung into the‘I have said,’ repeated the old man, ‘that Jonas is sweet upon No,’ said the old man, hoarsely, ‘let that be saved at least; letyour daughter.’there be something gained, and kept fast hold of, when so‘A charming girl, sir,’ murmured Mr Pecksniff, seeing that much is lost.’he waited for an answer. ‘A dear girl, Mr Chuzzlewit, though ‘My dear Mr Chuzzlewit,’ said Pecksniff, ‘these are unwholesomefancies; quite unnecessary, sir, quite uncalled for, I amI say it, who should not.’‘You know better,’ cried the old man, advancing his weazen sure. The truth is, my dear sir, that you are not well!’face at least a yard, and starting forward in his chair to do it. ‘Not dying though!’ cried Anthony, with something like‘You lie! What, you will be a hypocrite, will you?’the snarl of a wild animal. ‘Not yet! There are years of life in‘My good sir,’ Mr Pecksniff began.me. Why, look at him,’ pointing to his feeble clerk. ‘Death‘Don’t call me a good sir,’ retorted Anthony, ‘and don’t claim has no right to leave him standing, and to mow me down!’308

Charles DickensMr Pecksniff was so much afraid of the old man, and so his temper) it’ll snap. Bind him when he’s in the mood,completely taken aback by the state in which he found him, Pecksniff; bind him. You’re too deep. In your way of leadingthat he had not even presence of mind enough to call up a him on, you’ll leave him miles behind. Bah, you man of oil,scrap of morality from the great storehouse within his own have I no eyes to see how you have angled with him from thebreast. Therefore he stammered out that no doubt it was, in first?’fairness and decency, Mr Chuffey’s turn to expire; and that ‘Now I wonder,’ thought Mr Pecksniff, looking at himfrom all he had heard of Mr Chuffey, and the little he had the with a wistful face, ‘whether this is all he has to say?’pleasure of knowing of that gentleman, personally, he felt Old Anthony rubbed his hands and muttered to himself;convinced in his own mind that he would see the propriety complained again that he was cold; drew his chair before theof expiring with as little delay as possible.fire; and, sitting with his back to Mr Pecksniff, and his chin‘Come here!’ said the old man, beckoning him to draw sunk down upon his breast, was, in another minute, quitenearer. ‘Jonas will be my heir, Jonas will be rich, and a great regardless or forgetful of his presence.catch for you. You know that. Jonas is sweet upon your daughter.’it had furnished Mr Pecksniff with a hint which, supposingUncouth and unsatisfactory as this short interview had been,‘I know that too,’ thought Mr Pecksniff, ‘for you have said nothing further were imparted to him, repaid the journey upit often enough.’and home again. For the good gentleman had never (for want‘He might get more money than with her,’ said the old of an opportunity) dived into the depths of Mr Jonas’s nature;and any recipe for catching such a son-in-law (muchman, ‘but she will help him to take care of what they have.She is not too young or heedless, and comes of a good hard more one written on a leaf out of his own father’s book) wasgriping stock. But don’t you play too fine a game. She only worth the having. In order that he might lose no chance ofholds him by a thread; and if you draw it too tight (I know improving so fair an opportunity by allowing Anthony to309

Martin Chuzzlewitfall asleep before he had finished all he had to say, Mr Pecksniff, self with a melancholy air. ‘He never was better than he isin the disposal of the refreshments on the table, a work to now. How are they all at home? How’s Charity?’which he now applied himself in earnest, resorted to many ‘Blooming, Mr Jonas, blooming.’ingenious contrivances for attracting his attention; such as ‘And the other one; how’s she?’coughing, sneezing, clattering the teacups, sharpening the ‘Volatile trifler!’ said Mr Pecksniff, fondly musing. ‘She isknives, dropping the loaf, and so forth. But all in vain, for well, she is well. Roving from parlour to bedroom, Mr Jonas,Mr Jonas returned, and Anthony had said no more. like a bee, skimming from post to pillar, like the butterfly;‘What! My father asleep again?’ he cried, as he hung up his dipping her young beak into our currant wine, like the humming-bird!Ah! were she a little less giddy than she is; and hadhat, and cast a look at him. ‘Ah! and snoring. Only hear!’‘He snores very deep,’ said Mr Pecksniff.she but the sterling qualities of Cherry, my young friend!’‘Snores deep?’ repeated Jonas. ‘Yes; let him alone for that. ‘Is she so very giddy, then?’ asked Jonas.He’ll snore for six, at any time.’‘Well, well!’ said Mr Pecksniff, with great feeling; ‘let me‘Do you know, Mr Jonas,’ said Pecksniff, ‘that I think your not be hard upon my child. Beside her sister Cherry she appearsso. A strange noise that, Mr Jonas!’father is—don’t let me alarm you—breaking?’‘Oh, is he though?’ replied Jonas, with a shake of the head ‘Something wrong in the clock, I suppose,’ said Jonas, glancingtowards it. ‘So the other one ain’t your favourite, ain’t she?’which expressed the closeness of his dutiful observation. ‘Ecod,you don’t know how tough he is. He ain’t upon the move The fond father was about to reply, and had already summonedinto his face a look of most intense sensibility, whenyet.’‘It struck me that he was changed, both in his appearance the sound he had already noticed was repeated.and manner,’ said Mr Pecksniff.‘Upon my word, Mr Jonas, that is a very extraordinary‘That’s all you know about it,’ returned Jonas, seating him-clock,’ said Pecksniff.310

Charles DickensIt would have been, if it had made the noise which startled held him so long that it was past midnight when they got him—them; but another kind of time-piece was fast running down, quiet now, but quite unconscious and exhausted—into bed.and from that the sound proceeded. A scream from Chuffey, ‘Don’t go,’ said Jonas, putting his ashy lips to Mr Pecksniff’srendered a hundred times more loud and formidable by his ear and whispered across the bed. ‘It was a mercy you weresilent habits, made the house ring from roof to cellar; and, present when he was taken ill. Some one might have said itlooking round, they saw Anthony Chuzzlewit extended on was my doing.’the floor, with the old clerk upon his knees beside him. ‘Your doing!’ cried Mr Pecksniff.He had fallen from his chair in a fit, and lay there, battling ‘I don’t know but they might,’ he replied, wiping the moisturefrom his white face. ‘People say such things. How doesfor each gasp of breath, with every shrivelled vein and sinewstarting in its place, as if it were bent on bearing witness to his he look now?’age, and sternly pleading with Nature against his recovery. It Mr Pecksniff shook his head.was frightful to see how the principle of life, shut up within ‘I used to joke, you know,’ said. Jonas: ‘but I—I neverhis withered frame, fought like a strong devil, mad to be released,and rent its ancient prison-house. A young man in the ‘The doctor said he was. You heard,’ was Mr Pecksniff’swished him dead. Do you think he’s very bad?’fullness of his vigour, struggling with so much strength of answer.desperation, would have been a dismal sight; but an old, old, ‘Ah! but he might say that to charge us more, in case of hisshrunken body, endowed with preternatural might, and givingthe lie in every motion of its every limb and joint to its it’s come to this, I wouldn’t be without a witness for a thou-getting well’ said Jonas. ‘You mustn’t go away, Pecksniff. Nowenfeebled aspect, was a hideous spectacle indeed.sand pound.’They raised him up, and fetched a surgeon with all haste, Chuffey said not a word, and heard not a word. He had satwho bled the patient and applied some remedies; but the fits himself down in a chair at the bedside, and there he remained,311

Martin Chuzzlewitmotionless; except that he sometimes bent his head over the ‘If anything happens Pecksniff,’ said Jonas, ‘you must promiseme to stop here till it’s all over. You shall see that I dopillow, and seemed to listen. He never changed in this. Thoughonce in the dreary night Mr Pecksniff, having dozed, awoke what’s right.’with a confused impression that he had heard him praying, ‘I know that you will do what’s right, Mr Jonas,’ saidand strangely mingling figures—not of speech, but arithmetic—withhis broken prayers.‘Yes, yes, but I won’t be doubted. No one shall have it in hisPecksniff.Jonas sat there, too, all night; not where his father could power to say a syllable against me,’ he returned. ‘I know howhave seen him, had his consciousness returned, but hiding, as people will talk. Just as if he wasn’t old, or I had the secret ofit were, behind him, and only reading how he looked, in Mr keeping him alive!’Pecksniff’s eyes. He, the coarse upstart, who had ruled the Mr Pecksniff promised that he would remain, if circumstancesshould render it, in his esteemed friend’s opinion, de-house so long—that craven cur, who was afraid to move, andshook so, that his very shadow fluttered on the wall! sirable; they were finishing their meal in silence, when suddenlyan apparition stood before them, so ghastly to the viewIt was broad, bright, stirring day when, leaving the old clerkto watch him, they went down to breakfast. People hurried that Jonas shrieked aloud, and both recoiled in horror.up and down the street; windows and doors were opened; Old Anthony, dressed in his usual clothes, was in the room—thieves and beggars took their usual posts; workmen bestirred beside the table. He leaned upon the shoulder of his solitarythemselves; tradesmen set forth their shops; bailiffs and constableswere on the watch; all kinds of human creatures strove, his glassy eyes, and traced by an eternal finger in the very dropsfriend; and on his livid face, and on his horny hands, and inin their several ways, as hard to live, as the one sick old man of sweat upon his brow, was one word—Death.who combated for every grain of sand in his fast-emptying He spoke to them—in something of his own voice too,glass, as eagerly as if it were an empire.but sharpened and made hollow, like a dead man’s face. What312

Charles Dickenshe would have said, God knows. He seemed to utter words,CHAPTER NINETEENbut they were such as man had never heard. And this was themost fearful circumstance of all, to see him standing there,THE READER IS BROUGHT INTO COMgabblingin an unearthly tongue.MUNICATION WITH SOME PROFES-‘He’s better now,’ said Chuffey. ‘Better now. Let him sit inSIONAL PERSONS, AND SHEDS A TEARhis old chair, and he’ll be well again. I told him not to mind.OVER THE FILAIL PIETY OF GOOD MRI said so, yesterday.’JONASThey put him in his easy-chair, and wheeled it near thewindow; then, swinging open the door, exposed him to theMR PECKSNIFF WAS in a hackney cabriolet, for Jonas Chuzzlewitfree current of morning air. But not all the air that is, nor allhad said ‘Spare no expense.’ Mankind is evil in its thoughtsthe winds that ever blew ‘twixt Heaven and Earth, could haveand in its base constructions, and Jonas was resolved it shouldbrought new life to him.not have an inch to stretch into an ell against him. It neverPlunge him to the throat in golden pieces now, and hisshould be charged upon his father’s son that he had grudgedheavy fingers shall not close on one!the money for his father’s funeral. Hence, until the obsequiesshould be concluded, Jonas had taken for his motto ‘Spend,and spare not!’Mr Pecksniff had been to the undertaker, and was now uponhis way to another officer in the train of mourning—a femalefunctionary, a nurse, and watcher, and performer of namelessoffices about the persons of the dead—whom he had recommended.Her name, as Mr Pecksniff gathered from a scrap of313

Martin Chuzzlewitwriting in his hand, was Gamp; her residence in Kingsgate Street, had been called in at a crisis, in consequence of her great repute,to assist another professional lady with her advice; andHigh Holborn. So Mr Pecksniff, in a hackney cab, was rattlingover Holborn stones, in quest of Mrs Gamp.thus it happened that, all points of interest in the case beingThis lady lodged at a bird-fancier’s, next door but one to over, Mrs Gamp had come home again to the bird-fancier’sthe celebrated mutton-pie shop, and directly opposite to the and gone to bed. So when Mr Pecksniff drove up in the hackneycab, Mrs Gamp’s curtains were drawn close, and Mrs Gamporiginal cat’s-meat warehouse; the renown of which establishmentswas duly heralded on their respective fronts. It was was fast asleep behind them.a little house, and this was the more convenient; for Mrs Gamp If the bird-fancier had been at home, as he ought to havebeing, in her highest walk of art, a monthly nurse, or, as her been, there would have been no great harm in this; but he wassign-board boldly had it, ‘Midwife,’ and lodging in the firstfloorfront, was easily assailable at night by pebbles, walkingtainly;and in every pane of glass there was at least one tiny birdout, and his shop was closed. The shutters were down cersticks,and fragments of tobacco-pipe; all much more efficaciousthan the street-door knocker, which was so constructed despair, and knocking his head against the roof; while one un-in a tiny bird-cage, twittering and hopping his little ballet ofas to wake the street with ease, and even spread alarms of fire happy goldfinch who lived outside a red villa with his name onin Holborn, without making the smallest impression on the the door, drew the water for his own drinking, and mutelypremises to which it was addressed.appealed to some good man to drop a farthing’s-worth of poisonin it. Still, the door was shut. Mr Pecksniff tried the latch,It chanced on this particular occasion, that Mrs Gamp hadbeen up all the previous night, in attendance upon a ceremony and shook it, causing a cracked bell inside to ring most mournfully;but no one came. The bird-fancier was an easy shaverto which the usage of gossips has given that name which expresses,in two syllables, the curse pronounced on Adam. It also, and a fashionable hair-dresser also, and perhaps he hadchanced that Mrs Gamp had not been regularly engaged, but been sent for, express, from the court end of the town, to trim314

Charles Dickensa lord, or cut and curl a lady; but however that might be, there, ‘He’s as pale as a muffin,’ said one lady, in allusion to Mrupon his own ground, he was not; nor was there any more Pecksniff.distinct trace of him to assist the imagination of an inquirer, ‘So he ought to be, if he’s the feelings of a man,’ observedthan a professional print or emblem of his calling (much another.favoured in the trade), representing a hair-dresser of easy mannerscurling a lady of distinguished fashion, in the presence of a chosen any other time for fetching Mrs Gamp, but it alwaysA third lady (with her arms folded) said she wished he hadpatent upright grand pianoforte.happened so with her.Noting these circumstances, Mr Pecksniff, in the innocence It gave Mr Pecksniff much uneasiness to find, from these remarks,of his heart, applied himself to the knocker; but at the first that he was supposed to have come to Mrs Gamp upon an erranddouble knock every window in the street became alive with touching—not the close of life, but the other end. Mrs Gamp herselfwas under the same impression, for, throwing open the window,female heads; and before he could repeat the performance wholetroops of married ladies (some about to trouble Mrs Gamp she cried behind the curtains, as she hastily attired herself—themselves very shortly) came flocking round the steps, all cryingout with one accord, and with uncommon interest, ‘Knock ‘No!’ returned Mr Pecksniff, sharply. ‘Nothing of the sort.’‘Is it Mrs Perkins?’at the winder, sir, knock at the winder. Lord bless you, don’t ‘What, Mr Whilks!’ cried Mrs Gamp. ‘Don’t say it’s you,lose no more time than you can help—knock at the winder!’ Mr Whilks, and that poor creetur Mrs Whilks with not evenActing upon this suggestion, and borrowing the driver’s a pincushion ready. Don’t say it’s you, Mr Whilks!’whip for the purpose, Mr Pecksniff soon made a commotion ‘It isn’t Mr Whilks,’ said Pecksniff. ‘I don’t know the man.among the first floor flower-pots, and roused Mrs Gamp, Nothing of the kind. A gentleman is dead; and some personwhose voice—to the great satisfaction of the matrons—was being wanted in the house, you have been recommended byheard to say, ‘I’m coming.’Mr Mould the undertaker.’315

Martin ChuzzlewitAs she was by this time in a condition to appear, Mrs Gamp, mail-coaches or stage-wagons, inasmuch as she was constantlywho had a face for all occasions, looked out of the window endeavouring for the first half mile to force her luggagewith her mourning countenance, and said she would be down through the little front window, and clamouring to the driverdirectly. But the matrons took it very ill that Mr Pecksniff’s to ‘put it in the boot.’ When she was disabused of this idea,mission was of so unimportant a kind; and the lady with her her whole being resolved itself into an absorbing anxiety aboutarms folded rated him in good round terms, signifying that her pattens, with which she played innumerable games atshe would be glad to know what he meant by terrifying delicatefemales ‘with his corpses;’ and giving it as her opinion upon the house of mourning that she had enough composurequoits on Mr Pecksniff’s legs. It was not until they were closethat he was quite ugly enough to know better. The other to observe—ladies were not at all behind-hand in expressing similar sentiments;and the children, of whom some scores had now col-She didn’t even know his name. ‘But it’s what we must all‘And so the gentleman’s dead, sir! Ah! The more’s the pity.’lected, hooted and defied Mr Pecksniff quite savagely. So when come to. It’s as certain as being born, except that we can’tMrs Gamp appeared, the unoffending gentleman was glad to make our calculations as exact. Ah! Poor dear!’hustle her with very little ceremony into the cabriolet, and She was a fat old woman, this Mrs Gamp, with a huskydrive off, overwhelmed with popular execration.voice and a moist eye, which she had a remarkable power ofMrs Gamp had a large bundle with her, a pair of pattens, turning up, and only showing the white of it. Having veryand a species of gig umbrella; the latter article in colour like a little neck, it cost her some trouble to look over herself, iffaded leaf, except where a circular patch of a lively blue had one may say so, at those to whom she talked. She wore a verybeen dexterously let in at the top. She was much flurried by rusty black gown, rather the worse for snuff, and a shawl andthe haste she had made, and laboured under the most erroneousviews of cabriolets, which she appeared to confound with she had, on principle, arrayed herself, time out of mind,bonnet to correspond. In these dilapidated articles of dresson316

Charles Dickenssuch occasions as the present; for this at once expressed a decentamount of veneration for the deceased, and invited the and had exerted such uncommon fortitude as to dispose ofhad any truth in them, she had indeed borne up surprisingly;next of kin to present her with a fresher suit of weeds; an Mr Gamp’s remains for the benefit of science. But it shouldappeal so frequently successful, that the very fetch and ghost be added, in fairness, that this had happened twenty yearsof Mrs Gamp, bonnet and all, might be seen hanging up, any before; and that Mr and Mrs Gamp had long been separatedhour in the day, in at least a dozen of the second-hand clothes on the ground of incompatibility of temper in their drink.shops about Holborn. The face of Mrs Gamp—the nose in ‘You have become indifferent since then, I suppose?’ saidparticular—was somewhat red and swollen, and it was difficultto enjoy her society without becoming conscious of a ‘You may well say second nater, sir,’ returned that lady. ‘One’sMr Pecksniff. ‘Use is second nature, Mrs Gamp.’smell of spirits. Like most persons who have attained to great first ways is to find sich things a trial to the feelings, and so iseminence in their profession, she took to hers very kindly; one’s lasting custom. If it wasn’t for the nerve a little sip ofinsomuch that, setting aside her natural predilections as a liquor gives me (I never was able to do more than taste it), Iwoman, she went to a lying-in or a laying-out with equal zest never could go through with what I sometimes has to do.and relish.“Mrs Harris,” I says, at the very last case as ever I acted in,‘Ah!’ repeated Mrs Gamp; for it was always a safe sentiment which it was but a young person, “Mrs Harris,” I says, “leavein cases of mourning. ‘Ah dear! When Gamp was summoned the bottle on the chimley-piece, and don’t ask me to taketo his long home, and I see him a-lying in Guy’s Hospital none, but let me put my lips to it when I am so dispoged,with a penny-piece on each eye, and his wooden leg under his and then I will do what I’m engaged to do, according to theleft arm, I thought I should have fainted away. But I bore best of my ability.” “Mrs Gamp,” she says, in answer, “if everup.’there was a sober creetur to be got at eighteen pence a day forIf certain whispers current in the Kingsgate Street circles working people, and three and six for gentlefolks—night317

Martin Chuzzlewitwatching,”’ said Mrs Gamp with emphasis, ‘“being a extra ‘You’ll be very particular here, Mrs Gamp. This is not acharge—you are that inwallable person.” “Mrs Harris,” I says common case, Mrs Gamp. Let everything be very nice andto her, “don’t name the charge, for if I could afford to lay all comfortable, Mrs Gamp, if you please,’ said the undertaker,my feller creeturs out for nothink, I would gladly do it, sich shaking his head with a solemn air.is the love I bears ‘em. But what I always says to them as has ‘It shall be, sir,’ she replied, curtseying again. ‘You knowsthe management of matters, Mrs Harris”’—here she kept her me of old, sir, I hope.’eye on Mr Pecksniff—’”be they gents or be they ladies, is, ‘I hope so, too, Mrs Gamp,’ said the undertaker. ‘and Idon’t ask me whether I won’t take none, or whether I will, think so also.’ Mrs Gamp curtseyed again. ‘This is one of thebut leave the bottle on the chimley-piece, and let me put my most impressive cases, sir,’ he continued, addressing Mrlips to it when I am so dispoged.”’Pecksniff, ‘that I have seen in the whole course of my professionalexperience.’The conclusion of this affecting narrative brought them tothe house. In the passage they encountered Mr Mould the undertaker;a little elderly gentleman, bald, and in a suit of black; ‘Such affectionate regret, sir, I never saw. There is no limita-‘Indeed, Mr Mould!’ cried that gentleman.with a notebook in his hand, a massive gold watch-chain danglingfrom his fob, and a face in which a queer attempt at and standing on tiptoe—’in point of expense! I have orders,tion, there is positively no limitation’—opening his eyes wide,melancholy was at odds with a smirk of satisfaction; so that he sir, to put on my whole establishment of mutes; and muteslooked as a man might, who, in the very act of smacking his come very dear, Mr Pecksniff; not to mention their drink. Tolips over choice old wine, tried to make believe it was physic. provide silver-plated handles of the very best description, ornamentedwith angels’ heads from the most expensive dies.‘Well, Mrs Gamp, and how are you, Mrs Gamp?’ said thisgentleman, in a voice as soft as his step.To be perfectly profuse in feathers. In short, sir, to turn out‘Pretty well, I thank you, sir,’ dropping a curtsey. something absolutely gorgeous.’318

Charles Dickens‘My friend Mr Jonas is an excellent man,’ said Mr Pecksniff. biting vein, as he pocketed his note-book; ‘we knew him, and‘I have seen a good deal of what is filial in my time, sir,’ are not to be caught with chaff. Mr Pecksniff, sir, good morning.’retorted Mould, ‘and what is unfilial too. It is our lot. Wecome into the knowledge of those secrets. But anything so Mr Pecksniff returned the compliment; and Mould, sensibleof having distinguished himself, was going away with afilial as this; anything so honourable to human nature; socalculated to reconcile all of us to the world we live in; never brisk smile, when he fortunately remembered the occasion.yet came under my observation. It only proves, sir, what was Quickly becoming depressed again, he sighed; looked intoso forcibly observed by the lamented theatrical poet—buried the crown of his hat, as if for comfort; put it on withoutat Stratford—that there is good in everything.’finding any; and slowly departed.‘It is very pleasant to hear you say so, Mr Mould,’ observed Mrs Gamp and Mr Pecksniff then ascended the staircase;Pecksniff.and the former, having been shown to the chamber in which‘You are very kind, sir. And what a man Mr Chuzzlewit all that remained of Anthony Chuzzlewit lay covered up, withwas, sir! Ah! what a man he was. You may talk of your lord but one loving heart, and that a halting one, to mourn it, leftmayors,’ said Mould, waving his hand at the public in general,‘your sheriffs, your common councilmen, your trum-Mr Jonas, from whom he had now been absent nearly twothe latter free to enter the darkened room below, and rejoinpery; but show me a man in this city who is worthy to walk hours.in the shoes of the departed Mr Chuzzlewit. No, no,’ cried He found that example to bereaved sons, and pattern in theMould, with bitter sarcasm. ‘Hang ‘em up, hang ‘em up; sole eyes of all performers of funerals, musing over a fragment of‘em and heel ‘em, and have ‘em ready for his son against he’s writing-paper on the desk, and scratching figures on it with aold enough to wear ‘em; but don’t try ‘em on yourselves, for pen. The old man’s chair, and hat, and walking-stick, werethey won’t fit you. We knew him,’ said Mould, in the same removed from their accustomed places, and put out of sight;319

Martin Chuzzlewitthe window-blinds as yellow as November fogs, were drawn But here he was interrupted by Mrs Gamp, who, divesteddown close; Jonas himself was so subdued, that he could of her bonnet and shawl, came sidling and bridling into thescarcely be heard to speak, and only seen to walk across the room; and with some sharpness demanded a conference outsidethe door with Mr Pecksniff.room.‘Pecksniff,’ he said, in a whisper, ‘you shall have the regulationof it all, mind! You shall be able to tell anybody who said that gentleman, shaking his head with a melancholy ex-‘You may say whatever you wish to say here, Mrs Gamp,’talks about it that everything was correctly and nicely done. pression.There isn’t any one you’d like to ask to the funeral, is there?’ ‘It is not much as I have to say when people is a-mourning‘No, Mr Jonas, I think not.’for the dead and gone,’ said Mrs Gamp; ‘but what I have to‘Because if there is, you know,’ said Jonas, ‘ask him. We say is TO the pint and purpose, and no offence intended,don’t want to make a secret of it.’must be so considered. I have been at a many places in my‘No,’ repeated Mr Pecksniff, after a little reflection. ‘I am time, gentlemen, and I hope I knows what my duties is, andnot the less obliged to you on that account, Mr Jonas, for how the same should be performed; in course, if I did not, ityour liberal hospitality; but there really is no one.’would be very strange, and very wrong in sich a gentleman as‘Very well,’ said Jonas; ‘then you, and I, and Chuffey, and Mr Mould, which has undertook the highest families in thisthe doctor, will be just a coachful. We’ll have the doctor, land, and given every satisfaction, so to recommend me as hePecksniff, because he knows what was the matter with him, does. I have seen a deal of trouble my own self,’ said Mrsand that it couldn’t be helped.’Gamp, laying greater and greater stress upon her words, ‘and‘Where is our dear friend, Mr Chuffey?’ asked Pecksniff, I can feel for them as has their feelings tried, but I am not alooking round the chamber, and winking both his eyes at Rooshan or a Prooshan, and consequently cannot suffer Spiesonce—for he was overcome by his feelings.to be set over me.’320

Charles DickensBefore it was possible that an answer could be returned, ‘I am sure,’ she said, ‘that if it wasn’t for his own happiness,Mrs Gamp, growing redder in the face, went on to say: I should no more mind him being there, poor dear, than if he‘It is not a easy matter, gentlemen, to live when you are left a was a fly. But them as isn’t used to these things, thinks sowidder woman; particular when your feelings works upon you much of ‘em afterwards, that it’s a kindness to ‘em not to letto that extent that you often find yourself a-going out on terms ‘em have their wish. And even,’ said Mrs Gamp, probably inwhich is a certain loss, and never can repay. But in whatever way reference to some flowers of speech she had already strewn onyou earns your bread, you may have rules and regulations of your Mr Chuffey, ‘even if one calls ‘em names, it’s only done toown which cannot be broke through. Some people,’ said Mrs rouse ‘em.’Gamp, again entrenching herself behind her strong point, as if it Whatever epithets she had bestowed on the old clerk, theywere not assailable by human ingenuity, ‘may be Rooshans, and had not roused him. He sat beside the bed, in the chair he hadothers may be Prooshans; they are born so, and will please themselves.Them which is of other naturs thinks different.’ him, and his head bowed down; and neither looked up, onoccupied all the previous night, with his hands folded before‘If I understand this good lady,’ said Mr Pecksniff, turning their entrance, nor gave any sign of consciousness, until Mrto Jonas, ‘Mr Chuffey is troublesome to her. Shall I fetch Pecksniff took him by the arm, when he meekly rose.him down?’‘Three score and ten,’ said Chuffey, ‘ought and carry seven.‘Do,’ said Jonas. ‘I was going to tell you he was up there, Some men are so strong that they live to four score—fourwhen she came in. I’d go myself and bring him down, only— times ought’s an ought, four times two’s an eight—eighty.only I’d rather you went, if you don’t mind.’Oh! why—why—why didn’t he live to four times ought’s anMr Pecksniff promptly departed, followed by Mrs Gamp, ought, and four times two’s an eight, eighty?’who, seeing that he took a bottle and glass from the cupboard,and carried it in his hand, was much softened. self of the bottle and‘Ah! what a wale of grief!’ cried Mrs Gamp, possessing her-glass.321

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Why did he die before his poor old crazy servant?’ said liquor—were so turned up, as to be quite invisible. But sheChuffey, clasping his hands and looking up in anguish. ‘Take shook her head still.him from me, and what remains?’Poor Chuffey was conducted to his accustomed corner, and‘Mr Jonas,’ returned Pecksniff, ‘Mr Jonas, my good friend.’ there he remained, silent and quiet, save at long intervals, when‘I loved him,’ cried the old man, weeping. ‘He was good to he would rise, and walk about the room, and wring his hands,me. We learnt Tare and Tret together at school. I took him or raise some strange and sudden cry. For a whole week theydown once, six boys in the arithmetic class. God forgive me! all three sat about the hearth and never stirred abroad. MrHad I the heart to take him down!’Pecksniff would have walked out in the evening time, but‘Come, Mr Chuffey,’ said Pecksniff. ‘Come with me. Summonup your fortitude, Mr Chuffey.’he abandoned the idea, and so, from morning until night,Mr Jonas was so averse to his being absent for a minute, that‘Yes, I will,’ returned the old clerk. ‘Yes. I’ll sum up my they brooded together in the dark room, without relief orforty —How many times forty—Oh, Chuzzlewit and Son— occupation.Your own son Mr Chuzzlewit; your own son, sir!’The weight of that which was stretched out, stiff and stark,He yielded to the hand that guided him, as he lapsed into in the awful chamber above-stairs, so crushed and bore downthis familiar expression, and submitted to be led away. Mrs Jonas, that he bent beneath the load. During the whole longGamp, with the bottle on one knee, and the glass on the seven days and nights, he was always oppressed and hauntedother, sat upon a stool, shaking her head for a long time, by a dreadful sense of its presence in the house. Did the dooruntil, in a moment of abstraction, she poured out a dram of move, he looked towards it with a livid face and starting eye,spirits, and raised it to her lips. It was succeeded by a second, as if he fully believed that ghostly fingers clutched the handle.and by a third, and then her eyes—either in the sadness of her Did the fire fiicker in a draught of air, he glanced over hisreflections upon life and death, or in her admiration of the shoulder, as almost dreading to behold some shrouded figure322

Charles Dickensfanning and flapping at it with its fearful dress. The lightest consolation as might have converted a Heathen—especially ifnoise disturbed him; and once, in the night, at the sound of a he had had but an imperfect acquaintance with the Englishfootstep overhead, he cried out that the dead man was walking—tramp,tramp, tramp—about his coffin.Nor did Mr Pecksniff alone indulge in the creature com-tongue.He lay at night upon a mattress on the floor of the sittingroom;his own chamber having been assigned to Mrs Gamp; in her eating, and repudiated hashed mutton with scorn. Inforts during this sad time. Mrs Gamp proved to be very choiceand Mr Pecksniff was similarly accommodated. The howling her drinking too, she was very punctual and particular, requiringa pint of mild porter at lunch, a pint at dinner, half-a-of a dog before the house, filled him with a terror he couldnot disguise. He avoided the reflection in the opposite windowsof the light that burned above, as though it had been an and a pint of the celebrated staggering ale, or Real Old Brightonpint as a species of stay or holdfast between dinner and tea,angry eye. He often, in every night, rose up from his fitful Tipper, at supper; besides the bottle on the chimney-piece,sleep, and looked and longed for dawn; all directions and and such casual invitations to refresh herself with wine as thearrangements, even to the ordering of their daily meals, he good breeding of her employers might prompt them to offer.In like manner, Mr Mould’s men found it necessary toabandoned to Mr Pecksniff. That excellent gentleman, deemingthat the mourner wanted comfort, and that high feeding drown their grief, like a young kitten in the morning of itswas likely to do him infinite service, availed himself of these existence, for which reason they generally fuddled themselvesopportunities to such good purpose, that they kept quite a before they began to do anything, lest it should make headdainty table during this melancholy season; with sweetbreads, and get the better of them. In short, the whole of that strangestewed kidneys, oysters, and other such light viands for supperevery night; over which, and sundry jorums of hot punch, and every one, except poor Chuffey, who came within theweek was a round of dismal joviality and grim enjoyment;Mr Pecksniff delivered such moral reflections and spiritual shadow of Anthony Chuzzlewit’s grave, feasted like a Ghoul.323

Martin ChuzzlewitAt length the day of the funeral, pious and truthful ceremony ‘Ha, ha!’ laughed Mr Mould. ‘You have been breakfastingthat it was, arrived. Mr Mould, with a glass of generous port betweenhis eye and the light, leaned against the desk in the little glass ing, by the aid of a little shaving-glass which hung opposite,at somebody’s expense this morning, Mrs Gamp.’ But see-office with his gold watch in his unoccupied hand, and conversed that he looked merry, he composed his features and becamewith Mrs Gamp; two mutes were at the house-door, looking as sorrowful.mournful as could be reasonably expected of men with such a ‘Many’s the time that I’ve not breakfasted at my own expensealong of your recommending, sir; and many’s the timethriving job in hand; the whole of Mr Mould’s establishment wereon duty within the house or without; feathers waved, horses I hope to do the same in time to come,’ said Mrs Gamp,snorted, silk and velvets fluttered; in a word, as Mr Mould emphaticallysaid, ‘Everything that money could do was done.’ ‘So be it,’ replied Mr Mould, ‘please Providence. No, Mrswith an apologetic curtsey.‘And what can do more, Mrs Gamp?’ exclaimed the undertakeras he emptied his glass and smacked his lips.money with a well-conducted establishment, where the thingGamp; I’ll tell you why it is. It’s because the laying out of‘Nothing in the world, sir.’is performed upon the very best scale, binds the broken heart,‘Nothing in the world,’ repeated Mr Mould. ‘You are right, and sheds balm upon the wounded spirit. Hearts want binding,and spirits want balming when people die; not whenMrs.Gamp. Why do people spend more money’—here hefilled his glass again—’upon a death, Mrs Gamp, than upon a people are born. Look at this gentleman to-day; look at him.’birth? Come, that’s in your way; you ought to know. How ‘An open-handed gentleman?’ cried Mrs Gamp, with enthusiasm.do you account for that now?’‘Perhaps it is because an undertaker’s charges comes dearer ‘No, no,’ said the undertaker; ‘not an open-handed gentlemanin general, by any means. There you mistake him; butthan a nurse’s charges, sir,’ said Mrs Gamp, tittering, andsmoothing down her new black dress with her hands. an afflicted gentleman, an affectionate gentleman, who knows324

Charles Dickenswhat it is in the power of money to do, in giving him relief, Mrs Gamp had begun to make a suitable reply, when sheand in testifying his love and veneration for the departed. It was interrupted by the appearance of one of Mr Mould’s assistants—hischief mourner in fact—an obese person, withcan give him,’ said Mr Mould, waving his watch-chain slowlyround and round, so that he described one circle after every his waistcoat in closer connection with his legs than is quiteitem; ‘it can give him four horses to each vehicle; it can give reconcilable with the established ideas of grace; with that casthim velvet trappings; it can give him drivers in cloth cloaks of feature which is figuratively called a bottle nose; and withand top-boots; it can give him the plumage of the ostrich, a face covered all over with pimples. He had been a tenderdyed black; it can give him any number of walking attendants,dressed in the first style of funeral fashion, and carrying atmosphere of funerals, had run to seed.plant once upon a time, but from constant blowing in the fatbatons tipped with brass; it can give him a handsome tomb; ‘Well, Tacker,’ said Mr Mould, ‘is all ready below?’it can give him a place in Westminster Abbey itself, if he choose ‘A beautiful show, sir,’ rejoined Tacker. ‘The horses areto invest it in such a purchase. Oh! do not let us say that gold prouder and fresher than ever I see ‘em; and toss their heads,is dross, when it can buy such things as these, Mrs Gamp.’ they do, as if they knowed how much their plumes cost. One,‘But what a blessing, sir,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘that there are two, three, four,’ said Mr Tacker, heaping that number ofsuch as you, to sell or let ‘em out on hire!’black cloaks upon his left arm.‘Aye, Mrs Gamp, you are right,’ rejoined the undertaker. ‘Is Tom there, with the cake and wine?’ asked Mr Mould.‘We should be an honoured calling. We do good by stealth, ‘Ready to come in at a moment’s notice, sir,’ said Tacker.and blush to have it mentioned in our little bills. How much ‘Then,’ rejoined Mr Mould, putting up his watch, andconsolation may I—even I,’ cried Mr Mould, ‘have diffused glancing at himself in the little shaving-glass, that he mightamong my fellow-creatures by means of my four long-tailed be sure his face had the right expression on it; ‘then I think weprancers, never harnessed under ten pund ten!’may proceed to business. Give me the paper of gloves, Tacker.325

Martin ChuzzlewitAh, what a man he was! Ah, Tacker, Tacker, what a man he Mr Pecksniff took some also.was!’‘At about half-past one o’clock in the morning, sir,’ resumedMr Tacker, who from his great experience in the performance the doctor, ‘I was called up to attend that case. At the firstof funerals, would have made an excellent pantomime actor, pull of the night-bell I turned out, threw up the window, andwinked at Mrs Gamp without at all disturbing the gravity of put out my head. Cloak, eh? Don’t tie it too tight. That’llhis countenance, and followed his master into the next room. do.’It was a great point with Mr Mould, and a part of his professionaltact, not to seem to know the doctor; though in garment, the doctor resumed.Mr Pecksniff having been likewise inducted into a similarreality they were near neighbours, and very often, as in the ‘And put out my head—hat, eh? My good friend, that ispresent instance, worked together. So he advanced to fit on not mine. Mr Pecksniff, I beg your pardon, but I think wehis black kid gloves as if he had never seen him in all his life; have unintentionally made an exchange. Thank you. Well,while the doctor, on his part, looked as distant and unconsciousas if he had heard and read of undertakers, and had ‘We are quite ready,’ interrupted Mould in a low voice.sir, I was going to tell you—’passed their shops, but had never before been brought into ‘Ready, eh?’ said the doctor. ‘Very good, Mr Pecksniff, I’llcommunication with one.take an opportunity of relating the rest in the coach. It’s rather‘Gloves, eh?’ said the doctor. ‘Mr Pecksniff after you.’ curious. Ready, eh? No rain, I hope?’‘I couldn’t think of it,’ returned Mr Pecksniff.‘Quite fair, sir,’ returned Mould.‘You are very good,’ said the doctor, taking a pair. ‘Well, sir, ‘I was afraid the ground would have been wet,’ said theas I was saying—I was called up to attend that case at about doctor, ‘for my glass fell yesterday. We may congratulate ourselvesupon our good fortune.’ But seeing by this time thathalf-past one o’clock. Cake and wine, eh? Which is port?Thank you.’Mr Jonas and Chuffey were going out at the door, he put a326

Charles Dickenswhite pocket-handkerchief to his face as if a violent burst of unworthy of such an occasion; and he never ought to havegrief had suddenly come upon him, and walked down side been there.by side with Mr Pecksniff.There he was, however; and in the churchyard there he was,Mr Mould and his men had not exaggerated the grandeur also, conducting himself in a no less unbecoming manner,of the arrangements. They were splendid. The four hearsehorses,especially, reared and pranced, and showed their high-he was fit for nothing better than a walking funeral. Butand leaning for support on Tacker, who plainly told him thatest action, as if they knew a man was dead, and triumphed in Chuffey, Heaven help him! heard no sound but the echoes,it. ‘They break us, drive us, ride us; ill-treat, abuse, and maim lingering in his own heart, of a voice for ever silent.us for their pleasure—But they die; Hurrah, they die!’ ‘I loved him,’ cried the old man, sinking down upon theSo through the narrow streets and winding city ways, went grave when all was done. ‘He was very good to me. Oh, myAnthony Chuzzlewit’s funeral; Mr Jonas glancing stealthily dear old friend and master!’out of the coach-window now and then, to observe its effect ‘Come, come, Mr Chuffey,’ said the doctor, ‘this won’t do;upon the crowd; Mr Mould as he walked along, listening it’s a clayey soil, Mr Chuffey. You mustn’t, really.’with a sober pride to the exclamations of the bystanders; the ‘If it had been the commonest thing we do, and Mr Chuffeydoctor whispering his story to Mr Pecksniff, without appearingto come any nearer the end of it; and poor old Chuffey ploring glance upon them, as he helped to raise him, ‘hehad been a Bearer, gentlemen,’ said Mould, casting an im-sobbing unregarded in a corner. But he had greatly scandalizedMr Mould at an early stage of the ceremony by carrying ‘Be a man, Mr Chuffey,’ said Pecksniff.couldn’t have gone on worse than this.’his handkerchief in his hat in a perfectly informal manner, ‘Be a gentleman, Mr Chuffey,’ said Mould.and wiping his eyes with his knuckles. And as Mr Mould ‘Upon my word, my good friend,’ murmured the doctor,himself had said already, his behaviour was indecent, and quite in a tone of stately reproof, as he stepped up to the old man’s327

Martin Chuzzlewitside, ‘this is worse than weakness. This is bad, selfish, very composure, however, was but momentary, and he soon recovered.But these were not the only changes he had exhib-wrong, Mr Chuffey. You should take example from others,my good sir. You forget that you were not connected by ties ited that day. The curious eyes of Mr Pecksniff had observedof blood with our deceased friend; and that he had a very near that as soon as they left the house upon their mournful errand,he began to mend; that as the ceremonies proceeded heand very dear relation, Mr Chuffey.’‘Aye, his own son!’ cried the old man, clasping his hands gradually, by little and little, recovered his old condition, hiswith remarkable passion. ‘His own, own, only son!’ old looks, his old bearing, his old agreeable characteristics of‘He’s not right in his head, you know,’ said Jonas, turning speech and manner, and became, in all respects, his old pleasantself. And now that they were seated in the coach on theirpale. ‘You’re not to mind anything he says. I shouldn’t wonderif he was to talk some precious nonsense. But don’t you return home; and more when they got there, and found themind him, any of you. I don’t. My father left him to my windows open, the light and air admitted, and all traces ofcharge; and whatever he says or does, that’s enough. I’ll take the late event removed; he felt so well convinced that Jonascare of him.’was again the Jonas he had known a week ago, and not theA hum of admiration rose from the mourners (including Jonas of the intervening time, that he voluntarily gave up hisMr Mould and his merry men) at this new instance of magnanimityand kind feeling on the part of Jonas. But Chuffey cise it, and at once fell back into his former position of mildrecently-acquired power without one faint attempt to exer-put it to the test no farther. He said not a word more, and and deferential guest.being left to himself for a little while, crept back again to the Mrs Gamp went home to the bird-fancier’s, and was knockedcoach.up again that very night for a birth of twins; Mr Mould dinedIt has been said that Mr Jonas turned pale when the gayly in the bosom of his family, and passed the evening facetiouslyat his club; the hearse, after standing for a long time behaviour of the old clerk attracted general attention; his dis-at328

the door of a roistering public-house, repaired to its stableswith the feathers inside and twelve red-nosed undertakers onthe roof, each holding on by a dingy peg, to which, in timesof state, a waving plume was fitted; the various trappings ofsorrow were carefully laid by in presses for the next hirer; thefiery steeds were quenched and quiet in their stalls; the doctorgot merry with wine at a wedding-dinner, and forgot themiddle of the story which had no end to it; the pageant of afew short hours ago was written nowhere half so legibly as inthe undertaker’s books.Not in the churchyard? Not even there. The gates wereclosed; the night was dark and wet; the rain fell silently, amongthe stagnant weeds and nettles. One new mound was therewhich had not been there last night. Time, burrowing like amole below the ground, had marked his track by throwingup another heap of earth. And that was all.Charles DickensCHAPTER TWENTYIS A CHAPTER OF LOVE‘PECKSNIFF,’ SAID JONAS, taking off his hat, to see that theblack crape band was all right; and finding that it was, puttingit on again, complacently; ‘what do you mean to giveyour daughters when they marry?’‘My dear Mr Jonas,’ cried the affectionate parent, with aningenuous smile, ‘what a very singular inquiry!’‘Now, don’t you mind whether it’s a singular inquiry or aplural one,’ retorted Jonas, eyeing Mr Pecksniff with no greatfavour, ‘but answer it, or let it alone. One or the other.’‘Hum! The question, my dear friend,’ said Mr Pecksniff,laying his hand tenderly upon his kinsman’s knee, ‘is involvedwith many considerations. What would I give them? Eh?’‘Ah! what would you give ‘em?’ repeated Jonas.‘Why, that, ‘said Mr Pecksniff, ‘would naturally depend ina great measure upon the kind of husbands they might choose,my dear young friend.’Mr Jonas was evidently disconcerted, and at a loss how to329

Martin Chuzzlewitproceed. It was a good answer. It seemed a deep one, but such myself—bestow upon my daughters portions reaching to theis the wisdom of simplicity!’very utmost limit of my means.’‘My standard for the merits I would require in a son-inlaw,’said Mr Pecksniff, after a short silence, ‘is a high one. But who can wonder that such a man as Mr Pecksniff, afterThis was strong language, and it was earnestly delivered.Forgive me, my dear Mr Jonas,’ he added, greatly moved, ‘if all he had seen and heard of Mr Jonas, should be strong andI say that you have spoiled me, and made it a fanciful one; an earnest upon such a theme; a theme that touched even theimaginative one; a prismatically tinged one, if I may be permittedto call it so.’Mr Jonas was silent, and looked thoughtfully at the land-worldly lips of undertakers with the honey of eloquence!‘What do you mean by that?’ growled Jonas, looking at scape. For they were seated on the outside of the coach, at thehim with increased disfavour.back, and were travelling down into the country. He accompaniedMr Pecksniff home for a few days’ change of air and‘Indeed, my dear friend,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘you may wellinquire. The heart is not always a royal mint, with patent scene after his recent trials.machinery to work its metal into current coin. Sometimes it ‘Well,’ he said, at last, with captivating bluntness, ‘supposethrows it out in strange forms, not easily recognized as coin at you got one such son-in-law as me, what then?’all. But it is sterling gold. It has at least that merit. It is sterlinggold.’prise; then gradually breaking into a sort of dejected vivacity,Mr Pecksniff regarded him at first with inexpressible sur-‘Is it?’ grumbled Jonas, with a doubtful shake of the head. said:‘Aye!’ said Mr Pecksniff, warming with his subject ‘it is. To ‘Then well I know whose husband he would be!’be plain with you, Mr Jonas, if I could find two such sons-inlawas you will one day make to some deserving man, capable ‘My eldest girl’s, Mr Jonas,’ replied Pecksniff, with moist-‘Whose?’ asked Jonas, drily.of appreciating a nature such as yours, I would—forgetful of ening eyes. ‘My dear Cherry’s; my staff, my scrip, my trea-330

Charles Dickenssure, Mr Jonas. A hard struggle, but it is in the nature of which admonished Mr Pecksniff that his dear friend was notthings! I must one day part with her to a husband. I know it, to be trifled with or fenced off, and that he must either returnmy dear friend. I am prepared for it.’a straight-forward reply to his question, or plainly give him‘Ecod! you’ve been prepared for that a pretty long time, I to understand that he declined to enlighten him upon theshould think,’ said Jonas.subject to which it referred. Mindful in this dilemma of the‘Many have sought to bear her from me,’ said Mr Pecksniff. caution old Anthony had given him almost with his latest‘All have failed. “I never will give my hand, papa”—those were breath, he resolved to speak to the point, and so told Mrher words—”unless my heart is won.” She has not been quite Jonas (enlarging upon the communication as a proof of hisso happy as she used to be, of late. I don’t know why.’ great attachment and confidence), that in the case he had put;Again Mr Jonas looked at the landscape; then at the coachman;then at the luggage on the roof; finally at Mr Pecksniff. daughter’s hand, he would endow her with a fortune of fourto wit, in the event of such a man as he proposing for his‘I suppose you’ll have to part with the other one, some of thousand pounds.these days?’ he observed, as he caught that gentleman’s eye. ‘I should sadly pinch and cramp myself to do so,’ was his‘Probably,’ said the parent. ‘Years will tame down the wildnessof my foolish bird, and then it will be caged. But Cherry, science would reward me. For myself, my conscience is myfatherly remark; ‘but that would be my duty, and my con-Mr Jonas, Cherry—’bank. I have a trifle invested there—a mere trifle, Mr Jonas—‘Oh, ah!’ interrupted Jonas. ‘Years have made her all right but I prize it as a store of value, I assure you.’enough. Nobody doubts that. But you haven’t answered what The good man’s enemies would have divided upon thisI asked you. Of course, you’re not obliged to do it, you know, question into two parties. One would have asserted withoutif you don’t like. You’re the best judge.’scruple that if Mr Pecksniff’s conscience were his bank, andThere was a warning sulkiness in the manner of this speech, he kept a running account there, he must have overdrawn it331

Martin Chuzzlewitbeyond all mortal means of computation. The other would and brought him down, that gentleman may have been led tohave contended that it was a mere fictitious form; a perfectly consider himself as specially licensed to bag sparrows, and asblank book; or one in which entries were only made with a being specially seized and possessed of all the birds he had gotpeculiar kind of invisible ink to become legible at some indefinitetime; and that he never troubled it at all.vidual—but especially the former—are held to be speciallytogether. That many undertakings, national as well as indi-‘It would sadly pinch and cramp me, my dear friend,’ repeatedMr Pecksniff, ‘but Providence—perhaps I may be per-be so regarded on any other process of reasoning, must bebrought to a glorious and successful issue, which never couldmitted to say a special Providence—has blessed my endeavours, clear to all men. Therefore the precedents would seem to showand I could guarantee to make the sacrifice.’that Mr Pecksniff had (as things go) good argument for whatA question of philosophy arises here, whether Mr Pecksniff he said and might be permitted to say it, and did not say ithad or had not good reason to say that he was specially patronizedand encouraged in his undertakings. All his life long faith and great wisdom.presumptuously, vainly, or arrogantly, but in a spirit of highhe had been walking up and down the narrow ways and byplaces,with a hook in one hand and a crook in the other, with theories of this nature, expressed no opinion on the sub-Mr Jonas, not being much accustomed to perplex his mindscraping all sorts of valuable odds and ends into his pouch. ject. Nor did he receive his companion’s announcement withNow, there being a special Providence in the fall of a sparrow, one solitary syllable, good, bad, or indifferent. He preservedit follows (so Mr Pecksniff, and only such admirable men, this taciturnity for a quarter of an hour at least, and duringwould have reasoned), that there must also be a special Providencein the alighting of the stone or stick, or other substance subjecting some given amount to the operation of every knownthe whole of that time appeared to be steadily engaged inwhich is aimed at the sparrow. And Mr Pecksniff’s hook, or rule in figures; adding to it, taking from it, multiplying it,crook, having invariably knocked the sparrow on the head reducing it by long and short division; working it by the rule-332

Charles Dickensof-three direct and inversed; exchange or barter; practice; simple for this Pecksniff.’ It was not a joke either, as Mr Pecksniff atinterest; compound interest; and other means of arithmetical first supposed; for he went off to the coach without furthercalculation. The result of these labours appeared to be satisfactory,for when he did break silence, it was as one who had But Mr Pecksniff was a man of meek endurance, and Mrceremony, and left his respected victim to settle the bill.arrived at some specific result, and freed himself from a state Jonas was his friend. Moreover, his regard for that gentlemanof distressing uncertainty.was founded, as we know, on pure esteem, and a knowledge‘Come, old Pecksniff!’—Such was his jocose address, as he of the excellence of his character. He came out from the tavernwith a smiling face, and even went so far as to repeat theslapped that gentleman on the back, at the end of the stage—’let’s have something!’performance, on a less expensive scale, at the next ale-house.‘With all my heart,’ said Mr Pecksniff.There was a certain wildness in the spirits of Mr Jonas (not‘Let’s treat the driver,’ cried Jonas.usually a part of his character) which was far from being subduedby these means, and, for the rest of the journey, he was‘If you think it won’t hurt the man, or render him discontentedwith his station—certainly,’ faltered Mr Pecksniff. so very buoyant—it may be said, boisterous—that MrJonas only laughed at this, and getting down from the coachtopwith great alacrity, cut a cumbersome kind of caper in the They were not expected—oh dear, no! Mr Pecksniff had pro-Pecksniff had some difficulty in keeping pace with him.road. After which, he went into the public-house, and there posed in London to give the girls a surprise, and had said heordered spirituous drink to such an extent, that Mr Pecksniff wouldn’t write a word to prepare them on any account, in orderhad some doubts of his perfect sanity, until Jonas set them that he and Mr Jonas might take them unawares, and just seequite at rest by saying, when the coach could wait no longer: what they were doing, when they thought their dear papa was‘I’ve been standing treat for a whole week and more, and miles and miles away. As a consequence of this playful device,letting you have all the delicacies of the season. You shall pay there was nobody to meet them at the finger-post, but that was333

Martin Chuzzlewitof small consequence, for they had come down by the day coach, ‘Precious dull,’ said Mr Jonas, looking about. ‘It’s enoughand Mr Pecksniff had only a carpetbag, while Mr Jonas had only to make a man go melancholy mad.’a portmanteau. They took the portmanteau between them, put ‘We shall have lights and a fire soon,’ observed Mr Pecksniff.the bag upon it, and walked off up the lane without delay; Mr ‘We shall need ‘em by the time we get there,’ said Jonas.Pecksniff already going on tiptoe as if, without this precaution, ‘Why the devil don’t you talk? What are you thinking of?’his fond children, being then at a distance of a couple of miles or ‘To tell you the truth, Mr Jonas,’ said Pecksniff with greatso, would have some filial sense of his approach.solemnity, ‘my mind was running at that moment on ourIt was a lovely evening in the spring-time of the year; and in late dear friend, your departed father.’the soft stillness of the twilight, all nature was very calm and Mr Jonas immediately let his burden fall, and said, threateninghim with his hand:beautiful. The day had been fine and warm; but at the comingon of night, the air grew cool, and in the mellowing distancesmoke was rising gently from the cottage chimneys. Mr Pecksniff not exactly knowing whether allusion was‘Drop that, Pecksniff!’There were a thousand pleasant scents diffused around, from made to the subject or the portmanteau, stared at his friendyoung leaves and fresh buds; the cuckoo had been singing all in unaffected surprise.day long, and was but just now hushed; the smell of earth ‘Drop it, I say!’ cried Jonas, fiercely. ‘Do you hear? Drop it,newly-upturned, first breath of hope to the first labourer afterhis garden withered, was fragrant in the evening breeze. It ‘It was quite a mistake,’ urged Mr Pecksniff, very muchnow and for ever. You had better, I give you notice!’was a time when most men cherish good resolves, and sorrow dismayed; ‘though I admit it was foolish. I might have knownfor the wasted past; when most men, looking on the shadows it was a tender string.’as they gather, think of that evening which must close on all, ‘Don’t talk to me about tender strings,’ said Jonas, wipinghis forehead with the cuff of his coat. ‘I’m not and that to-morrow which has none beyond.going334

Charles Dickensto be crowed over by you, because I don’t like dead company.’glancing at him, which was a new source of embarrassment.that gentleman glanced towards Mr Jonas, he found Mr JonasMr Pecksniff had got out the words ‘Crowed over, Mr It was but a short-lived one, though, for Mr Jonas soon beganto whistle, whereupon Mr Pecksniff, taking his cue fromJonas!’ when that young man, with a dark expression in hiscountenance, cut him short once more:his friend, began to hum a tune melodiously.‘Mind!’ he said. ‘I won’t have it. I advise you not to revive ‘Pretty nearly there, ain’t we?’ said Jonas, when this hadthe subject, neither to me nor anybody else. You can take a lasted some time.hint, if you choose as well as another man. There’s enough ‘Close, my dear friend,’ said Mr Pecksniff.said about it. Come along!’‘What’ll they be doing, do you suppose?’ asked Jonas.Taking up his part of the load again, when he had said these ‘Impossible to say,’ cried Mr Pecksniff. ‘Giddy truants! Theywords, he hurried on so fast that Mr Pecksniff, at the other may be away from home, perhaps. I was going to—he! he!end of the portmanteau, found himself dragged forward, in a he!—I was going to propose,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘that wevery inconvenient and ungraceful manner, to the great detrimentof what is called by fancy gentlemen ‘the bark’ upon his clap of thunder, Mr Jonas.’should enter by the back way, and come upon them like ashins, which were most unmercifully bumped against the hard It might not have been easy to decide in respect of which ofleather and the iron buckles. In the course of a few minutes, their manifold properties, Jonas, Mr Pecksniff, the carpet-bag,however, Mr Jonas relaxed his speed, and suffered his companionto come up with him, and to bring the portmanteau But Mr Jonas giving his assent to this proposal, they stole roundand the portmanteau, could be likened to a clap of thunder.into a tolerably straight position.into the back yard, and softly advanced towards the kitchenIt was pretty clear that he regretted his late outbreak, and window, through which the mingled light of fire and candlethat he mistrusted its effect on Mr Pecksniff; for as often as shone upon the darkening night.335

Martin ChuzzlewitTruly Mr Pecksniff is blessed in his children—in one of ‘That, indeed, is not such hospitality as I would show to you,them, at any rate. The prudent Cherry—staff and scrip, and my friend,’ cried Mr Pecksniff, pressing his hand. And then hetreasure of her doting father—there she sits, at a little table took a long breath, and tapping at the window, shouted withwhite as driven snow, before the kitchen fire, making up accounts!See the neat maiden, as with pen in hand, and calcu-‘Boh!’stentorian blandness:lating look addressed towards the ceiling and bunch of keys Cherry dropped her pen and screamed. But innocence iswithin a little basket at her side, she checks the housekeeping ever bold, or should be. As they opened the door, the valiantexpenditure! From flat-iron, dish-cover, and warming-pan; girl exclaimed in a firm voice, and with a presence of mindfrom pot and kettle, face of brass footman, and black-leaded which even in that trying moment did not desert her, ‘Whostove; bright glances of approbation wink and glow upon are you? What do you want? Speak! or I will call my Pa.’her. The very onions dangling from the beam, mantle and Mr Pecksniff held out his arms. She knew him instantly,shine like cherubs’ cheeks. Something of the influence of those and rushed into his fond embrace.vegetables sinks into Mr Pecksniff’s nature. He weeps. ‘It was thoughtless of us, Mr Jonas, it was very thoughtless,’said Pecksniff, smoothing his daugther’s hair. ‘My dar-It is but for a moment, and he hides it from the observationof his friend—very carefully—by a somewhat elaborate ling, do you see that I am not alone!’use of his pocket-handkerchief, in fact; for he would not have Not she. She had seen nothing but her father until now.his weakness known.She saw Mr Jonas now, though; and blushed, and hung her‘Pleasant,’ he murmured, ‘pleasant to a father’s feelings! My head down, as she gave him welcome.dear girl! Shall we let her know we are here, Mr Jonas?’ But where was Merry? Mr Pecksniff didn’t ask the question‘Why, I suppose you don’t mean to spend the evening in in reproach, but in a vein of mildness touched with a gentlethe stable, or the coach-house,’ he returned.sorrow. She was upstairs, reading on the parlour couch. Ah!336

Charles DickensDomestic details had no charms for her. ‘But call her down,’ the same bantering description, as they all four ascended tosaid Mr Pecksniff, with a placid resignation. ‘Call her down, the parlour; where—for the young ladies happened, by goodmy love.’fortune, to be a little later than usual that night—the teaboardwas at that moment being set out.She was called and came, all flushed and tumbled from reposing onthe sofa; but none the worse for that. No, not at all. Rather the better, Mr Pinch was not at home, so they had it all to themselves,if anything.and were very snug and talkative, Jonas sitting between the‘Oh my goodness me!’ cried the arch girl, turning to her two sisters, and displaying his gallantry in that engaging mannerwhich was peculiar to him. It was a hard thing, Mrcousin when she had kissed her father on both cheeks, and inher frolicsome nature had bestowed a supernumerary salute Pecksniff said, when tea was done, and cleared away, to leaveupon the tip of his nose, ‘You here, fright! Well, I’m very so pleasant a little party, but having some important papersthankful that you won’t trouble me much!’to examine in his own apartment, he must beg them to excusehim for half an hour. With this apology he withdrew,‘What! you’re as lively as ever, are you?’ said Jonas. ‘Oh!You’re a wicked one!’singing a careless strain as he went. He had not been gone five‘There, go along!’ retorted Merry, pushing him away. ‘I’m minutes, when Merry, who had been sitting in the window,sure I don’t know what I shall ever do, if I have to see much apart from Jonas and her sister, burst into a half-smotheredof you. Go along, for gracious’ sake!’laugh, and skipped towards the door.Mr Pecksniff striking in here, with a request that Mr Jonas ‘Hallo!’ cried Jonas. ‘Don’t go.’would immediately walk upstairs, he so far complied with ‘Oh, I dare say!’ rejoined Merry, looking back. ‘You’re verythe young lady’s adjuration as to go at once. But though he anxious I should stay, fright, ain’t you?’had the fair Cherry on his arm, he could not help looking ‘Yes, I am,’ said Jonas. ‘Upon my word I am. I want toback at her sister, and exchanging some further dialogue of speak to you.’ But as she left the room notwithstanding, he337

Martin Chuzzlewitran out after her, and brought her back, after a short struggle ‘I want to have some sober talk,’ said Jonas; ‘I want toin the passage which scandalized Miss Cherry very much. prevent any mistakes, you know, and to put everything upon‘Upon my word, Merry,’ urged that young lady, ‘I wonder a pleasant understanding. That’s desirable and proper, ain’tat you! There are bounds even to absurdity, my dear.’ it?’‘Thank you, my sweet,’ said Merry, pursing up her rosy Neither of the sisters spoke a word. Mr Jonas paused andLips. ‘Much obliged to it for its advice. Oh! do leave me cleared his throat, which was very dry.alone, you monster, do!’ This entreaty was wrung from her ‘She’ll not believe what I am going to say, will she, cousin?’by a new proceeding on the part of Mr Jonas, who pulled her said Jonas, timidly squeezing Miss Charity.down, all breathless as she was, into a seat beside him on the ‘Really, Mr Jonas, I don’t know, until I hear what it is. It’ssofa, having at the same time Miss Cherry upon the other quite impossible!’side.‘Why, you see,’ said Jonas, ‘her way always being to make‘Now,’ said Jonas, clasping the waist of each; ‘I have got game of people, I know she’ll laugh, or pretend to—I knowboth arms full, haven’t I?’that, beforehand. But you can tell her I’m in earnest, cousin;‘One of them will be black and blue to-morrow, if you can’t you? You’ll confess you know, won’t you? You’ll bedon’t let me go,’ cried the playful Merry.honourable, I’m sure,’ he added persuasively.‘Ah! I don’t mind your pinching,’ grinned Jonas, ‘a bit.’ No answer. His throat seemed to grow hotter and hotter,‘Pinch him for me, Cherry, pray,’ said Mercy. ‘I never did and to be more and more difficult of control.hate anybody so much as I hate this creature, I declare!’ ‘You see, Cousin Charity,’ said Jonas, ‘nobody but you can‘No, no, don’t say that,’ urged Jonas, ‘and don’t pinch either,because I want to be serious. I say—Cousin Charity—’ were both at the boarding-house in the city, because nobody’stell her what pains I took to get into her company when you‘Well! what?’ she answered sharply.so well aware of it, you know. Nobody else can tell her how338

Charles Dickenshard I tried to get to know you better, in order that I might marking her progress as she went by such a train of passionateget to know her without seeming to wish it; can they? I alwaysasked you about her, and said where had she gone, and her anger could produce.and incoherent sound, as nothing but a slighted woman inwhen would she come, and how lively she was, and all that; ‘Let me go away. Let me go after her,’ said Merry, pushingdidn’t I, cousin? I know you’ll tell her so, if you haven’t told him off, and giving him—to tell the truth—more than oneher so already, and—and—I dare say you have, because I’m sounding slap upon his outstretched face.sure you’re honourable, ain’t you?’‘Not till you say yes. You haven’t told me. Will you haveStill not a word. The right arm of Mr Jonas—the elder me for your husband?’sister sat upon his right—may have been sensible of some ‘No, I won’t. I can’t bear the sight of you. I have told you sotumultuous throbbing which was not within itself; but nothingelse apprised him that his words had had the least effect. you liked my sister best. We all thought so.’a hundred times. You are a fright. Besides, I always thought‘Even if you kept it to yourself, and haven’t told her,’ resumedJonas, ‘it don’t much matter, because you’ll bear hon-‘Yes it was; you know it was.’‘But that wasn’t my fault,’ said Jonas.est witness now; won’t you? We’ve been very good friends ‘Any trick is fair in love,’ said Jonas. ‘She may have thoughtfrom the first; haven’t we? and of course we shall be quite I liked her best, but you didn’t.’friends in future, and so I don’t mind speaking before you a ‘I did!’bit. Cousin Mercy, you’ve heard what I’ve been saying. She’ll ‘No, you didn’t. You never could have thought I liked herconfirm it, every word; she must. Will you have me for your best, when you were by.’husband? Eh?’‘There’s no accounting for tastes,’ said Merry; ‘at least IAs he released his hold of Charity, to put this question with didn’t mean to say that. I don’t know what I mean. Let me gobetter effect, she started up and hurried away to her own room, to her.’339

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Say “Yes,” and then I will.’wonder, but not before he had shut the door, and set his back‘If I ever brought myself to say so, it should only be that I against it. ‘Girls! Daughters! What is this?’might hate and tease you all my life.’‘The wretch; the apostate; the false, mean, odious villain; has‘That’s as good,’ cried Jonas, ‘as saying it right out. It’s a before my very face proposed to Mercy!’ was his eldest daughter’sbargain, cousin. We’re a pair, if ever there was one.’ answer.This gallant speech was succeeded by a confused noise of ‘Who has proposed to Mercy!’ asked Mr Pecksniff.kissing and slapping; and then the fair but much dishevelled ‘He has. That thing, Jonas, downstairs.’Merry broke away, and followed in the footsteps of her sister. ‘Jonas proposed to Mercy?’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Aye, aye!Now whether Mr Pecksniff had been listening—which in Indeed!’one of his character appears impossible; or divined almost by ‘Have you nothing else to say?’ cried Charity. ‘Am I to beinspiration what the matter was—which, in a man of his sagacityis far more probable; or happened by sheer good for-‘Oh, fie! For shame!’ said Mr Pecksniff, gravely. ‘Oh, fordriven mad, papa? He has proposed to Mercy, not to me.’tune to find himself in exactly the right place, at precisely the shame! Can the triumph of a sister move you to this terribleright time—which, under the special guardianship in which display, my child? Oh, really this is very sad! I am sorry; I amhe lived might very reasonably happen; it is quite certain that surprised and hurt to see you so. Mercy, my girl, bless you!at the moment when the sisters came together in their own See to her. Ah, envy, envy, what a passion you are!’room, he appeared at the chamber door. And a marvellous Uttering this apostrophe in a tone full of grief and lamentation,Mr Pecksniff left the room (taking care to shut the doorcontrast it was—they so heated, noisy, and vehement; he socalm, so self-possessed, so cool and full of peace, that not a behind him), and walked downstairs into the parlour. Therehair upon his head was stirred.he found his intended son-in-law, whom he seized by both‘Children!’ said Mr Pecksniff, spreading out his hands in hands.340

Charles Dickens‘Jonas!’ cried Mr Pecksniff. ‘Jonas! the dearest wish of my ‘Mr Pinch,’ said Pecksniff, ‘this is hardly decent. You willheart is now fulfilled!’excuse my saying that I think your conduct scarcely decent,‘Very well; I’m glad to hear it,’ said Jonas. ‘That’ll do. I say! Mr Pinch.’As it ain’t the one you’re so fond of, you must come down ‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ replied Tom, ‘for not knocking atwith another thousand, Pecksniff. You must make it up five. the door.’It’s worth that, to keep your treasure to yourself, you know. ‘Rather beg this gentleman’s pardon, Mr Pinch,’ saidYou get off very cheap that way, and haven’t a sacrifice to Pecksniff. ‘I know you; he does not.—My young man, Mrmake.’Jonas.’The grin with which he accompanied this, set off his other The son-in-law that was to be gave him a slight nod—notattractions to such unspeakable advantage, that even Mr actively disdainful or contemptuous, only passively; for hePecksniff lost his presence of mind for a moment, and looked was in a good humour.at the young man as if he were quite stupefied with wonder ‘Could I speak a word with you, sir, if you please?’ saidand admiration. But he quickly regained his composure, and Tom. ‘It’s rather pressing.’was in the very act of changing the subject, when a hasty step ‘It should be very pressing to justify this strange behaviour,was heard without, and Tom Pinch, in a state of great excitement,came darting into the room.my dear friend. Now, sir, what is the reason of this roughMr Pinch,’ returned his master. ‘Excuse me for one moment,On seeing a stranger there, apparently engaged with Mr intrusion?’Pecksniff in private conversation, Tom was very much ‘I am very sorry, sir, I am sure,’ said Tom, standing, cap inabashed, though he still looked as if he had something of hand, before his patron in the passage; ‘and I know it mustgreat importance to communicate, which would be a sufficientapology for his intrusion.‘It has a very rude appearance, Mrhave a very rude appearance—’Pinch.’341

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Yes, I feel that, sir; but the truth is, I was so surprised to see said. And then they said—she said, I mean, “I believe you livethem, and knew you would be too, that I ran home very fast with Mr Pecksniff, sir?” I said I had that honour, and I tookindeed, and really hadn’t enough command over myself to the liberty, sir,’ added Tom, raising his eyes to his benefactor’sknow what I was doing very well. I was in the church just face, ‘of saying, as I always will and must, with your permission,that I was under great obligations to you, and nevernow, sir, touching the organ for my own amusement, when Ihappened to look round, and saw a gentleman and lady standingin the aisle listening. They seemed to be strangers, sir, as ‘That,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘was very, very wrong. Take yourcould express my sense of them sufficiently.’well as I could make out in the dusk; and I thought I didn’t time, Mr Pinch.’know them; so presently I left off, and said, would they walk ‘Thank you, sir,’ cried Tom. ‘On that they asked me—sheup into the organ-loft, or take a seat? No, they said, they asked, I mean—”Wasn’t there a bridle road to Mr Pecksniff’swouldn’t do that; but they thanked me for the music they house?”’had heard. In fact,’ observed Tom, blushing, ‘they said, “Deliciousmusic!” at least, SHE did; and I am sure that was a ‘“Without going by the Dragon?” When I said there was,Mr Pecksniff suddenly became full of interest.greater pleasure and honour to me than any compliment I and said how happy I should be to show it ‘em, they sent thecould have had. I—I—beg your pardon sir;’ he was all in a carriage on by the road, and came with me across the meadows.I left ‘em at the turnstile to run forward and tell youtremble, and dropped his hat for the second time ‘but I—I’mrather flurried, and I fear I’ve wandered from the point.’ they were coming, and they’ll be here, sir, in—in less than a‘If you will come back to it, Thomas,’ said Mr Pecksniff, minute’s time, I should say,’ added Tom, fetching his breathwith an icy look, ‘I shall feel obliged.’with difficulty.‘Yes, sir,’ returned Tom, ‘certainly. They had a posting carriageat the porch, sir, and had stopped to hear the organ, they people‘Now, who,’ said Mr Pecksniff, pondering, ‘who may thesebe?’342

Charles Dickens‘Bless my soul, sir!’ cried Tom, ‘I meant to mention that at ting, so filled the entrapped architect with dismay, that if Tomfirst, I thought I had. I knew them—her, I mean—directly. could have been a Gorgon staring at Mr Pecksniff, and MrThe gentleman who was ill at the Dragon, sir, last winter; and Pecksniff could have been a Gorgon staring at Tom, they couldthe young lady who attended him.’not have horrified each other half so much as in their ownTom’s teeth chattered in his head, and he positively staggeredwith amazement, at witnessing the extraordinary effect ‘Dear, dear!’ cried Tom, ‘what have I done? I hoped it wouldbewildered persons.produced on Mr Pecksniff by these simple words. The dread be a pleasant surprise, sir. I thought you would like to know.’of losing the old man’s favour almost as soon as they were But at that moment a loud knocking was heard at the hallreconciled, through the mere fact of having Jonas in the house; door.the impossibility of dismissing Jonas, or shutting him up, ortying him hand and foot and putting him in the coal-cellar,without offending him beyond recall; the horrible discordanceprevailing in the establishment, and the impossibility of reducingit to decent harmony with Charity in loud hysterics,Mercy in the utmost disorder, Jonas in the parlour, and MartinChuzzlewit and his young charge upon the very doorsteps;the total hopelessness of being able to disguise or feasiblyexplain this state of rampant confusion; the sudden accumulationover his devoted head of every complicated perplexityand entanglement for his extrication from which hehad trusted to time, good fortune, chance, and his own plot-343

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONEMORE AMERICAN EXPERIENCES, MAR-TIN TAKES A PARTNER, AND MAKES APURCHASE. SOME ACCOUNT OF EDEN,AS IT APPEARED ON PAPER. ALSO OFTHE BRITISH LION. ALSO OF THE KINDOF SYMPATHY PROFESSED AND ENTER-TAINED BY THE WATERTOAST ASSOCIA-TION OF UNITED SYMPATHISERSTHE KNOCKING AT Mr Pecksniff’s door, though loud enough,bore no resemblance whatever to the noise of an American railwaytrain at full speed. It may be well to begin the present chapterwith this frank admission, lest the reader should imagine thatthe sounds now deafening this history’s ears have any connectionwith the knocker on Mr Pecksniff’s door, or with the great amountof agitation pretty equally divided between that worthy man andMr Pinch, of which its strong performance was the cause.Martin Chuzzlewit344Mr Pecksniff’s house is more than a thousand leagues away;and again this happy chronicle has Liberty and Moral Sensibilityfor its high companions. Again it breathes the blessedair of Independence; again it contemplates with pious awethat moral sense which renders unto Ceasar nothing that ishis; again inhales that sacred atmosphere which was the life ofhim—oh noble patriot, with many followers!—who dreamedof Freedom in a slave’s embrace, and waking sold her offspringand his own in public markets.How the wheels clank and rattle, and the tram-road shakes, asthe train rushes on! And now the engine yells, as it were lashedand tortured like a living labourer, and writhed in agony. A poorfancy; for steel and iron are of infinitely greater account, in thiscommonwealth, than flesh and blood. If the cunning work ofman be urged beyond its power of endurance, it has within it theelements of its own revenge; whereas the wretched mechanismof the Divine Hand is dangerous with no such property, but maybe tampered with, and crushed, and broken, at the driver’s pleasure.Look at that engine! It shall cost a man more dollars in theway of penalty and fine, and satisfaction of the outraged law, todeface in wantonness that senseless mass of metal, than to take

Charles Dickensthe lives of twenty human creatures! Thus the stars wink upon car, the gentlemen’s car, and the car for negroes; the latterthe bloody stripes; and Liberty pulls down her cap upon her painted black, as an appropriate compliment to its company.eyes, and owns Oppression in its vilest aspect, for her sister. Martin and Mark Tapley were in the first, as it was the mostThe engine-driver of the train whose noise awoke us to the comfortable; and, being far from full, received other gentlemenwho, like them, were unblessed by the society of ladiespresent chapter was certainly troubled with no such reflectionsas these; nor is it very probable that his mind was disturbedby any reflections at all. He leaned with folded arms in earnest conversation.of their own. They were seated side by side, and were engagedand crossed legs against the side of the carriage, smoking; and, ‘And so, Mark,’ said Martin, looking at him with an anxiousexcept when he expressed, by a grunt as short as his pipe, his expression, ‘and so you are glad we have left New York far behindus, are you?’approval of some particularly dexterous aim on the part ofhis colleague, the fireman, who beguiled his leisure by throwinglogs of wood from the tender at the numerous stray cattle ‘Were you not “jolly” there?’ asked Martin.‘Yes, sir,’ said Mark. ‘I am. Precious glad.’on the line, he preserved a composure so immovable, and an ‘On the contrairy, sir,’ returned Mark. ‘The jolliest week asindifference so complete, that if the locomotive had been a ever I spent in my life, was that there week at Pawkins’s.’sucking-pig, he could not have been more perfectly indifferentto its doings. Notwithstanding the tranquil state of this with an air that plainly said he had avoided the question for‘What do you think of our prospects?’ inquired Martin,officer, and his unbroken peace of mind, the train was proceedingwith tolerable rapidity; and the rails being but poorly ‘Uncommon bright, sir,’ returned Mark. ‘Impossible for asome time.laid, the jolts and bumps it met with in its progress were place to have a better name, sir, than the Walley of Eden. Noneither slight nor few.man couldn’t think of settling in a better place than the WalleyThere were three great caravans or cars attached. The ladies’ of Eden. And I’m told,’ added Mark, after a pause, ‘as there’s345

Martin Chuzzlewitlots of serpents there, so we shall come out, quite complete it,” I told him. “Oh!” says he, “if you should ever happen toand reg’lar.’go to bed there—you may, you know,” he says, “in course ofSo far from dwelling upon this agreeable piece of informationwith the least dismay, Mark’s face grew radiant as he you.” I looks at him tolerable hard. “Fleas?” says I. “And more,”time as civilisation progresses—don’t forget to take a axe withcalled it to mind; so very radiant, that a stranger might have says he. “Wampires?” says I. “And more,” says he. “Musquitoes,supposed he had all his life been yearning for the society of perhaps?” says I. “And more,” says he. “What more?” says I.serpents, and now hailed with delight the approaching consummationof his fondest wishes.extent, stranger. There air some catawampous chawers in the“Snakes more,” says he; “rattle-snakes. You’re right to a certain‘Who told you that?’ asked Martin, sternly.small way too, as graze upon a human pretty strong; but don’t‘A military officer,’ said Mark.mind them—they’re company. It’s snakes,” he says, “as you’ll‘Confound you for a ridiculous fellow!’ cried Martin, laughingheartily in spite of himself. ‘What military officer? You poster on your bed,” he says, “like a corkscrew with the handleobject to; and whenever you wake and see one in a uprightknow they spring up in every field.’off a-sittin’ on its bottom ring, cut him down, for he means‘As thick as scarecrows in England, sir,’ interposed Mark, wenom.”’‘which is a sort of milita themselves, being entirely coat and ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before!’ cried Martin, with anwescoat, with a stick inside. Ha, ha!—Don’t mind me, sir; expression of face which set off the cheerfulness of Mark’sit’s my way sometimes. I can’t help being jolly. Why it was visage to great advantage.one of them inwading conquerors at Pawkins’s, as told me. ‘I never thought on it, sir,’ said Mark. ‘It come in at one ear,“Am I rightly informed,” he says—not exactly through his and went out at the other. But Lord love us, he was one ofnose, but as if he’d got a stoppage in it, very high up—”that another Company, I dare say, and only made up the storyyou’re a-going to the Walley of Eden?” “I heard some talk on that we might go to his Eden, and not the opposition one’346

Charles Dickens‘There’s some probability in that,’ observed Martin. ‘I can corners, and even then with a glance that seemed to say, ‘Nowhonestly say that I hope so, with all my heart.’you won’t overreach me; you want to, but you won’t.’ His‘I’ve not a doubt about it, sir,’ returned Mark, who, full of arms rested carelessly on his knees as he leant forward; in thethe inspiriting influence of the anecodote upon himself, had palm of his left hand, as English rustics have their slice offor the moment forgotten its probable effect upon his master;‘anyhow, we must live, you know, sir.’struck into the dialogue with as little reserve as if he had beencheese, he had a cake of tobacco; in his right a penknife. He‘Live!’ cried Martin. ‘Yes, it’s easy to say live; but if we specially called in, days before, to hear the arguments on bothshould happen not to wake when rattlesnakes are making sides, and favour them with his opinion; and he no morecorkscrews of themselves upon our beds, it may be not so contemplated or cared for the possibility of their not desiringeasy to do it.’the honour of his acquaintance or interference in their private‘And that’s a fact,’ said a voice so close in his ear that it affairs than if he had been a bear or a buffalo.tickled him. ‘That’s dreadful true.’‘That,’ he repeated, nodding condescendingly to Martin, asMartin looked round, and found that a gentleman, on the to an outer barbarian and foreigner, ‘is dreadful true. Darn allseat behind, had thrust his head between himself and Mark, manner of vermin.’and sat with his chin resting on the back rail of their little Martin could not help frowning for a moment, as if hebench, entertaining himself with their conversation. He was were disposed to insinuate that the gentleman had unconsciously‘darned’ himself. But remembering the wisdom ofas languid and listless in his looks as most of the gentlementhey had seen; his cheeks were so hollow that he seemed to be doing at Rome as Romans do, he smiled with the pleasantestalways sucking them in; and the sun had burnt him, not a expression he could assume upon so short a notice.wholesome red or brown, but dirty yellow. He had bright Their new friend said no more just then, being busily employedin cutting a quid or plug from his cake of dark eyes, which he kept half closed; only peeping out of thetobacco,347

Martin Chuzzlewitand whistling softly to himself the while. When he had tently during the whole interval of silence; ‘how’s the unnat’ralshaped it to his liking, he took out his old plug, and depositedthe same on the back of the seat between Mark and Mr Tapley regarding this inquiry as only another version ofold parent by this time?’Martin, while he thrust the new one into the hollow of his the impertinent English question, ‘How’s your mother?’ wouldcheek, where it looked like a large walnut, or tolerable pippin.Finding it quite satisfactory, he stuck the point of his tion.have resented it instantly, but for Martin’s prompt interposi-knife into the old plug, and holding it out for their inspection,remarked with the air of a man who had not lived in ‘Ah!’ was the reply. ‘How’s she? Progressing back’ards, I ex-‘You mean the old country?’ he said.vain, that it was ‘used up considerable.’ Then he tossed it pect, as usual? Well! How’s Queen Victoria?’away; put his knife into one pocket and his tobacco into ‘In good health, I believe,’ said Martin.another; rested his chin upon the rail as before; and approvingof the pattern on Martin’s waistcoat, reached out his she hears to-morrow named,’ observed the stranger, ‘No.’‘Queen Victoria won’t shake in her royal shoes at all, whenhand to feel the texture of that garment.‘Not that I am aware of. Why should she?’‘What do you call this now?’ he asked.‘She won’t be taken with a cold chill, when she realises what‘Upon my word’ said Martin, ‘I don’t know what it’s called.’ is being done in these diggings,’ said the stranger. ‘No.’‘It’ll cost a dollar or more a yard, I reckon?’‘No,’ said Martin. ‘I think I could take my oath of that.’‘I really don’t know.’The strange gentleman looked at him as if in pity for his‘In my country,’ said the gentleman, ‘we know the cost of ignorance or prejudice, and said:our own pro-duce.’‘Well, sir, I tell you this—there ain’t a engine with its bilerMartin not discussing the question, there was a pause. bust, in God A’mighty’s free U-nited States, so fixed, and‘Well!’ resumed their new friend, after staring at them in-nipped, and frizzled to a most e-tarnal smash, as that young348

Charles Dickenscritter, in her luxurious location in the Tower of London will listening to a whisper from Mark; ‘if, sir, in such a place, andbe, when she reads the next double-extra Watertoast Gazette.’ at such a time, I might venture to con-clude with a sentiment,glancing—however slantin’dicularly—at the subject inSeveral other gentlemen had left their seats and gatheredround during the foregoing dialogue. They were highly delightedwith this speech. One very lank gentleman, in a loose eradicated by the noble bill of the American Eagle, and behand, I would say, sir, may the British Lion have his talonslimp white cravat, long white waistcoat, and a black greatcoat,who seemed to be in authority among them, felt called music which is breathed in every empty shell that lies upontaught to play upon the Irish Harp and the Scotch Fiddle thatupon to acknowledge it.the shores of green Co-lumbia!’‘Hem! Mr La Fayette Kettle,’ he said, taking off his hat. Here the lank gentleman sat down again, amidst a greatThere was a grave murmur of ‘Hush!’sensation; and every one looked very grave.‘Mr La Fayette Kettle! Sir!’‘General Choke,’ said Mr La Fayette Kettle, ‘you warm myMr Kettle bowed.heart; sir, you warm my heart. But the British Lion is not‘In the name of this company, sir, and in the name of our unrepresented here, sir; and I should be glad to hear his answerto those remarks.’common country, and in the name of that righteous cause ofholy sympathy in which we are engaged, I thank you. I thank ‘Upon my word,’ cried Martin, laughing, ‘since you do meyou, sir, in the name of the Watertoast Sympathisers; and I the honour to consider me his representative, I have only tothank you, sir, in the name of the Watertoast Gazette; and I say that I never heard of Queen Victoria reading the What’shis-nameGazette and that I should scarcely think it prob-thank you, sir, in the name of the star-spangled banner of theGreat United States, for your eloquent and categorical exposition.And if, sir,’ said the speaker, poking Martin with the General Choke smiled upon the rest, and said, in patientable.’handle of his umbrella to bespeak his attention, for he was and benignant explanation:349

Martin Chuzzlewit‘It is sent to her, sir. It is sent to her. Her mail.’very extraordinary circumstance, which I impute to the natur’‘But if it is addressed to the Tower of London, it would of British Institutions and their tendency to suppress thathardly come to hand, I fear,’ returned Martin; ‘for she don’t popular inquiry and information which air so widely diffusedlive there.’even in the trackless forests of this vast Continent of the WesternOcean; that the knowledge of Britishers themselves on‘The Queen of England, gentlemen,’ observed Mr Tapley,affecting the greatest politeness, and regarding them with an such points is not to be compared with that possessed by ourimmovable face, ‘usually lives in the Mint to take care of the intelligent and locomotive citizens. This is interesting, andmoney. She HAS lodgings, in virtue of her office, with the confirms my observation. When you say, sir,’ he continued,Lord Mayor at the Mansion House; but don’t often occupy addressing Martin, ‘that your Queen does not reside in thethem, in consequence of the parlour chimney smoking.’ Tower of London, you fall into an error, not uncommon to‘Mark,’ said Martin, ‘I shall be very much obliged to you if your countrymen, even when their abilities and moral elementsair such as to command respect. But, sir, you air wrong.you’ll have the goodness not to interfere with preposterousstatements, however jocose they may appear to you. I was She does live there—’merely remarking gentlemen—though it’s a point of very little ‘When she is at the Court of Saint James’s,’ interposedimport—that the Queen of England does not happen to live Kettle.in the Tower of London.’‘When she is at the Court of Saint James’s, of course,’ returnedthe General, in the same benignant way; ‘for if her‘General!’ cried Mr La Fayette Kettle. ‘You hear?’‘General!’ echoed several others. ‘General!’location was in Windsor Pavilion it couldn’t be in London at‘Hush! Pray, silence!’ said General Choke, holding up his the same time. Your Tower of London, sir,’ pursued the General,smiling with a mild consciousness of his knowledge, ‘ishand, and speaking with a patient and complacent benevolencethat was quite touching. ‘I have always remarked it as a nat’rally your royal residence. Being located in the immediate350

Charles Dickensneighbourhood of your Parks, your Drives, your Triumphant introduction to you, sir. From Mr Bevan, of Massachusetts,’Arches, your Opera, and your Royal Almacks, it nat’rally suggestsitself as the place for holding a luxurious and thought-The General took it and read it attentively; now and thenhe added, giving it to him.less court. And, consequently,’ said the General, ‘consequently, stopping to glance at the two strangers. When he had finishedthe court is held there.’the note, he came over to Martin, sat down by him, and‘Have you been in England?’ asked Martin.shook hands.‘In print I have, sir,’ said the General, ‘not otherwise. We air ‘Well!’ he said, ‘and you think of settling in Eden?’a reading people here, sir. You will meet with much informationamong us that will surprise you, sir.’Martin. ‘I am told there is nothing to be done in the old‘Subject to your opinion, and the agent’s advice,’ replied‘I have not the least doubt of it,’ returned Martin. But here towns.’he was interrupted by Mr La Fayette Kettle, who whispered ‘I can introduce you to the agent, sir,’ said the General. ‘Iin his ear:know him. In fact, I am a member of the Eden Land Corporationmyself.’‘You know General Choke?’‘No,’ returned Martin, in the same tone.This was serious news to Martin, for his friend had laid‘You know what he is considered?’great stress upon the General’s having no connection, as he‘One of the most remarkable men in the country?’ said thought, with any land company, and therefore being likelyMartin, at a venture.to give him disinterested advice. The General explained that‘That’s a fact,’ rejoined Kettle. ‘I was sure you must have he had joined the Corporation only a few weeks ago, and thatheard of him!’no communication had passed between himself and Mr Bevan‘I think,’ said Martin, addressing himself to the General since.again, ‘that I have the pleasure of being the bearer of a letter of ‘We have very little to venture,’ said Martin anxiously—351

Martin Chuzzlewit’only a few pounds—but it is our all. Now, do you think Martin tried to look convinced, but he thought of Newthat for one of my profession, this would be a speculation York, and found it difficult.with any hope or chance in it?’‘What are the Great United States for, sir,’ pursued the General‘if not for the regeneration of man? But it is nat’ral in you‘Well,’ observed the General, gravely, ‘if there wasn’t anyhope or chance in the speculation, it wouldn’t have engaged to make such an enquerry, for you come from England, andmy dollars, I opinionate.’you do not know my country.’‘I don’t mean for the sellers,’ said Martin. ‘For the buyers— ‘Then you think,’ said Martin, ‘that allowing for the hardshipswe are prepared to undergo, there is a reasonable—for the buyers!’‘For the buyers, sir?’ observed the General, in a most impressivemanner. ‘Well! you come from an old country; from a coun-in this place?’Heaven knows we don’t expect much—a reasonable openingtry, sir, that has piled up golden calves as high as Babel, and worshipped‘em for ages. We are a new country, sir; man is in a more agent; see the maps and plans, sir; and conclude to go or stay,‘A reasonable opening in Eden, sir! But see the agent, see theprimeval state here, sir; we have not the excuse of having lapsed according to the natur’ of the settlement. Eden hadn’t need toin the slow course of time into degenerate practices; we have no go a-begging yet, sir,’ remarked the General.false gods; man, sir, here, is man in all his dignity. We fought for ‘It is an awful lovely place, sure-ly. And frightful wholesome,likewise!’ said Mr Kettle, who had made himself a partythat or nothing. Here am I, sir,’ said the General, setting up hisumbrella to represent himself, and a villanous-looking umbrella to this conversation as a matter of course.it was; a very bad counter to stand for the sterling coin of his Martin felt that to dispute such testimony, for no betterbenevolence, ‘here am I with grey hairs sir, and a moral sense. reason than because he had his secret misgivings on the subject,would be ungentlemanly and indecent. So he thankedWould I, with my principles, invest capital in this speculation ifI didn’t think it full of hopes and chances for my brother man?’ the General for his promise to put him in personal commu-352

Charles Dickensnication with the agent; and ‘concluded’ to see that officer put their heads, were enjoying themselves after their ownnext morning. He then begged the General to inform him manner in the cool of the evening.who the Watertoast Sympathisers were, of whom he had spokenin addressing Mr La Fayette Kettle, and on what griev-room in which the general table was being set out for supper.There was a great bar-room in this hotel, and a great publicances they bestowed their Sympathy. To which the General, There were interminable whitewashed staircases, long whitewashedgalleries upstairs and downstairs, scores of little white-looking very serious, made answer, that he might fully enlightenhimself on those points to-morrow by attending a washed bedrooms, and a four-sided verandah to every story inGreat Meeting of the Body, which would then be held at the the house, which formed a large brick square with an uncomfortablecourtyard in the centre, where some clothes were dry-town to which they were travelling; ‘over which, sir,’ said theGeneral, ‘my fellow-citizens have called on me to preside.’ ing. Here and there, some yawning gentlemen lounged up andThey came to their journey’s end late in the evening. Close down with their hands in their pockets; but within the houseto the railway was an immense white edifice, like an ugly and without, wherever half a dozen people were collected together,there, in their looks, dress, morals, manners, habits, in-hospital, on which was painted ‘National Hotel.’ There was awooden gallery or verandah in front, in which it was rather tellect, and conversation, were Mr Jefferson Brick, Colonelstartling, when the train stopped, to behold a great many pairs Diver, Major Pawkins, General Choke, and Mr La Fayetteof boots and shoes, and the smoke of a great many cigars, but Kettle, over, and over, and over again. They did the same things;no other evidences of human habitation. By slow degrees, said the same things; judged all subjects by, and reduced allhowever, some heads and shoulders appeared, and connecting subjects to, the same standard. Observing how they lived, andthemselves with the boots and shoes, led to the discovery that how they were always in the enchanting company of each other,certain gentlemen boarders, who had a fancy for putting their Martin even began to comprehend their being the social, cheerful,winning, airy men they heels where the gentlemen boarders in other countries usuallywere.353

Martin ChuzzlewitAt the sounding of a dismal gong, this pleasant company said so at least. I never counted it. But they know, bless you!’went trooping down from all parts of the house to the public said Mark, with a shake of the head expressive of his unboundedconfidence in the wisdom and arithmetic of thoseroom; while from the neighbouring stores other guests cameflocking in, in shoals; for half the town, married folks as well Institutions.as single, resided at the National Hotel. Tea, coffee, dried ‘The money we brought with us,’ said Martin, ‘is reducedmeats, tongue, ham, pickles, cake, toast, preserves, and bread to a few shillings less than eight pounds.’and butter, were swallowed with the usual ravaging speed; Mr Tapley smiled, and looked all manner of ways, that heand then, as before, the company dropped off by degrees, and might not be supposed to attach any importance to this fact.lounged away to the desk, the counter, or the bar-room. The ‘Upon the ring—her ring, Mark,’ said Martin, looking ruefullyat his empty finger—ladies had a smaller ordinary of their own, to which theirhusbands and brothers were admitted if they chose; and in all ‘Ah!’ sighed Mr Tapley. ‘Beg your pardon, sir.’other respects they enjoyed themselves as at Pawkins’s. ‘—We raised, in English money, fourteen pounds. So, even‘Now, Mark, my good fellow, said Martin, closing the door with that, your share of the stock is still very much the largerof his little chamber, ‘we must hold a solemn council, for our of the two you see. Now, Mark,’ said Martin, in his old way,fate is decided to-morrow morning. You are determined to just as he might have spoken to Tom Pinch, ‘I have thoughtinvest these savings of yours in the common stock, are you?’ of a means of making this up to you—more than making it‘If I hadn’t been determined to make that wentur, sir,’ answeredMr Tapley, ‘I shouldn’t have come.’pects in life.’up to you, I hope—and very materially elevating your pros-‘How much is there here, did you say’ asked Martin, holdingup a little bag.don’t want no elevating, sir. I’m all right enough, sir, I am.’‘Oh! don’t talk of that, you know, sir,’ returned Mark. ‘I‘Thirty-seven pound ten and sixpence. The Savings’ Bank ‘No, but hear me,’ said Martin, ‘because this is very impor-354

Charles Dickenstant to you, and a great satisfaction to me. Mark, you shall be ‘Lord love you, sir,’ cried Mark, ‘don’t have my name in it.a partner in the business; an equal partner with myself. I will I ain’t acquainted with the business, sir. I must be Co., I must.put in, as my additional capital, my professional knowledge I’ve often thought,’ he added, in a low voice, ‘as I should likeand ability; and half the annual profits, as long as it is carried to know a Co.; but I little thought as ever I should live to beon, shall be yours.’one.’Poor Martin! For ever building castles in the air. For ever, in his ‘You shall have your own way, Mark.’very selfishness, forgetful of all but his own teeming hopes and ‘Thank’ee, sir. If any country gentleman thereabouts, in thesanguine plans. Swelling, at that instant, with the consciousness public way, or otherwise, wanted such a thing as a skittlegroundmade, I could take that part of the bis’ness, sir.’of patronizing and most munificently rewarding Mark!‘I don’t know, sir,’ Mark rejoined, much more sadly than ‘Against any architect in the States,’ said Martin. ‘Get a couplehis custom was, though from a very different cause than of sherry-cobblers, Mark, and we’ll drink success to the firm.’Martin supposed, ‘what I can say to this, in the way of thankingyou. I’ll stand by you, sir, to the best of my ability, and to were no longer master and servant, or considered this kind ofEither he forgot already (and often afterwards), that theythe last. That’s all.’duty to be among the legitimate functions of the Co. But‘We quite understand each other, my good fellow,’ said Martinrising in self-approval and condescension. ‘We are no longer for the night, it was agreed between them that they should goMark obeyed with his usual alacrity; and before they partedmaster and servant, but friends and partners; and are mutually together to the agent’s in the morning, but that Martin shouldgratified. If we determine on Eden, the business shall be commencedas soon as we get there. Under the name,’ said Martin, Mark made no merit, even to himself in his jollity, of thisdecide the Eden question, on his own sound judgment. Andwho never hammered upon an idea that wasn’t red hot, ‘under concession; perfectly well knowing that the matter wouldthe name of Chuzzlewit and Tapley.’come to that in the end, any way.355

Martin ChuzzlewitThe General was one of the party at the public table next shirt collar wide open; so that every time he spoke somethingday, and after breakfast suggested that they should wait upon was seen to twitch and jerk up in his throat, like the littlethe agent without loss of time. They, desiring nothing more, hammers in a harpsichord when the notes are struck. Perhapsagreed; so off they all four started for the office of the Eden it was the Truth feebly endeavouring to leap to his lips. If so,Settlement, which was almost within rifle-shot of the NationalHotel.Two grey eyes lurked deep within this agent’s head, but oneit never reached them.It was a small place—something like a turnpike. But a of them had no sight in it, and stood stock still. With thatgreat deal of land may be got into a dice-box, and why may side of his face he seemed to listen to what the other side wasnot a whole territory be bargained for in a shed? It was but a doing. Thus each profile had a distinct expression; and whentemporary office too; for the Edeners were ‘going’ to build the movable side was most in action, the rigid one was in itsa superb establishment for the transaction of their business, coldest state of watchfulness. It was like turning the man insideout, to pass to that view of his features in his liveliestand had already got so far as to mark out the site. Which isa great way in America. The office-door was wide open, and mood, and see how calculating and intent they were.in the doorway was the agent; no doubt a tremendous fellowto get through his work, for he seemed to have no ar-as any plummet line; but rumpled tufts were on the arches ofEach long black hair upon his head hung down as straightrears, but was swinging backwards and forwards in a rocking-chair,with one of his legs planted high up against the corners had pecked and torn them in a savage recognition ofhis eyes, as if the crow whose foot was deeply printed in thedoor-post, and the other doubled up under him, as if he his kindred nature as a bird of prey.were hatching his foot.Such was the man whom they now approached, and whomHe was a gaunt man in a huge straw hat, and a coat of green the General saluted by the name of Scadder.stuff. The weather being hot, he had no cravat, and wore his ‘Well, Gen’ral,’ he returned, ‘and how are you?’356

Charles Dickens‘Ac-tive and spry, sir, in my country’s service and the sympatheticcause. Two gentlemen on business, Mr Scadder.’ honestest fellow in the world, and that he wouldn’t have givenThe General whispered Martin that Scadder was theHe shook hands with each of them—nothing is done in him offence designedly, for ten thousand dollars.America without shaking hands—then went on rocking. ‘I do my duty; and I raise the dander of my feller critters, as‘I think I know what bis’ness you have brought these strangershere upon, then, Gen’ral?’the road and rocking still. ‘They rile up rough, along of myI wish to serve,’ said Scadder in a low voice, looking down‘Well, sir. I expect you may.’objecting to their selling Eden off too cheap. That’s human‘You air a tongue-y person, Gen’ral. For you talk too much, natur’! Well!’and that’s fact,’ said Scadder. ‘You speak a-larming well in ‘Mr Scadder,’ said the General, assuming his oratorical deportment.‘Sir! Here is my hand, and here my heart. I esteempublic, but you didn’t ought to go ahead so fast in private.Now!’you, sir, and ask your pardon. These gentlemen air friends of‘If I can realise your meaning, ride me on a rail!’ returned mine, or I would not have brought ‘em here, sir, being wellthe General, after pausing for consideration.aware, sir, that the lots at present go entirely too cheap. But‘You know we didn’t wish to sell the lots off right away to these air friends, sir; these air partick’ler friends.’any loafer as might bid,’ said Scadder; ‘but had con-cluded to Mr Scadder was so satisfied by this explanation, that hereserve ‘em for Aristocrats of Natur’. Yes!’shook the General warmly by the hand, and got out of the‘And they are here, sir!’ cried the General with warmth. ‘They rocking-chair to do it. He then invited the General’s particularfriends to accompany him into the office. As to the Gen-are here, sir!’‘If they air here,’ returned the agent, in reproachful accents, eral, he observed, with his usual benevolence, that being one‘that’s enough. But you didn’t ought to have your dander ris of the company, he wouldn’t interfere in the transaction onwith ME, Gen’ral.’any account; so he appropriated the rocking-chair to himself,357

Martin Chuzzlewitand looked at the prospect, like a good Samaritan waiting for ‘Well! it ain’t all built,’ replied the agent. ‘Not quite.’a traveller.This was a great relief.‘Heyday!’ cried Martin, as his eye rested on a great plan ‘The market-place, now,’ said Martin. ‘Is that built?’which occupied one whole side of the office. Indeed, the officehad little else in it, but some geological and botanical ercock on the top. ‘Let me see. No; that ain’t built.’‘That?’ said the agent, sticking his toothpick into the weath-specimens, one or two rusty ledgers, a homely desk, and a ‘Rather a good job to begin with—eh, Mark?’ whisperedstool. ‘Heyday! what’s that?’Martin nudging him with his elbow.‘That’s Eden,’ said Scadder, picking his teeth with a sort of young Mark, who, with a very stolid countenance had been eyeingbayonet that flew out of his knife when he touched a spring. the plan and the agent by turns, merely rejoined ‘Uncommon!’‘Why, I had no idea it was a city.’‘Hadn’t you? Oh, it’s a city.’A dead silence ensued, Mr Scadder in some short recesses orA flourishing city, too! An architectural city! There were vacations of his toothpick, whistled a few bars of Yankeebanks, churches, cathedrals, market-places, factories, hotels, Doodle, and blew the dust off the roof of the Theatre.stores, mansions, wharves; an exchange, a theatre; public buildingsof all kinds, down to the office of the Eden Stinger, a the plan, but showing by his tremulous voice how much de-‘I suppose,’ said Martin, feigning to look more narrowly atdaily journal; all faithfully depicted in the view before them. pended, in his mind, upon the answer; ‘I suppose there are—‘Dear me! It’s really a most important place!’ cried Martin several architects there?’turning round.‘There ain’t a single one,’ said Scadder.‘Oh! it’s very important,’ observed the agent.‘Mark,’ whispered Martin, pulling him by the sleeve, ‘do‘But, I am afraid,’ said Martin, glancing again at the Public you hear that? But whose work is all this before us, then?’ heBuildings, ‘that there’s nothing left for me to do.’asked aloud.358

Charles Dickens‘The soil being very fruitful, public buildings grows spontaneous,perhaps,’ said Mark.plan, and thrust his toothpick into the desk some twentyMr Scadder said nothing, but he set his back against theHe was on the agent’s dark side as he said it; but Scadder times; looking at Mark all the while as if he were stabbinginstantly changed his place, and brought his active eye to bear him in effigy.upon him.‘You haven’t said whose work it is,’ Martin ventured to‘Feel of my hands, young man,’ he said.observe at length, in a tone of mild propitiation.‘What for?’ asked Mark, declining.‘Well, never mind whose work it is, or isn’t,’ said the agent‘Air they dirty, or air they clean, sir?’ said Scadder, holding sulkily. ‘No matter how it did eventuate. P’raps he clearedthem out.off, handsome, with a heap of dollars; p’raps he wasn’t worthIn a physical point of view they were decidedly dirty. But it a cent. P’raps he was a loafin’ rowdy; p’raps a ring-tailed roarer.being obvious that Mr Scadder offered them for examination Now!’in a figurative sense, as emblems of his moral character, Martinhastened to pronounce them pure as the driven snow. ‘P’raps,’ pursued the agent, ‘them ain’t plants of Eden’s rais-‘All your doing, Mark!’ said Martin.‘I entreat, Mark,’ he said, with some irritation, ‘that you ing. No! P’raps that desk and stool ain’t made from Edenwill not obtrude remarks of that nature, which, however lumber. No! P’raps no end of squatters ain’t gone out there.harmless and well-intentioned, are quite out of place, and No! P’raps there ain’t no such location in the territoary of thecannot be expected to be very agreeable to strangers. I am Great U-nited States. Oh, no!’quite surprised.’‘I hope you’re satisfied with the success of your joke, Mark,’‘The Co.’s a-putting his foot in it already,’ thought Mark. said Martin.‘He must be a sleeping partner—fast asleep and snoring— But here, at a most opportune and happy time, the GeneralCo. must; I see.’interposed, and called out to Scadder from the doorway to359

Martin Chuzzlewitgive his friends the particulars of that little lot of fifty acres Martin glanced with sparkling eyes upon his Co., and hiswith the house upon it; which, having belonged to the companyformerly, had lately lapsed again into their hands. The bargain was not concluded as easily as might have beenCo. saw that the thing was done.‘You air a deal too open-handed, Gen’ral,’ was the answer. expected though, for Scadder was caustic and ill-humoured,‘It is a lot as should be rose in price. It is.’and cast much unnecessary opposition in the way; at one timeHe grumblingly opened his books notwithstanding, and alwayskeeping his bright side towards Mark, no matter at what fortnight; at another, predicting that they wouldn’t like it; atrequesting them to think of it, and call again in a week or aamount of inconvenience to himself, displayed a certain leaf another, offering to retract and let them off, and mutteringfor their perusal. Martin read it greedily, and then inquired: strong imprecations upon the folly of the General. But the‘Now where upon the plan may this place be?’whole of the astoundingly small sum total of purchasemoney—itwas only one hundred and fifty dollars, or some-‘Upon the plan?’ said Scadder.‘Yes.’thing more than thirty pounds of the capital brought by Co.He turned towards it, and reflected for a short time, as if, into the architectural concern—was ultimately paid down;having been put upon his mettle, he was resolved to be particularto the very minutest hair’s breadth of a shade. At length, wooden office, with the consciousness of being a landed pro-and Martin’s head was two inches nearer the roof of the littleafter wheeling his toothpick slowly round and round in the prietor in the thriving city of Eden.air, as if it were a carrier pigeon just thrown up, he suddenly ‘If it shouldn’t happen to fit,’ said Scadder, as he gave Martinthe necessary credentials on recepit of his money, ‘don’tmade a dart at the drawing, and pierced the very centre of themain wharf, through and through.blame me.’‘There!’ he said, leaving his knife quivering in the wall; ‘that’s ‘No, no,’ he replied merrily. ‘We’ll not blame you. General,are you where it is!’going?’360

Charles Dickens‘I am at your service, sir; and I wish you,’ said the General, The General posted along at a great rate, for the clock wasgiving him his hand with grave cordiality, ‘joy of your possession.You air now, sir, a denizen of the most powerful and Meeting of the Watertoast Sympathisers was to be holden inon the stroke of twelve; and at that hour precisely, the Greathighly-civilised dominion that has ever graced the world; a the public room of the National Hotel. Being very curious todo-minion, sir, where man is bound to man in one vast bond witness the demonstration, and know what it was all about,of equal love and truth. May you, sir, be worthy of your a- Martin kept close to the General; and, keeping closer thandopted country!’ever when they entered the Hall, got by that means upon aMartin thanked him, and took leave of Mr Scadder; who little platform of tables at the upper end; where an armchairhad resumed his post in the rocking-chair, immediately on the was set for the General, and Mr La Fayette Kettle, as secretary,was making a great display of some foolscap documents.General’s rising from it, and was once more swinging away as ifhe had never been disturbed. Mark looked back several times as Screamers, no doubt.they went down the road towards the National Hotel, but ‘Well, sir!’ he said, as he shook hands with Martin, ‘here isnow his blighted profile was towards them, and nothing but a spectacle calc’lated to make the British Lion put his tailattentive thoughtfulness was written on it. Strangely different between his legs, and howl with anguish, I expect!’to the other side! He was not a man much given to laughing, Martin certainly thought it possible that the British Lionand never laughed outright; but every line in the print of the might have been rather out of his element in that Ark; but hecrow’s foot, and every little wiry vein in that division of his kept the idea to himself. The General was then voted to thehead, was wrinkled up into a grin! The compound figure of chair, on the motion of a pallid lad of the Jefferson BrickDeath and the Lady at the top of the old ballad was not divided school; who forthwith set in for a high-spiced speech, with awith a greater nicety, and hadn’t halves more monstrously unlikeeach other, than the two profiles of Zephaniah Scadder. chains ofgood deal about hearths and homes in it, and unriveting theTyranny.361

Martin ChuzzlewitOh but it was a clincher for the British Lion, it was! The such cheers arose as might have shaken the hands upon theindignation of the glowing young Columbian knew no Horse-Guards’ clock, and changed the very mean time of thebounds. If he could only have been one of his own forefathers,he said, wouldn’t he have peppered that same Lion, and ‘Who is this?’ Martin telegraphed to La Fayette.day in England’s capital.been to him as another Brute Tamer with a wire whip, teachinghim lessons not easily forgotten. ‘Lion! (cried that young paper, twisted it up, and had it passed to him from hand toThe Secretary wrote something, very gravely, on a piece ofColumbian) where is he? Who is he? What is he? Show him hand. It was an improvement on the old sentiment: ‘Perhapsto me. Let me have him here. Here!’ said the young as remarkable a man as any in our country.’Columbian, in a wrestling attitude, ‘upon this sacred altar. This young Columbian was succeeded by another, to theHere!’ cried the young Columbian, idealising the dining-table, full as eloquent as he, who drew down storms of cheers. But‘upon ancestral ashes, cemented with the glorious blood both remarkable youths, in their great excitement (for yourpoured out like water on our native plains of Chickabiddy true poetry can never stoop to details), forgot to say withLick! Bring forth that Lion!’ said the young Columbian. whom or what the Watertoasters sympathized, and likewise‘Alone, I dare him! I taunt that Lion. I tell that Lion, that why or wherefore they were sympathetic. Thus Martin remainedfor a long time as completely in the dark as ever; untilFreedom’s hand once twisted in his mane, he rolls a corsebefore me, and the Eagles of the Great Republic laugh ha, at length a ray of light broke in upon him through the mediumof the Secretary, who, by reading the minutes of theirha!’When it was found that the Lion didn’t come, but kept out past proceedings, made the matter somewhat clearer. He thenof the way; that the young Columbian stood there, with learned that the Watertoast Association sympathized with afolded arms, alone in his glory; and consequently that the certain Public Man in Ireland, who held a contest upon certainpoints with England; and that they did so, because Eagles were no doubt laughing wildly on the mountain tops;they362

Charles Dickensdidn’t love England at all—not by any means because they name, all the Sympathisers roared aloud; cheering with nineloved Ireland much; being indeed horribly jealous and distrustfulof its people always, and only tolerating them be-times nine, and nine times over.cause of their working hard, which made them very useful; ‘“In Freedom’s name, sir—holy Freedom—I address you.labour being held in greater indignity in the simple republic In Freedom’s name, I send herewith a contribution to thethan in any other country upon earth. This rendered Martin funds of your society. In Freedom’s name, sir, I advert withcurious to see what grounds of sympathy the Watertoast Associationput forth; nor was he long in suspense, for the Genstainedwhiskers, whose rampant cruelty and fiery lust haveindignation and disgust to that accursed animal, with goreeralrose to read a letter to the Public Man, which with his ever been a scourge, a torment to the world. The naked visitorsto Crusoe’s Island, sir; the flying wives of Peter Wilkins;own hands he had written.‘Thus,’ said the General, ‘thus, my friends and fellow-citizens,it runs:men of large stature, anciently bred in the mining districts ofthe fruit-smeared children of the tangled bush; nay, even theCornwall; alike bear witness to its savage nature. Where, sir,‘“SIR—I address you on behalf of the Watertoast Association are the Cormorans, the Blunderbores, the Great Feefofums,of United Sympathisers. It is founded, sir, in the great republicof America! and now holds its breath, and swells the blue hand.named in History? All, all, exterminated by its destroyingveins in its forehead nigh to bursting, as it watches, sir, with ‘“I allude, sir, to the British Lion.feverish intensity and sympathetic ardour, your noble efforts ‘“Devoted, mind and body, heart and soul, to Freedom,in the cause of Freedom.”’sir—to Freedom, blessed solace to the snail upon the cellardoor,the oyster in his pearly bed, the still mite in his home ofAt the name of Freedom, and at every repetition of that cheese, the very winkle of your country in his shelly lair—in363

Martin Chuzzlewither unsullied name, we offer you our sympathy. Oh, sir, in had no sooner possessed himself of the contents of these documents,than a change came over his face, involving such athis our cherished and our happy land, her fires burn brightand clear and smokeless; once lighted up in yours, the lion huge amount of choler and passion, that the noisy concourseshall be roasted whole.were silent in a moment, in very wonder at the sight of him.‘“I am, sir, in Freedom’s name,‘My friends!’ cried the General, rising; ‘my friends and fellowcitizens, we have been mistaken in this man.’‘“Your affectionate friend and faithful Sympathiser,‘In what man?’ was the cry.‘“CYRUS CHOKE,‘In this,’ panted the General, holding up the letter he had‘“General, U.S.M.”’read aloud a few minutes before. ‘I find that he has been, andis, the advocate—consistent in it always too—of Nigger emancipation!’It happened that just as the General began to read this letter,the railroad train arrived, bringing a new mail from England;and a packet had been handed in to the Secretary, which would have pistolled, stabbed—in some way slain—that manIf anything beneath the sky be real, those Sons of Freedomduring its perusal and the frequent cheerings in homage to by coward hands and murderous violence, if he had stoodfreedom, he had opened. Now, its contents disturbed him among them at that time. The most confiding of their ownvery much, and the moment the General sat down, he hurriedto his side, and placed in his hand a letter and several they ever peril—one dunghill straw, upon the life of any mancountrymen would not have wagered then—no, nor wouldprinted extracts from English newspapers; to which, in a state in such a strait. They tore the letter, cast the fragments in theof infinite excitement, he called his immediate attention. air, trod down the pieces as they fell; and yelled, and groaned,The General, being greatly heated by his own composition, and hissed, till they could cry no longer.was in a fit state to receive any inflammable influence; but he ‘I shall move,’ said the General, when he could make him-364

Charles Dickensself heard, ‘that the Watertoast Association of United by the Republican banner, which had been hoisted from theSympathisers be immediately dissolved!’house-top in honour of the occasion, and was fluttering beforea window which he passed.Down with it! Away with it! Don’t hear of it! Burn its records!Pull the room down! Blot it out of human memory! ‘Tut!’ said Martin. ‘You’re a gay flag in the distance. But let‘But, my fellow-countrymen!’ said the General, ‘the contributions.We have funds. What is to be done with the funds?’ see through you; and you are but sorry fustian!’a man be near enough to get the light upon the other side andIt was hastily resolved that a piece of plate should be presentedto a certain constitutional Judge, who had laid downfrom the Bench the noble principle that it was lawful for anyCHAPTER TWENTYwhitemob to murder any black man; and that another pieceof plate, of similar value should be presented to a certain Patriot,who had declared from his high place in the Legislature,TWOthat he and his friends would hang without trial, any Abolitionistwho might pay them a visit. For the surplus, it was MARTIN BECAME A LION OF HIS OWNFROM WHICH IT WILL BE SEEN THATagreed that it should be devoted to aiding the enforcement of ACCOUNT. TOGETHER WITH THE REAthosefree and equal laws, which render it incalculably moreSON WHYcriminal and dangerous to teach a negro to read and writethan to roast him alive in a public city. These points adjusted,AS SOON AS IT was generally known in the National Hotel,the meeting broke up in great disorder, and there was an end that the young Englishman, Mr Chuzzlewit, had purchased aof the Watertoast Sympathy.‘lo-cation’ in the Valley of Eden, and intended to betake himselfto that earthly Paradise by the next steamboat, he As Martin ascended to his bedroom, his eye was attractedbecame365

Martin Chuzzlewita popular character. Why this should be, or how it had come ‘As secretary to the Young Men’s Watertoast Association ofto pass, Martin no more knew than Mrs Gamp, of Kingsgate this town, I am requested to inform you that the Society willStreet, High Holborn, did; but that he was for the time beingthe lion, by popular election, of the Watertoast commu-London, at their Hall to-morrow evening, at seven o’clock;be proud to hear you deliver a lecture upon the Tower ofnity, and that his society was in rather inconvenient request and as a large issue of quarter-dollar tickets may be expected,there could be no kind of doubt.your answer and consent by bearer will be considered obliging.The first notification he received of this change in his position,was the following epistle, written in a thin runninghand—with here and there a fat letter or two, to make the‘Dear Sir,general effect more striking—on a sheet of paper, ruled with‘Yours truly,blue lines.‘LA FAYETTE KETTLE.‘The Honourable M. Chuzzlewit.‘NATIONAL HOTEL,‘MONDAY MORNING.‘P.S.—The Society would not be particular in limiting youto the Tower of London. Permit me to suggest that any remarksupon the Elements of Geology, or (if more conve-‘Dear Sir—’When I had the privillidge of being your fellowtravellerin the cars, the day before yesterday, you offered some nient) upon the Writings of your talented and witty countryman,the honourable Mr Miller, would be well received.’remarks upon the subject of the tower of London, which (incommon with my fellow-citizens generally) I could wish tohear repeated to a public audience.Very much aghast at this invitation, Martin wrote back,366

Charles Dickenscivilly declining it; and had scarcely done so, when he received let me have a list of three or four of those most likely toanother letter.respond, and I will address them through the Post Office.May I also ask you to favour me with any critical observationsthat have ever presented themselves to your reflective‘No. 47, Bunker Hill Street,‘Monday Morning.faculties, on “Cain, a Mystery,” by the Right Honourable Lord‘(Private).Byron?‘Sir—I was raised in those interminable solitudes where ourmighty Mississippi (or Father of Waters) rolls his turbid flood.‘I am young, and ardent. For there is a poetry in wildness,and every alligator basking in the slime is in himself an Epic,self-contained. I aspirate for fame. It is my yearning and mythirst.‘Are you, sir, aware of any member of Congress in England,who would undertake to pay my expenses to that country,and for six months after my arrival?‘There is something within me which gives me the assurancethat this enlightened patronage would not be thrownaway. In literature or art; the bar, the pulpit, or the stage; inone or other, if not all, I feel that I am certain to succeed.‘If too much engaged to write to any such yourself, please‘I am, Sir,‘Yours (forgive me if I add, soaringly),‘PUTNAM SMIF‘P.S.—Address your answer to America Junior, Messrs.Hancock & Floby, Dry Goods Store, as above.’Both of which letters, together with Martin’s reply to each,were, according to a laudable custom, much tending to thepromotion of gentlemanly feeling and social confidence, publishedin the next number of the Watertoast Gazette.He had scarcely got through this correspondence when CaptainKedgick, the landlord, kindly came upstairs to see howhe was getting on. The Captain sat down upon the bed be-367

Martin Chuzzlewitfore he spoke; and finding it rather hard, moved to the pillow.Martin looked despairingly at Mark, who informed him‘A muniment,’ rejoined the Captain.‘Well, sir!’ said the Captain, putting his hat a little more on that the Captain meant a written notice that Mr Chuzzlewitone side, for it was rather tight in the crown: ‘You’re quite a would receive the Watertoasters that day, at and after twopublic man I calc’late.’o’clock which was in effect then hanging in the bar, as Mark,‘So it seems,’ retorted Martin, who was very tired. from ocular inspection of the same, could testify.‘Our citizens, sir,’ pursued the Captain, ‘intend to pay their ‘You wouldn’t be unpop’lar, I know,’ said the Captain, paringhis nails. ‘Our citizens an’t long of riling up, I tell you;respects to you. You will have to hold a sort of le-vee, sir,while you’re here.’and our Gazette could flay you like a wild cat.’‘Powers above!’ cried Martin, ‘I couldn’t do that, my good Martin was going to be very wroth, but he thought betterfellow!’of it, and said:‘I reckon you must then,’ said the Captain.‘In Heaven’s name let them come, then.’‘Must is not a pleasant word, Captain,’ urged Martin. ‘Oh, they’ll come,’ returned the Captain. ‘I have seen the‘Well! I didn’t fix the mother language, and I can’t unfix it,’ big room fixed a’purpose, with my eyes.’said the Captain coolly; ‘else I’d make it pleasant. You must ‘But will you,’ said Martin, seeing that the Captain wasre-ceive. That’s all.’about to go; ‘will you at least tell me this? What do they want‘But why should I receive people who care as much for me to see me for? what have I done? and how do they happen toas I care for them?’ asked Martin.have such a sudden interest in me?’‘Well! because I have had a muniment put up in the bar,’ Captain Kedgick put a thumb and three fingers to each sidereturned the Captain.of the brim of his hat; lifted it a little way off his head; put it‘A what?’ cried Martin.on again carefully; passed one hand all down his face, begin-368

Charles Dickensning at the forehead and ending at the chin; looked at Martin;then at Mark; then at Martin again; winked, and walked such diversities of grasp, the tight, the loose, the short-lived,temperature, the hot, the cold, the dry, the moist, the flabby;out.and the lingering! Still up, up, up, more, more, more; and‘Upon my life, now!’ said Martin, bringing his hand heavily ever and anon the Captain’s voice was heard above the crowd—upon the table; ‘such a perfectly unaccountable fellow as that, ’There’s more below! there’s more below. Now, gentlemenI never saw. Mark, what do you say to this?’you that have been introduced to Mr Chuzzlewit, will you‘Why, sir,’ returned his partner, ‘my opinion is that we must clear gentlemen? Will you clear? Will you be so good as clear,have got to the most remarkable man in the country at last. gentlemen, and make a little room for more?’So I hope there’s an end to the breed, sir.’Regardless of the Captain’s cries, they didn’t clear at all, butAlthough this made Martin laugh, it couldn’t keep off two o’clock. stood there, bolt upright and staring. Two gentlemen connectedwith the Watertoast Gazette had come express to getPunctually, as the hour struck, Captain Kedgick returned to hand himto the room of state; and he had no sooner got him safe there, than he the matter for an article on Martin. They had agreed to dividebawled down the staircase to his fellow-citizens below, that Mr the labour. One of them took him below the waistcoat. OneChuzzlewit was ‘receiving.’above. Each stood directly in front of his subject with hisUp they came with a rush. Up they came until the room head a little on one side, intent on his department. If Martinwas full, and, through the open door, a dismal perspective of put one boot before the other, the lower gentleman was downmore to come, was shown upon the stairs. One after another, upon him; he rubbed a pimple on his nose, and the upperone after another, dozen after dozen, score after score, more, gentleman booked it. He opened his mouth to speak, andmore, more, up they came; all shaking hands with Martin. the same gentleman was on one knee before him, looking inSuch varieties of hands, the thick, the thin, the short, the at his teeth, with the nice scrutiny of a dentist. Amateurs inlong, the fat, the lean, the coarse, the fine; such differences of the physiognomical and phrenological sciences roved about369

Martin Chuzzlewithim with watchful eyes and itching fingers, and sometimes there for their delight. Even when, in the slow course of time,one, more daring than the rest, made a mad grasp at the back these died off, it was as bad as ever, if not worse; for then theof his head, and vanished in the crowd. They had him in all boys grew bold, and came in as a class of themselves, and didpoints of view: in front, in profile, three-quarter face, and everything that the grown-up people had done. Uncouth stragglers,too, appeared; men of a ghostly kind, who being in,behind. Those who were not professional or scientific, audiblyexchanged opinions on his looks. New lights shone in didn’t know how to get out again; insomuch that one silentupon him, in respect of his nose. Contradictory rumours were gentleman with glazed and fishy eyes and only one button onabroad on the subject of his hair. And still the Captain’s voice his waistcoat (which was a very large metal one, and shonewas heard—so stifled by the concourse, that he seemed to prodigiously), got behind the door, and stood there, like aspeak from underneath a feather-bed—exclaiming—’Gentlemen,you that have been introduced to Mr Chuzzlewit, will Martin felt, from pure fatigue, and heat, and worry, as if heclock, long after everybody else was gone.you clear?’could have fallen on the ground and willingly remained there,Even when they began to clear it was no better; for then a if they would but have had the mercy to leave him alone. Butstream of gentlemen, every one with a lady on each arm (exactlylike the chorus to the National Anthem when Royalty if he didn’t see the senders, poured in like hail; and as moreas letters and messages, threatening his public denouncementgoes in state to the play), came gliding in—every new group visitors came while he took his coffee by himself; and as Mark,fresher than the last, and bent on staying to the latest moment.If they spoke to him, which was not often, they invari-he resolved to go to bed—not that he felt at all sure of bedwith all his vigilance, was unable to keep them from the door;ably asked the same questions, in the same tone; with no being any protection, but that he might not leave a forlornmore remorse, or delicacy, or consideration, than if he had hope untried.been a figure of stone, purchased, and paid for, and set up He had communicated this design to Mark, and was on the370

Charles Dickenseve of escaping, when the door was thrown open in a great ‘Mrs Hominy, sir, is the lady of Major Hominy, one of ourhurry, and an elderly gentleman entered; bringing with him a chicest spirits; and belongs Toe one of our most aristocraticlady who certainly could not be considered young—that was families. You air, p’raps, acquainted, sir, with Mrs Hominy’smatter of fact; and probably could not be considered handsome—butthat was matter of opinion. She was very straight, Martin couldn’t say he was.writings.’very tall, and not at all flexible in face or figure. On her head ‘You have much Toe learn, and Toe enjoy, sir,’ said the gentleman.‘Mrs Hominy is going Toe stay until the end of theshe wore a great straw bonnet, with trimmings of the same,in which she looked as if she had been thatched by an unskillfullabourer; and in her hand she held a most enormous fan. Thermopylae, three days this side of Eden. Any attention, sir,Fall, sir, with her married daughter at the settlement of New‘Mr Chuzzlewit, I believe?’ said the gentleman.that you can show Toe Mrs Hominy upon the journey, will‘That is my name.’be very grateful Toe the Major and our fellow-citizens. Mrs‘Sir,’ said the gentleman, ‘I am pressed for time.’Hominy, I wish you good night, ma’am, and a pleasant progresson your route!’‘Thank God!’ thought Martin.‘I go back Toe my home, sir,’ pursued the gentleman, ‘by Martin could scarcely believe it; but he had gone, and Mrsthe return train, which starts immediate. Start is not a word Hominy was drinking the milk.you use in your country, sir.’‘A’most used-up I am, I do declare!’ she observed. ‘The joltingin the cars is pretty nigh as bad as if the rail was full of‘Oh yes, it is,’ said Martin.‘You air mistaken, sir,’ returned the gentleman, with great snags and sawyers.’decision: ‘but we will not pursue the subject, lest it should ‘Snags and sawyers, ma’am?’ said Martin.awake your preju—dice. Sir, Mrs Hominy.’‘Well, then, I do suppose you’ll hardly realise my meaning,Martin bowed.sir,’ said Mrs Hominy. ‘My! Only think! do tell!’371

Martin ChuzzlewitIt did not appear that these expressions, although they ‘Pray, sir!’ said Mrs Hominy, ‘where do you hail from?’seemed to conclude with an urgent entreaty, stood in need of ‘I am afraid I am dull of comprehension,’ answered Martin,‘being extremely tired; but upon my word I don’t under-any answer; for Mrs Hominy, untying her bonnet-strings,observed that she would withdraw to lay that article of dress stand you.’aside, and would return immediately.Mrs Hominy shook her head with a melancholy smile that‘Mark!’ said Martin. ‘Touch me, will you. Am I awake?’ said, not inexpressively, ‘They corrupt even the language in‘Hominy is, sir,’ returned his partner—’Broad awake! Just that old country!’ and added then, as coming down a step orthe sort of woman, sir, as would be discovered with her eyes two to meet his low capacity, ‘Where was you rose?’wide open, and her mind a-working for her country’s good, ‘Oh!’ said Martin ‘I was born in Kent.’at any hour of the day or night.’‘And how do you like our country, sir?’ asked Mrs Hominy.They had no opportunity of saying more, for Mrs Hominy ‘Very much indeed,’ said Martin, half asleep. ‘At least—stalked in again—very erect, in proof of her aristocratic blood; that is—pretty well, ma’am.’and holding in her clasped hands a red cotton pocket-handkerchief,perhaps a parting gift from that choice spirit, the Major. prised by what they see in the U-nited States,’ remarked Mrs‘Most strangers—and partick’larly Britishers—are much sur-She had laid aside her bonnet, and now appeared in a highly Hominy.aristocratic and classical cap, meeting beneath her chin: a style ‘They have excellent reason to be so, ma’am,’ said Martin.of headdress so admirably adapted to her countenance, that if ‘I never was so much surprised in all my life.’the late Mr Grimaldi had appeared in the lappets of Mrs Siddons, ‘Our institutions make our people smart much, sir,’ Mrsa more complete effect could not have been produced. Hominy remarked.Martin handed her to a chair. Her first words arrested him ‘The most short-sighted man could see that at a glance,before he could get back to his own seat.with his naked eye,’ said Martin.372

Charles DickensMrs Hominy was a philosopher and an authoress, and consequentlyhad a pretty strong digestion; but this coarse, this fellow countrymen, who in their every word, avow them-had learnt it from the cant of a class, and a large class, of herindecorous phrase, was almost too much for her. For a gentlemansitting alone with a lady—although the door WAS sprang, a nation, into life, as any Orson in her legislative halls.selves to be as senseless to the high principles on which Americaopen—to talk about a naked eye!Who are no more capable of feeling, or of caring if they didA long interval elapsed before even she—woman of masculineand towering intellect though she was—could call up men’s contempt, they put in hazard the rights of nations yetfeel, that by reducing their own country to the ebb of honestfortitude enough to resume the conversation. But Mrs unborn, and very progress of the human race, than are theHominy was a traveller. Mrs Hominy was a writer of reviews swine who wallow in their streets. Who think that crying outand analytical disquisitions. Mrs Hominy had had her letters to other nations, old in their iniquity, ‘We are no worse thanfrom abroad, beginning ‘My ever dearest blank,’ and signed you!’ (No worse!) is high defence and ‘vantage-ground enough‘The Mother of the Modern Gracchi’ (meaning the married for that Republic, but yesterday let loose upon her nobleMiss Hominy), regularly printed in a public journal, with all course, and but to-day so maimed and lame, so full of soresthe indignation in capitals, and all the sarcasm in italics. Mrs and ulcers, foul to the eye and almost hopeless to the sense,Hominy had looked on foreign countries with the eye of a that her best friends turn from the loathsome creature withperfect republican hot from the model oven; and Mrs disgust. Who, having by their ancestors declared and wonHominy could talk (or write) about them by the hour together.So Mrs Hominy at last came down on Martin heavily, certain Public vices and corruptions, and would not abrogatetheir Independence, because they would not bend the knee toand as he was fast asleep, she had it all her own way, and the truth, run riot in the Bad, and turn their backs upon thebruised him to her heart’s content.Good; and lying down contented with the wretched boastIt is no great matter what Mrs Hominy said, save that she that other Temples also are of glass, and stones which batter373

Martin Chuzzlewittheirs may be flung back; show themselves, in that alone, as Hominy’s freshness next day, or of the avidity with which sheimmeasurably behind the import of the trust they hold, and went headlong into moral philosophy at breakfast. Some littleas unworthy to possess it as if the sordid hucksterings of all additional degree of asperity, perhaps, was visible in her features,but not more than the pickles would have naturallytheir little governments—each one a kingdom in its smalldepravity—were brought into a heap for evidence against produced. All that day she clung to Martin. She sat besidethem.him while he received his friends (for there was another Reception,yet more numerous than the former), propoundedMartin by degrees became so far awake, that he had a senseof a terrible oppression on his mind; an imperfect dream that theories, and answered imaginary objections, so that Martinhe had murdered a particular friend, and couldn’t get rid of really began to think he must be dreaming, and speaking forthe body. When his eyes opened it was staring him full in the two; she quoted interminable passages from certain essays onface. There was the horrible Hominy talking deep truths in a government, written by herself; used the Major’s pocket-handkerchiefas if the snuffle were a temporary malady, of whichmelodious snuffle, and pouring forth her mental endowmentsto such an extent that the Major’s bitterest enemy, hearing she was determined to rid herself by some means or other;her, would have forgiven him from the bottom of his heart. and, in short, was such a remarkable companion, that MartinMartin might have done something desperate if the gong had quite settled it between himself and his conscience, that innot sounded for supper; but sound it did most opportunely; any new settlement it would be absolutely necessary to haveand having stationed Mrs Hominy at the upper end of the such a person knocked on the head for the general peace oftable he took refuge at the lower end himself; whence, after a society.hasty meal he stole away, while the lady was yet busied with In the meantime Mark was busy, from early in the morninguntil late at night, in getting on board the steamboat suchdried beef and a saucer-full of pickled fixings.It would be difficult to give an adequate idea of Mrs provisions, tools and other necessaries, as they had been fore-374

Charles Dickenswarned it would be wise to take. The purchase of these things, letters from strangers; half of them about nothing; half aboutand the settlement of their bill at the National, reduced their borrowing money, and all requiring an instantaneous reply),finances to so low an ebb, that if the captain had delayed his Martin walked down to the wharf, through a concourse ofdeparture any longer, they would have been in almost as bad people, with Mrs Hominy upon his arm; and went on board.a plight as the unfortunate poorer emigrants, who (seduced But Mark was bent on solving the riddle of this lionship, ifon board by solemn advertisement) had been living on the he could; and so, not without the risk of being left behind,lower deck a whole week, and exhausting their miserable stock ran back to the hotel.of provisions before the voyage commenced. There they were, Captain Kedgick was sitting in the colonnade, with a julepall huddled together with the engine and the fires. Farmers on his knee, and a cigar in his mouth. He caught Mark’s eye,who had never seen a plough; woodmen who had never used and said:an axe; builders who couldn’t make a box; cast out of their ‘Why, what the ‘Tarnal brings you here?’own land, with not a hand to aid them: newly come into an ‘I’ll tell you plainly what it is, Captain,’ said Mark. ‘I wantunknown world, children in helplessness, but men in wants— to ask you a question.’with younger children at their backs, to live or die as it might ‘A man may ASK a question, so he may,’ returned Kedgick;happen!strongly implying that another man might not answer a question,so he mightn’t.The morning came, and they would start at noon. Nooncame, and they would start at night. But nothing is eternal in ‘What have they been making so much of him for, now?’this world; not even the procrastination of an American skipper;and at night all was ready.‘Our people like ex-citement,’ answered Kedgick, suckingsaid Mark, slyly. ‘Come!’Dispirited and weary to the last degree, but a greater lion his cigar.than ever (he had done nothing all the afternoon but answer ‘But how has he excited ‘em?’ asked Mark.375

Martin ChuzzlewitThe Captain looked at him as if he were half inclined toCHAPTER TWENTYunburdenhis mind of a capital joke.‘You air a-going?’ he said.THREE‘Going!’ cried Mark. ‘Ain’t every moment precious?’‘Our people like ex-citement,’ said the Captain, whispering.‘He ain’t like emigrants in gin’ral; and he excited ‘em SESSION OF THEIR ESTATE. THE JOYFULMARTIN AND HIS PARTNER TAKE POSalongof this;’ he winked and burst into a smothered laugh; OCCASION INVOLVES SOME FURTHER‘along of this. Scadder is a smart man, and—and—nobody asACCOUNT OF EDENgoes to Eden ever comes back alive!’The wharf was close at hand, and at that instant Mark couldTHERE HAPPENED TO BE on board the steamboat several gentlemenpassengers, of the same stamp as Martin’s New Yorkhear them shouting out his name; could even hear Martin callingto him to make haste, or they would be separated. It was too late friend Mr Bevan; and in their society he was cheerful andto mend the matter, or put any face upon it but the best. He gave happy. They released him as well as they could from the intellectualentanglements of Mrs Hominy; and exhibited, in allthe Captain a parting benediction, and ran off like a race-horse.‘Mark! Mark!’ cried Martin.they said and did, so much good sense and high feeling, that‘Here am I, sir!’ shouted Mark, suddenly replying from the he could not like them too well. ‘If this were a republic ofedge of the quay, and leaping at a bound on board. ‘Never Intellect and Worth,’ he said, ‘instead of vapouring and jobbing,they would not want the levers to keep it in motion.’was half so jolly, sir. All right. Haul in! Go ahead!’The sparks from the wood fire streamed upward from the ‘Having good tools, and using bad ones,’ returned Mrtwo chimneys, as if the vessel were a great firework just lighted; Tapley, ‘would look as if they was rather a poor sort of carpenters,sir, wouldn’t and they roared away upon the dark water.it?’376

Charles DickensMartin nodded. ‘As if their work were infinitely above their He gave no utterance to these sentiments; but the excessivepowers and purpose, Mark; and they botched it in consequence.’brought upon his shining face, were quite enough for Mar-joviality they inspired within him, and the merriment they‘The best on it is,’ said Mark, ‘that when they do happen to tin. Although he might sometimes profess to make light ofmake a decent stroke; such as better workmen, with no such his partner’s inexhaustible cheerfulness, and might sometimes,opportunities, make every day of their lives and think nothingof—they begin to sing out so surprising loud. Take notice commentator, he was always sensible of the effect of his ex-as in the case of Zephaniah Scadder, find him too jocose aof my words, sir. If ever the defaulting part of this here countrypays its debts—along of finding that not paying ‘em won’t he were in the humour to profit by it, mattered not a jot. Itample in rousing him to hopefulness and courage. Whetherdo in a commercial point of view, you see, and is inconvenientin its consequences—they’ll take such a shine out of it, At first they parted with some of their passengers once orwas contagious, and he could not choose but be affected.and make such bragging speeches, that a man might suppose twice a day, and took in others to replace them. But by degrees,the towns upon their route became more thinly scat-no borrowed money had ever been paid afore, since the worldwas first begun. That’s the way they gammon each other, sir. tered; and for many hours together they would see no otherBless you, I know ‘em. Take notice of my words, now!’ habitations than the huts of the wood-cutters, where the vesselstopped for fuel. Sky, wood, and water all the livelong‘You seem to be growing profoundly sagacious!’ cried Martin,laughing.day; and heat that blistered everything it touched.‘Whether that is,’ thought Mark, ‘because I’m a day’s journeynearer Eden, and am brightening up afore I die, I can’t the banks grew thick and close; and floatad in the stream; andOn they toiled through great solitudes, where the trees uponsay. P’rhaps by the time I get there I shall have growed into a held up shrivelled arms from out the river’s depths; and slidprophet.’down from the margin of the land, half growing, half decay-377

Martin Chuzzlewiting, in the miry water. On through the weary day and melancholynight; beneath the burning sun, and in the mist and Gracchi.‘Where should I go on to?’ cried the mother of the modernvapour of the evening; on, until return appeared impossible, ‘To New Thermopylae.’and restoration to their home a miserable dream.‘My! ain’t I there?’ said Mrs Hominy.They had now but few people on board, and these few Martin looked for it all round the darkening panorama;were as flat, as dull, and stagnant, as the vegetation that oppressedtheir eyes. No sound of cheerfulness or hope was heard; ‘Why that’s it!’ cried Mrs Hominy, pointing to the shedsbut he couldn’t see it, and was obliged to say so.no pleasant talk beguiled the tardy time; no little group made just mentioned.common cause against the full depression of the scene. But ‘That!’ exclaimed Martin.that, at certain periods, they swallowed food together from a ‘Ah! that; and work it which way you will, it whips Eden,’common trough, it might have been old Charon’s boat, conveyingmelancholy shades to judgment.The married Miss Hominy, who had come on board withsaid Mrs Hominy, nodding her head with great expression.At length they drew near New Thermopylae; where, that her husband, gave to this statement her most unqualified support,as did that gentleman also. Martin gratefully declinedsame evening, Mrs Hominy would disembark. A gleam ofcomfort sunk into Martin’s bosom when she told him this. their invitation to regale himself at their house during the halfMark needed none; but he was not displeased.hour of the vessel’s stay; and having escorted Mrs Hominy andIt was almost night when they came alongside the landingplace.A steep bank with an hotel like a barn on the top of it; safely across the gangway, returned in a thoughtful mood tothe red pocket-handkerchief (which was still on active service)a wooden store or two; and a few scattered sheds.watch the emigrants as they removed their goods ashore.‘You sleep here to-night, and go on in the morning, I suppose,ma’am?’ said Martin.to time; anxious to discover what effect this dialogue hadMark, as he stood beside him, glanced in his face from timehad378

Charles Dickensupon him, and not unwilling that his hopes should be dashed ‘Why, you know, sir,’ said Mark, as gently as he could bybefore they reached their destination, so that the blow he feared any means insinuate the observation, ‘we must guard againstmight be broken in its fall. But saving that he sometimes being too sanguine. There’s no occasion for it, either, becauselooked up quickly at the poor erections on the hill, he gave we’re determined to make the best of everything, after wehim no clue to what was passing in his mind, until they were know the worst of it. Ain’t we, sir?’again upon their way.Martin looked at him, but answered not a word.‘Mark,’ he said then, ‘are there really none but ourselves on ‘Even Eden, you know, ain’t all built,’ said Mark.board this boat who are bound for Eden?’‘In the name of Heaven, man,’ cried Martin angrily, ‘don’t‘None at all, sir. Most of ‘em, as you know, have stopped talk of Eden in the same breath with that place. Are you mad?short; and the few that are left are going further on. What There—God forgive me!—don’t think harshly of me for mymatters that! More room there for us, sir.’temper!’‘Oh, to be sure!’ said Martin. ‘But I was thinking—’ and After that, he turned away, and walked to and fro upon thethere he paused.deck full two hours. Nor did he speak again, except to say‘Yes, sir?’ observed Mark.‘Good night,’ until next day; nor even then upon this subject,but on other topics quite foreign to the purpose.‘How odd it was that the people should have arranged totry their fortune at a wretched hole like that, for instance, As they proceeded further on their track, and came morewhen there is such a much better, and such a very different and more towards their journey’s end, the monotonous desolationof the scene increased to that degree, that for any re-kind of place, near at hand, as one may say.’He spoke in a tone so very different from his usual confidence,and with such an obvious dread of Mark’s reply, that entered, in the body, on the grim domains of Giant Despair.deeming feature it presented to their eyes, they might havethe good-natured fellow was full of pity.A flat morass, bestrewn with fallen timber; a marsh on which379

Martin Chuzzlewitthe good growth of the earth seemed to have been wrecked The man advanced toward them through the thickening gloom,and cast away, that from its decomposing ashes vile and ugly very slowly; leaning on a stick. As he drew nearer, they observedthings might rise; where the very trees took the aspect of huge that he was pale and worn, and that his anxious eyes were deeplyweeds, begotten of the slime from which they sprung, by the sunken in his head. His dress of homespun blue hung about himhot sun that burnt them up; where fatal maladies, seeking in rags; his feet and head were bare. He sat down on a stumpwhom they might infect, came forth at night in misty shapes, half-way, and beckoned them to come to him. When they complied,he put his hand upon his side as if in pain, and while heand creeping out upon the water, hunted them like spectresuntil day; where even the blessed sun, shining down on festeringelements of corruption and disease, became a horror; ‘Strangers!’ he exclaimed, as soon as he could speak.fetched his breath stared at them, wondering.this was the realm of Hope through which they moved. ‘The very same,’ said Mark. ‘How are you, sir?’At last they stopped. At Eden too. The waters of the Delugemight have left it but a week before; so choked with stood upright these many weeks. Those are your notions I‘I’ve had the fever very bad,’ he answered faintly. ‘I haven’tslime and matted growth was the hideous swamp which bore see,’ pointing to their property.that name.‘Yes, sir,’ said Mark, ‘they are. You couldn’t recommend usThere being no depth of water close in shore, they landed some one as would lend a hand to help carry ‘em up to the—from the vessel’s boat, with all their goods beside them. There to the town, could you, sir?’were a few log-houses visible among the dark trees; the best, a ‘My eldest son would do it if he could,’ replied the man;cow-shed or a rude stable; but for the wharves, the marketplace,the public buildings—in the blankets. My youngest died last week.’‘but today he has his chill upon him, and is lying wrapped up‘Here comes an Edener,’ said Mark. ‘He’ll get us help to ‘I’m sorry for it, governor, with all my heart,’ said Mark,carry these things up. Keep a good heart, sir. Hallo there!’ shaking him by the hand. ‘Don’t mind us. Come along with380

Charles Dickensme, and I’ll give you an arm back. The goods is safe enough, constructed of the trunks of trees; the door of which hadsir’—to Martin—’there ain’t many people about, to make either fallen down or been carried away long ago; and whichaway with ‘em. What a comfort that is!’was consequently open to the wild landscape and the dark‘No,’ cried the man. ‘You must look for such folk here,’ night. Saving for the little store he had mentioned, it wasknocking his stick upon the ground, ‘or yonder in the bush, perfectly bare of all furniture; but they had left a chest upontowards the north. We’ve buried most of ‘em. The rest have the landing-place, and he gave them a rude torch in lieu ofgone away. Them that we have here, don’t come out at night.’ candle. This latter acquisition Mark planted in the earth, and‘The night air ain’t quite wholesome, I suppose?’ said Mark. then declaring that the mansion ‘looked quite comfortable,’‘It’s deadly poison,’ was the settler’s answer.hurried Martin off again to help bring up the chest. And allMark showed no more uneasiness than if it had been commendedto him as ambrosia; but he gave the man his arm, santly; as if he would infuse into his partner’s breast somethe way to the landing-place and back, Mark talked inces-and as they went along explained to him the nature of their faint belief that they had arrived under the most auspiciouspurchase, and inquired where it lay. Close to his own loghouse,he said; so close that he had used their dwelling as a But many a man who would have stood within a homeand cheerful of all imaginable circumstances.store-house for some corn; they must excuse it that night, dismantled, strong in his passion and design of vengeance,but he would endeavour to get it taken out upon the morrow.He then gave them to understand, as an additional scrap an air-built castle. When the log-hut received them for thehas had the firmness of his nature conquered by the razing ofof local chit-chat, that he had buried the last proprietor with second time, Martin laid down upon the ground, and wepthis own hands; a piece of information which Mark also receivedwithout the least abatement of his equanimity. ‘Lord love you, sir!’ cried Mr Tapley, in great terror; ‘Don’taloud.In a word, he conducted them to a miserable cabin, rudely do that! Don’t do that, sir! Anything but that! It never helped381

Martin Chuzzlewitman, woman, or child, over the lowest fence yet, sir, and it my noble father was chairman of the Board of Directors. Now,never will. Besides its being of no use to you, it’s worse than when I’ve got some water from the stream afore the door andof no use to me, for the least sound of it will knock me flat mixed the grog,’ cried Mark, running out to suit the actiondown. I can’t stand up agin it, sir. Anything but that!’ to the word, ‘there’s a supper ready, comprising every delicacyThere is no doubt he spoke the truth, for the extraordinary of the season. Here we are, sir, all complete. For what we arealarm with which he looked at Martin as he paused upon his going to receive, et cetrer. Lord bless you, sir, it’s very like aknees before the chest, in the act of unlocking it, to say these gipsy party!’words, sufficiently confirmed him.It was impossible not to take heart, in the company of such‘I ask your forgiveness a thousand times, my dear fellow,’ a man as this. Martin sat upon the ground beside the box;said Martin. ‘I couldn’t have helped it, if death had been the took out his knife; and ate and drank sturdily.penalty.’‘Now you see,’ said Mark, when they had made a hearty‘Ask my forgiveness!’ said Mark, with his accustomed cheerfulness,as he proceeded to unpack the chest. ‘The head part-afore the door. Or where, in a state of high civilization, themeal; ‘with your knife and mine, I sticks this blanket rightner a-asking forgiveness of Co., eh? There must be something door would be. And very neat it looks. Then I stops the aperturebelow, by putting the chest agin it. And very neat thatwrong in the firm when that happens. I must have the booksinspected and the accounts gone over immediate. Here we looks. Then there’s your blanket, sir. Then here’s mine. Andare. Everything in its proper place. Here’s the salt pork. Here’s what’s to hinder our passing a good night?’the biscuit. Here’s the whiskey. Uncommon good it smells For all his light-hearted speaking, it was long before he slepttoo. Here’s the tin pot. This tin pot’s a small fortun’ in itself! himself. He wrapped his blanket round him, put the axe readyHere’s the blankets. Here’s the axe. Who says we ain’t got a to his hand, and lay across the threshold of the door; toofirst-rate fit out? I feel as if I was a cadet gone out to Indy, and anxious and too watchful to close his eyes. The novelty of382

Charles Dickenstheir dreary situation, the dread of some rapacious animal or Office. It had some feeble props about it, but was settlinghuman enemy, the terrible uncertainty of their means of subsistence,the apprehension of death, the immense distance and Here and there an effort had been made to clear the land,deep down in the mud, past all recovery.the hosts of obstacles between themselves and England, were and something like a field had been marked out, where, amongfruitful sources of disquiet in the deep silence of the night. the stumps and ashes of burnt trees, a scanty crop of IndianThough Martin would have had him think otherwise, Mark corn was growing. In some quarters, a snake or zigzag fencefelt that he was waking also, and a prey to the same reflections.This was almost worse than all, for if he began to brood and the felled logs, half hidden in the soil, lay moulderinghad been begun, but in no instance had it been completed;over their miseries instead of trying to make head against them away. Three or four meagre dogs, wasted and vexed with hunger;some long-legged pigs, wandering away into the woodsthere could be little doubt that such a state of mind wouldpowerfully assist the influence of the pestilent climate. Never in search of food; some children, nearly naked, gazing at himhad the light of day been half so welcome to his eyes, as when from the huts; were all the living things he saw. A fetid vapour,awaking from a fitful doze, Mark saw it shining through the hot and sickening as the breath of an oven, rose up from theblanket in the doorway.earth, and hung on everything around; and as his foot-printsHe stole out gently, for his companion was sleeping now; sunk into the marshy ground, a black ooze started forth toand having refreshed himself by washing in the river, where it blot them out.snowed before the door, took a rough survey of the settlement.There were not above a score of cabins in the whole; think and close that they shouldered one another out of theirTheir own land was mere forest. The trees had grown sohalf of these appeared untenanted; all were rotten and decayed.The most tottering, abject, and forlorn among them tion, languished like cripples. The best were stunted, fromplaces, and the weakest, forced into shapes of strange distor-was called, with great propriety, the Bank, and National Credit the pressure and the want of room; and high about the stems383

Martin Chuzzlewitof all grew long rank grass, dank weeds, and frowsy as the prospect grew more and more dismal, Mark broughtunderwood; not divisible into their separate kinds, but tangled away a door from one of the deserted houses, and fitted it toall together in a heap; a jungle deep and dark, with neither their own habitation; then went back again for a rude benchearth nor water at its roots, but putrid matter, formed of the he had observed, with which he presently returned in triumph;pulpy offal of the two, and of their own corruption. and having put this piece of furniture outside the house, arrangedthe notable tin pot and other such movables upon it,He went down to the landing-place where they had lefttheir goods last night; and there he found some half-dozen that it might represent a dresser or a sideboard. Greatly satisfiedwith this arrangement, he next rolled their cask of flourmen—wan and forlorn to look at, but ready enough to assist—whohelped him to carry them to the log-house. They into the house and set it up on end in one corner, where itshook their heads in speaking of the settlement, and had no served for a side-table. No better dining-table could be requiredthan the chest, which he solemnly devoted to thatcomfort to give him. Those who had the means of goingaway had all deserted it. They who were left had lost their useful service thenceforth. Their blankets, clothes, and thewives, their children, friends, or brothers there, and suffered like, he hung on pegs and nails. And lastly, he brought forth amuch themselves. Most of them were ill then; none were the great placard (which Martin in the exultation of his heart hadmen they had been once. They frankly offered their assistance prepared with his own hands at the National Hotel) bearingand advice, and, leaving him for that time, went sadly off the inscription, Chuzzlewit & Co., Architects and Surveyors,upon their several tasks.which he displayed upon the most conspicuous part of theMartin was by this time stirring; but he had greatly changed, premises, with as much gravity as if the thriving city of Edeneven in one night. He was very pale and languid; he spoke of had a real existence, and they expected to be overwhelmedpains and weakness in his limbs, and complained that his sight with business.was dim, and his voice feeble. Increasing in his own briskness ‘These here tools,’ said Mark, bringing forward Martin’s384

Charles Dickenscase of instruments and sticking the compasses upright in a endeavours to rouse him of no use, Mark stopped in his workstump before the door, ‘shall be set out in the open air to and came towards him.show that we come provided. And now, if any gentleman ‘Don’t give in, sir,’ said Mr Tapley.wants a house built, he’d better give his orders, afore we’re ‘Oh, Mark,’ returned his friend, ‘what have I done in allother ways bespoke.’my life that has deserved this heavy fate?’Considering the intense heat of the weather, this was not a ‘Why, sir,’ returned Mark, ‘for the matter of that, everybodyas is here might say the same thing; many of ‘em withbad morning’s work; but without pausing for a moment,though he was streaming at every pore, Mark vanished into better reason p’raps than you or me. Hold up, sir. Do something.Couldn’t you ease your mind, now, don’t you think,the house again, and presently reappeared with a hatchet; intenton performing some impossibilities with that implement. by making some personal obserwations in a letter to Scadder?’‘Here’s ugly old tree in the way, sir,’ he observed, ‘which’ll ‘No,’ said Martin, shaking his head sorrowfully: ‘I am pastbe all the better down. We can build the oven in the afternoon.There never was such a handy spot for clay as Eden is. ‘But if you’re past that already,’ returned Mark, ‘you mustthat.’That’s convenient, anyhow.’be ill, and ought to be attended to.’But Martin gave him no answer. He had sat the whole time ‘Don’t mind me,’ said Martin. ‘Do the best you can forwith his head upon his hands, gazing at the current as it rolled yourself. You’ll soon have only yourself to consider. And thenswiftly by; thinking, perhaps, how fast it moved towards the God speed you home, and forgive me for bringing you here!open sea, the high road to the home he never would behold I am destined to die in this place. I felt it the instant I set footagain.upon the shore. Sleeping or waking, Mark, I dreamed it allNot even the vigorous strokes which Mark dealt at the tree last night.’awoke him from his mournful meditation. Finding all his ‘I said you must be ill,’ returned Mark, tenderly, ‘and now385

Martin ChuzzlewitI’m sure of it. A touch of fever and ague caught on theseCHAPTER TWENTYrivers,I dare say; but bless you, THAT’S nothing. It’s only aseasoning, and we must all be seasoned, one way or another.FOURThat’s religion that is, you know,’ said Mark.He only sighed and shook his head.REPORTS PROGRESS IN CERTAIN‘Wait half a minute,’ said Mark cheerily, ‘till I run up toHOMELY MATTERSone of our neighbours and ask what’s best to be took, and OF LOVE, HATRED, JEALOUSY, ANDborrow a little of it to give you; and to-morrow you’ll findREVENGEyourself as strong as ever again. I won’t be gone a minute.Don’t give in while I’m away, whatever you do!’‘HALLO, PECKSNIFF!’ cried Mr Jonas from the parlour. ‘Isn’tThrowing down his hatchet, he sped away immediately, somebody a-going to open that precious old door of yours?’but stopped when he had got a little distance, and looked ‘Immediately, Mr Jonas. Immediately.’back; then hurried on again.‘Ecod,’ muttered the orphan, ‘not before it’s time neither.‘Now, Mr Tapley,’ said Mark, giving himself a tremendous Whoever it is, has knocked three times, and each one loudblow in the chest by way of reviver, ‘just you attend to what enough to wake the—’ he had such a repugnance to the ideaI’ve got to say. Things is looking about as bad as they CAN of waking the Dead, that he stopped even then with the wordslook, young man. You’ll not have such another opportunity upon his tongue, and said, instead, ‘the Seven Sleepers.’for showing your jolly disposition, my fine fellow, as long as ‘Immediately, Mr Jonas; immediately,’ repeated Pecksniff.you live. And therefore, Tapley, Now’s your time to come ‘Thomas Pinch’—he couldn’t make up his mind, in his greatout strong; or Never!’agitation, whether to call Tom his dear friend or a villain, sohe shook his fist at him pro tem—’go up to my daughters’386

Charles Dickensroom, and tell them who is here. Say, Silence. Silence! Do pointed to his spade, and shook his head as if he were notyou hear me, sir?cheerful without an effort—’but I do a little bit of Adam‘Directly, sir!” cried Tom, departing, in a state of much still.’amazement, on his errand.He had by this time got them into the best parlour, where‘You’ll—ha, ha, ha!—you’ll excuse me, Mr Jonas, if I close the portrait by Spiller, and the bust by Spoker, were.this door a moment, will you?’ said Pecksniff. ‘This may be a ‘My daughters,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘will be overjoyed. If Iprofessional call. Indeed I am pretty sure it is. Thank you.’ could feel weary upon such a theme, I should have been wornThen Mr Pecksniff, gently warbling a rustic stave, put on his out long ago, my dear sir, by their constant anticipation ofgarden hat, seized a spade, and opened the street door; calmly this happiness and their repeated allusions to our meeting atappearing on the threshold, as if he thought he had, from his Mrs Todgers’s. Their fair young friend, too,’ said Mr Pecksniff,vineyard, heard a modest rap, but was not quite certain. ‘whom they so desire to know and love—indeed to knowSeeing a gentleman and lady before him, he started back in her, is to love—I hope I see her well. I hope in saying, “Welcometo my humble roof!” I find some echo in her own sen-as much confusion as a good man with a crystal consciencemight betray in mere surprise. Recognition came upon him timents. If features are an index to the heart, I have no fears ofthe next moment, and he cried:that. An extremely engaging expression of countenance, Mr‘Mr Chuzzlewit! Can I believe my eyes! My dear sir; my Chuzzlewit, my dear sir—very much so!’good sir! A joyful hour, a happy hour indeed. Pray, my dear ‘Mary,’ said the old man, ‘Mr Pecksniff flatters you. Butsir, walk in. You find me in my garden-dress. You will excuse flattery from him is worth the having. He is not a dealer in it,it, I know. It is an ancient pursuit, gardening. Primitive, my and it comes from his heart. We thought Mr—’dear sir. Or, if I am not mistaken, Adam was the first of our ‘Pinch,’ said Mary.calling. MY Eve, I grieve to say is no more, sir; but’—here he ‘Mr Pinch would have arrived before us, Pecksniff.’387

Martin Chuzzlewit‘He did arrive before you, my dear sir,’ retorted Pecksniff, ‘Pecksniff,’ he said after a pause, rising and taking him asideraising his voice for the edification of Tom upon the stairs, towards the window, ‘I was much shocked on hearing of my‘and was about, I dare say, to tell me of your coming, when I brother’s death. We had been strangers for many years. My onlybegged him first to knock at my daughters’ chamber, and comfort is that he must have lived the happier and better maninquire after Charity, my dear child, who is not so well as I for having associated no hopes or schemes with me. Peace to hiscould wish. No,’ said Mr Pecksniff, answering their looks, ‘I memory! We were play-fellows once; and it would have beenam sorry to say, she is not. It is merely an hysterical affection; better for us both if we had died then.’nothing more, I am not uneasy. Mr Pinch! Thomas!’ exclaimed Finding him in this gentle mood, Mr Pecksniff began to seePecksniff, in his kindest accents. ‘Pray come in. I shall make another way out of his difficulties, besides the casting overboardno stranger of you. Thomas is a friend of mine, of rather of Jonas.long-standing, Mr Chuzzlewit, you must know.’‘That any man, my dear sir, could possibly be the happier‘Thank you, sir,’ said Tom. ‘You introduce me very kindly, for not knowing you,’ he returned, ‘you will excuse my doubting.But that Mr Anthony, in the evening of his life, wasand speak of me in terms of which I am very proud’‘Old Thomas!’ cried his master, pleasantly ‘God bless you!’ happier in the affection of his excellent son—a pattern, myTom reported that the young ladies would appear directly, dear sir, a pattern to all sons —and in the care of a distantand that the best refreshments which the house afforded were relation who, however lowly in his means of serving him,even then in preparation, under their joint superintendence. had no bounds to his inclination; I can inform you.’While he was speaking, the old man looked at him intently, ‘How’s this?’ said the old man. ‘You are not a legatee?’though with less harshness than was common to him; nor did ‘You don’t,’ said Mr Pecksniff, with a melancholy pressurethe mutual embarrassment of Tom and the young lady, to of his hand, ‘quite understand my nature yet, I find. No, sir,whatever cause he attributed it, seem to escape his observation. I am not a legatee. I am proud to say I am not a legatee. I am388

Charles Dickensproud to say that neither of my children is a legatee. And yet, presence. I know it when I see it, do I not? I, who have livedsir, I was with him at his own request. HE understood me within it all these years!’somewhat better, sir. He wrote and said, “I am sick. I am ‘I deny it,’ Mr Pecksniff answered, warmly. ‘I deny it altogether.That bereaved young man is now in this house, sir,sinking. Come to me!” I went to him. I sat beside his bed, sir,and I stood beside his grave. Yes, at the risk of offending even seeking in change of scene the peace of mind he has lost. Shallyou, I did it, sir. Though the avowal should lead to our instantseparation, and to the severing of those tender ties be-undertakers and coffin-makers have been moved by the con-I be backward in doing justice to that young man, when eventween us which have recently been formed, I make it. But I duct he has exhibited; when even mutes have spoken in hisam not a legatee,’ said Mr Pecksniff, smiling dispassionately; praise, and the medical man hasn’t known what to do with‘and I never expected to be a legatee. I knew better!’ himself in the excitement of his feelings! There is a person of‘His son a pattern!’ cried old Martin. ‘How can you tell me the name of Gamp, sir—Mrs Gamp—ask her. She saw Mrthat? My brother had in his wealth the usual doom of wealth, Jonas in a trying time. Ask her, sir. She is respectable, but notand root of misery. He carried his corrupting influence with sentimental, and will state the fact. A line addressed to Mrshim, go where he would; and shed it round him, even on his Gamp, at the BirdShop, Kingsgate Street, High Holborn,hearth. It made of his own child a greedy expectant, who London, will meet with every attention, I have no doubt. Letmeasured every day and hour the lessening distance between her be examined, my good sir. Strike, but hear! Leap, Mrhis father and the grave, and cursed his tardy progress on that Chuzzlewit, but look! Forgive me, my dear sir,’ said Mrdismal road.’Pecksniff, taking both his hands, ‘if I am warm; but I am‘No!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, boldly. ‘Not at all, sir!’ honest, and must state the truth.’‘But I saw that shadow in his house,’ said Martin In proof of the character he gave himself, Mr Pecksniff sufferedtears of honesty to ooze out of his Chuzzlewit, ‘the last time we met, and warned him of itseyes.389

Martin ChuzzlewitThe old man gazed at him for a moment with a look of it, that young man’s bearing, when presented to his father’swonder, repeating to himself, ‘Here now! In this house!’ But brother, was anything but manly or engaging. Perhaps, indeed,so singular a mixture of defiance and obsequiousness,he mastered his surprise, and said, after a pause:‘Let me see him.’of fear and hardihood, of dogged sullenness and an attempt‘In a friendly spirit, I hope?’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Forgive at enraging and propitiation, never was expressed in any oneme, sir but he is in the receipt of my humble hospitality.’ human figure as in that of Jonas, when, having raised his downcasteyes to Martin’s face, he let them fall again, and uneasily‘I said,’ replied the old man, ‘let me see him. If I were disposedto regard him in any other than a friendly spirit, I should closing and unclosing his hands without a moment’s intermission,stood swinging himself from side to side, waiting tohave said keep us apart.’‘Certainly, my dear sir. So you would. You are frankness be addressed.itself, I know. I will break this happiness to him,’ said Mr ‘Nephew,’ said the old man. ‘You have been a dutiful son, IPecksniff, as he left the room, ‘if you will excuse me for a hear.’minute—gently.’‘As dutiful as sons in general, I suppose,’ returned Jonas,He paved the way to the disclosure so very gently, that a looking up and down once more. ‘I don’t brag to have beenquarter of an hour elapsed before he returned with Mr Jonas. any better than other sons; but I haven’t been any worse, IIn the meantime the young ladies had made their appearance, dare say.’and the table had been set out for the refreshment of the ‘A pattern to all sons, I am told,’ said the old man, glancingtravellers.towards Mr Pecksniff.Now, however well Mr Pecksniff, in his morality, had taught ‘Ecod!’ said Jonas, looking up again for a moment, andJonas the lesson of dutiful behaviour to his uncle, and howeverperfectly Jonas, in the cunning of his nature, had learnt brother. It’s the pot and the kettle, if you come toshaking his head, ‘I’ve been as good a son as ever you were athat.’390

Charles Dickens‘You speak bitterly, in the violence of your regret,’ said her, so probed and lanced the rankling disappointment of herMartin, after a pause. ‘Give me your hand.’sister by her capricious airs and thousand little trials of MrJonas did so, and was almost at his ease. ‘Pecksniff,’ he whispered,as they drew their chairs about the table; ‘I gave him as madness, and obliged her to retire from table in a burst ofJonas’s obedience, that she almost goaded her into a fit ofgood as he brought, eh? He had better look at home, before passion, hardly less vehement than that to which she had abandonedherself in the first tumult of her wrath. The constrainthe looks out of window, I think?’Mr Pecksniff only answered by a nudge of the elbow, which imposed upon the family by the presence among them formight either be construed into an indignant remonstrance or the first time of Mary Graham (for by that name old Martina cordial assent; but which, in any case, was an emphatic admonitionto his chosen son-in-law to be silent. He then pro-state of things; gentle and quiet though her manner was. MrChuzzlewit had introduced her) did not at all improve thisceeded to do the honours of the house with his accustomed Pecksniff’s situation was peculiarly trying; for, what with havingconstantly to keep the peace between his daughters; toease and amiability.But not even Mr Pecksniff’s guileless merriment could set maintain a reasonable show of affection and unity in his household;to curb the growing ease and gaiety of Jonas, whichsuch a party at their ease, or reconcile materials so utterly discordantand conflicting as those with which he had to deal. vented itself in sundry insolences towards Mr Pinch, and anThe unspeakable jealously and hatred which that night’s explanationhad sown in Charity’s breast, was not to be so easily being the two dependants); to make no mention at all of hisindefinable coarseness of manner in reference to Mary (theykept down; and more than once it showed itself in such intensity,as seemed to render a full disclosure of all the circum-smooth down, or explain away, some of the ten thousandhaving perpetually to conciliate his rich old relative, and tostances then and there, impossible to be avoided. The beauteousMerry, too, with all the glory of her conquest fresh upon which they were surrounded on that unluckybad appearances and combinations of bad appearances, byevening—what391

Martin Chuzzlewitwith having to do this, and it would be difficult to sum up Tom was in some need of this injunction, for he felt sohow much more, without the least relief or assistance from nervous, and trembled to such a degree, that he found it difficultto hold the lantern. How much more difficult when, atanybody, it may be easily imagined that Mr Pecksniff had inhis enjoyment something more than that usual portion of the old man’s bidding she drew her hand through his—Tomalloy which is mixed up with the best of men’s delights. Perhapshe had never in his life felt such relief as when old Mar-‘And so, Mr Pinch,’ said Martin, on the way, ‘you are veryPinch’s—arm!tin, looking at his watch, announced that it was time to go. comfortably situated here; are you?’‘We have rooms,’ he said, ‘at the Dragon, for the present. I Tom answered, with even more than his usual enthusiasm,have a fancy for the evening walk. The nights are dark just that he was under obligations to Mr Pecksniff which the devotionof a lifetime would but imperfectly repay.now; perhaps Mr Pinch would not object to light us home?’‘My dear sir!’ cried Pecksniff, ‘I shall be delighted. Merry, ‘How long have you known my nephew?’ asked Martin.my child, the lantern.’‘Your nephew, sir?’ faltered Tom.‘The lantern, if you please, my dear,’ said Martin; ‘but I ‘Mr Jonas Chuzzlewit,’ said Mary.couldn’t think of taking your father out of doors to-night; ‘Oh dear, yes,’ cried Tom, greatly relieved, for his mind wasand, to be brief, I won’t.’running upon Martin. ‘Certainly. I never spoke to him beforeto-night, sir!’Mr Pecksniff already had his hat in his hand, but it was soemphatically said that he paused.‘Perhaps half a lifetime will suffice for the acknowledgment‘I take Mr Pinch, or go alone,’ said Martin. ‘Which shall it be?’ of his kindness,’ observed the old man.‘It shall be Thomas, sir,’ cried Pecksniff, ‘since you are so Tom felt that this was a rebuff for him, and could not butresolute upon it. Thomas, my friend, be very careful, if you understand it as a left-handed hit at his employer. So he wasplease.’silent. Mary felt that Mr Pinch was not remarkable for pres-392

Charles Dickensence of mind, and that he could not say too little under existingcircumstances. So she was silent. The old man, disgusted past him and went on before. Coming to the stile he stopped,made very dark by a plantation of young firs, a man slippedby what in his suspicious nature he considered a shameless and took his seat upon it. Tom was rather startled, and for aand fulsome puff of Mr Pecksniff, which was a part of Tom’s moment stood still, but he stepped forward again immediately,and went close up to him.hired service and in which he was determined to persevere, sethim down at once for a deceitful, servile, miserable fawner. It was Jonas; swinging his legs to and fro, sucking the headSo he was silent. And though they were all sufficiently uncomfortable,it is fair to say that Martin was perhaps the most ‘Good gracious me!’ cried Tom, ‘who would have thoughtof a stick, and looking with a sneer at Tom.so; for he had felt kindly towards Tom at first, and had been of its being you! You followed us, then?’interested by his seeming simplicity.‘What’s that to you?’ said Jonas. ‘Go to the devil!’‘You’re like the rest,’ he thought, glancing at the face of the ‘You are not very civil, I think,’ remarked Tom.unconscious Tom. ‘You had nearly imposed upon me, but you ‘Civil enough for you,’ retorted Jonas. ‘Who are you?’have lost your labour. You are too zealous a toad-eater, and betray ‘One who has as good a right to common consideration asyourself, Mr Pinch.’another,’ said Tom mildly.During the whole remainder of the walk, not another word ‘You’re a liar,’ said Jonas. ‘You haven’t a right to any consideration.You haven’t a right to anything. You’re a pretty sort ofwas spoken. First among the meetings to which Tom hadlong looked forward with a beating heart, it was memorable fellow to talk about your rights, upon my soul! Ha, ha!—for nothing but embarrassment and confusion. They parted Rights, too!’at the Dragon door; and sighing as he extinguished the candle ‘If you proceed in this way,’ returned Tom, reddening, ‘youin the lantern, Tom turned back again over the gloomy fields. will oblige me to talk about my wrongs. But I hope yourAs he approached the first stile, which was in a lonely part, joke is over.’393

Martin Chuzzlewit‘It’s the way with you curs,’ said Mr Jonas, ‘that when you derstand? Eh? Damme, who are you,’ cried Jonas, with increasedcontempt, ‘that you should walk home with them,know a man’s in real earnest, you pretend to think he’s joking,so that you may turn it off. But that won’t do with me. unless it was behind ‘em, like any other servant out of livery?’It’s too stale. Now just attend to me for a bit, Mr Pitch, or ‘Come!’ cried Tom, ‘I see that you had better get off theWitch, or Stitch, or whatever your name is.’stile, and let me pursue my way home. Make room for me, if‘My name is Pinch,’ observed Tom. ‘Have the goodness to you please.’call me by it.’‘Don’t think it!’ said Jonas, spreading out his legs. ‘Not till‘What! You mustn’t even be called out of your name, mustn’t I choose. And I don’t choose now. What! You’re afraid of myyou!’ cried Jonas. ‘Pauper’ prentices are looking up, I think. making you split upon some of your babbling just now, areEcod, we manage ‘em a little better in the city!’you, Sneak?’‘Never mind what you do in the city,’ said Tom. ‘What ‘I am not afraid of many things, I hope,’ said Tom; ‘andhave you got to say to me?’certainly not of anything that you will do. I am not a talebearer,and I despise all meanness. You quite mistake me. Ah!’‘Just this, Mister Pinch,’ retorted Jonas, thrusting his faceso close to Tom’s that Tom was obliged to retreat a step. ‘I cried Tom, indignantly. ‘Is this manly from one in your positionto one in mine? Please to make room for me to pass.advise you to keep your own counsel, and to avoid title-tattle,and not to cut in where you’re not wanted. I’ve heard somethingof you, my friend, and your meek ways; and I recom-‘The less you say!’ retorted Jonas, dangling his legs the more,The less I say, the better.’mend you to forget ‘em till I am married to one of Pecksniff’s and taking no heed of this request. ‘You say very little, don’tgals, and not to curry favour among my relations, but to leave you? Ecod, I should like to know what goes on between youthe course clear. You know, when curs won’t leave the course and a vagabond member of my family. There’s very little inclear, they’re whipped off; so this is kind advice. Do you un-that too, I dare say!’394

Charles Dickens‘I know no vagabond member of your family,’ cried Tom, ‘Are you hurt?’ said Tom. ‘I am very sorry. Lean on me forstoutly,a moment. You can do that without forgiving me, if you still‘You do!’ said Jonas.bear me malice. But I don’t know why; for I never offended‘I don’t,’ said Tom. ‘Your uncle’s namesake, if you mean you before we met on this spot.’him, is no vagabond. Any comparison between you and He made him no answer; not appearing at first to understandhim, or even to know that he was hurt, though he sev-him’—Tom snapped his fingers at him, for he was rising fastin wrath—’is immeasurably to your disadvantage.’eral times took his handkerchief from the cut to look vacantlyat the blood upon it. After one of these examinations,‘Oh indeed!’ sneered Jonas. ‘And what do you think of hisdeary—his beggarly leavings, eh, Mister Pinch?’he looked at Tom, and then there was an expression in his‘I don’t mean to say another word, or stay here another features, which showed that he understood what had takeninstant,’ replied Tom.place, and would remember it.‘As I told you before, you’re a liar,’ said Jonas, coolly. ‘You’ll stay Nothing more passed between them as they went home.here till I give you leave to go. Now, keep where you are, will you?’ Jonas kept a little in advance, and Tom Pinch sadly followed,He flourished his stick over Tom’s head; but in a moment thinking of the grief which the knowledge of this quarrel mustit was spinning harmlessly in the air, and Jonas himself lay occasion his excellent benefactor. When Jonas knocked at thesprawling in the ditch. In the momentary struggle for the door, Tom’s heart beat high; higher when Miss Mercy answeredstick, Tom had brought it into violent contact with his it, and seeing her wounded lover, shireked aloud; higher, whenopponent’s forehead; and the blood welled out profusely from he followed them into the family parlour; higher than at anya deep cut on the temple. Tom was first apprised of this by other time, when Jonas spoke.seeing that he pressed his handkerchief to the wounded part, ‘Don’t make a noise about it,’ he said. ‘It’s nothing worthand staggered as he rose, being stunned.mentioning. I didn’t know the road; the night’s very dark;395

Martin Chuzzlewitand just as I came up with Mr Pinch’—he turned his face Pinch, as he sat mournfully on his bedstead, ruminating, heardtowards Tom, but not his eyes—’I ran against a tree. It’s only a gentle tap at his door; and opening it, saw her, to his greatskin deep.’astonishment, standing before him with her finger on her lip.‘Cold water, Merry, my child!’ cried Mr Pecksniff. ‘Brown ‘Mr Pinch,’ she whispered. ‘Dear Mr Pinch! Tell me thepaper! Scissors! A piece of old linen! Charity, my dear, make a truth! You did that? There was some quarrel between you,bandage. Bless me, Mr Jonas!’and you struck him? I am sure of it!’‘Oh, bother your nonsense,’ returned the gracious son-inlawelect. ‘Be of some use if you can. If you can’t, get out!’ all the many years they had passed together. He was stupefiedIt was the first time she had ever spoken kindly to Tom, inMiss Charity, though called upon to lend her aid, sat upright with amazement.in one corner, with a smile upon her face, and didn’t move a ‘Was it so, or not?’ she eagerly demanded.finger. Though Mercy laved the wound herself; and Mr ‘I was very much provoked,’ said Tom.Pecksniff held the patient’s head between his two hands, as if ‘Then it was?’ cried Charity, with sparkling eyes.without that assistance it must inevitably come in half; and ‘Ye-yes. We had a struggle for the path,’ said Tom. ‘But ITom Pinch, in his guilty agitation, shook a bottle of Dutch didn’t mean to hurt him so much.’Drops until they were nothing but English Froth, and in his ‘Not so much!’ she repeated, clenching her hand and stampingher foot, to Tom’s great wonder. ‘Don’t say that. It wasother hand sustained a formidable carving-knife, really intendedto reduce the swelling, but apparently designed for the ruthless brave of you. I honour you for it. If you should ever quarrelinfliction of another wound as soon as that was dressed; Charityrendered not the least assistance, nor uttered a word. But set your shoe upon him. Not a word of this to anybody. Dearagain, don’t spare him for the world, but beat him down andwhen Mr Jonas’s head was bound up, and he had gone to bed, Mr Pinch, I am your friend from tonight. I am always yourand everybody else had retired, and the house was quiet, Mr friend from this time.’396

Charles DickensShe turned her flushed face upon Tom to confirm her words many former occasions on which he had given Mr Pecksniffby its kindling expression; and seizing his right hand, pressed pain and anxiety (occasions of which that gentleman oftenit to her breast, and kissed it. And there was nothing personal reminded him), he really began to regard himself as destinedin this to render it at all embarrassing, for even Tom, whose by a mysterious fate to be the evil genius and bad angel of hispower of observation was by no means remarkable, knew patron. But he fell asleep at last, and dreamed—new sourcefrom the energy with which she did it that she would have of waking uneasiness—that he had betrayed his trust, and runfondled any hand, no matter how bedaubed or dyed, that away with Mary Graham.had broken the head of Jonas Chuzzlewit.It must be acknowledged that, asleep or awake, Tom’s positionin reference to this young lady was full of uneasiness.Tom went into his room, and went to bed, full of uncomfortablethoughts. That there should be any such tremendous The more he saw of her, the more he admired her beauty, herdivision in the family as he knew must have taken place to intelligence, the amiable qualities that even won on the dividedhouse of Pecksniff, and in a few days restored, at allconvert Charity Pecksniff into his friend, for any reason, but,above all, for that which was clearly the real one; that Jonas, events, the semblance of harmony and kindness between thewho had assailed him with such exceeding coarseness, should angry sisters. When she spoke, Tom held his breath, so eagerlyhe listened; when she sang, he sat like one entranced.have been sufficiently magnanimous to keep the secret of theirquarrel; and that any train of circumstances should have led She touched his organ, and from that bright epoch even it,to the commission of an assault and battery by Thomas Pinch the old companion of his happiest hours, incapable as he hadupon any man calling himself the friend of Seth Pecksniff; thought of elevation, began a new and deified existence.were matters of such deep and painful cogitation that he could God’s love upon thy patience, Tom! Who, that had beheldnot close his eyes. His own violence, in particular, so preyed thee, for three summer weeks, poring through half theupon the generous mind of Tom, that coupling it with the deadlong night over the jingling anatomy of that inscrutable397

Martin Chuzzlewitold harpsichord in the back parlour, could have missed the the church; in her favourite walks; in the village, in the garden,in the meadows; and in any or all of these places heentrance to thy secret heart: albeit it was dimly known tothee? Who that had seen the glow upon thy cheek when leaningdown to listen, after hours of labour, for the sound of one fully avoided him, or never came in his way unaccompanied.might have spoken freely. But no; at all such times she care-incorrigible note, thou foundest that it had a voice at last, and It could not be that she disliked or distrusted him, for by awheezed out a flat something, distantly akin to what it ought thousand little delicate means, too slight for any notice butto be, would not have known that it was destined for no his own, she singled him out when others were present, andcommon touch, but one that smote, though gently as an showed herself the very soul of kindness. Could it be that sheangel’s hand, upon the deepest chord within thee! And if a had broken with Martin, or had never returned his affection,friendly glance—aye, even though it were as guileless as thine save in his own bold and heightened fancy? Tom’s cheek grewown, Dear Tom—could have but pierced the twilight of that red with self-reproach as he dismissed the thought.evening, when, in a voice well tempered to the time, sad, All this time old Martin came and went in his own strangesweet, and low, yet hopeful, she first sang to the altered instrument,and wondered at the change; and thou, sitting apart holding little intercourse with any one. Although he was un-manner, or sat among the rest absorbed within himself, andat the open window, kept a glad silence and a swelling heart— social, he was not willful in other things, or troublesome, ormust not that glance have read perforce the dawning of a morose; being never better pleased than when they left himstory, Tom, that it were well for thee had never been begun! quite unnoticed at his book, and pursued their own amusementsin his presence, unreserved. It was impossible to dis-Tom Pinch’s situation was not made the less dangerous ordifficult by the fact of no one word passing between them in cern in whom he took an interest, or whether he had an interestin any of them. Unless they spoke to him directly, hereference to Martin. Honourably mindful of his promise, Tomgave her opportunities of all kinds. Early and late he was in never showed that he had ears or eyes for anything that passed.398

Charles DickensOne day the lively Merry, sitting with downcast eyes under She threw the grass about, and looked another way, but saida shady tree in the churchyard, whither she had retired after nothing.fatiguing herself by the imposition of sundry trials on the Martin repeated his question.temper of Mr Jonas, felt that a new shadow came between ‘Lor, my dear Mr Chuzzlewit! really you must excuse me!her and the sun. Raising her eyes in the expectation of seeing How very odd you are.’her betrothed, she was not a little surprised to see old Martin ‘If it be odd in me to desire to know whether you love theinstead. Her surprise was not diminished when he took his young man whom I understand you are to marry, I AM veryseat upon the turf beside her, and opened a conversation thus: odd,’ said Martin. ‘For that is certainly my wish.’‘When are you to be married?’‘He’s such a monster, you know,’ said Merry, pouting.‘Oh! dear Mr Chuzzlewit, my goodness me! I’m sure I don’t ‘Then you don’t love him?’ returned the old man. ‘Is thatknow. Not yet awhile, I hope.’your meaning?’‘You hope?’ said the old man.‘Why, my dear Mr Chuzzlewit, I’m sure I tell him a hundredIt was very gravely said, but she took it for banter, and giggled times a day that I hate him. You must have heard me tell him that.’excessively.‘Often,’ said Martin.‘Come!’ said the old man, with unusual kindness, ‘you are ‘And so I do,’ cried Merry. ‘I do positively.’young, good-looking, and I think good-natured! Frivolous ‘Being at the same time engaged to marry him,’ observedyou are, and love to be, undoubtedly; but you must have the old man.some heart.’‘Oh yes,’ said Merry. ‘But I told the wretch—my dear Mr‘I have not given it all away, I can tell you,’ said Merry, Chuzzlewit, I told him when he asked me—that if I ever didnodding her head shrewdly, and plucking up the grass. marry him, it should only be that I might hate and tease him‘Have you parted with any of it?’all my life.’399

Martin ChuzzlewitShe had a suspicion that the old man regarded Jonas with ‘Oh, good gracious! My dear Mr Chuzzlewit, it would beanything but favour, and intended these remarks to be extremelycaptivating. He did not appear, however, to regard for other people’s vanity,’ said Merry. ‘And poor dear Cherryvery hard to make him, though he is a monster, accountablethem in that light by any means; for when he spoke again, it is the vainest darling!’was in a tone of severity.‘It was her mistake, then?’‘Look about you,’ he said, pointing to the graves; ‘and rememberthat from your bridal hour to the day which sees been so dreadfully jealous, and so cross, that, upon my word and‘I hope it was,’ cried Merry; ‘but, all along, the dear child hasyou brought as low as these, and laid in such a bed, there will honour, it’s impossible to please her, and it’s of no use trying.’be no appeal against him. Think, and speak, and act, for once, ‘Not forced, persuaded, or controlled,’ said Martin,like an accountable creature. Is any control put upon your thoughtfully. ‘And that’s true, I see. There is one chance yet.inclinations? Are you forced into this match? Are you insidiouslyadvised or tempted to contract it, by any one? I will not It may have been the wanton act of a light head. Is that so?’You may have lapsed into this engagement in very giddiness.ask by whom; by any one?’‘My dear Mr Chuzzlewit,’ simpered Merry, ‘as to lightheadedness,there never was such a feather of a head as mine.‘No,’ said Merry, shrugging her shoulders. ‘I don’t know thatI am.’It’s perfect balloon, I declare! You never did, you know!’‘Don’t know that you are! Are you?’He waited quietly till she had finished, and then said, steadily‘No,’ replied Merry. ‘Nobody ever said anything to me about and slowly, and in a softened voice, as if he would still inviteit. If any one had tried to make me have him, I wouldn’t have her confidence:had him at all.’‘Have you any wish—or is there anything within your breast‘I am told that he was at first supposed to be your sister’s that whispers you may form the wish, if you have time toadmirer,’ said Martin.think—to be released from this engagement?’400

Charles DickensAgain Miss Merry pouted, and looked down, and plucked And then, without waiting for his nephew, he passed out atthe grass, and shrugged her shoulders. No. She didn’t know another gate, and went away.that she had. She was pretty sure she hadn’t. Quite sure, she ‘Oh, you terrible old man!’ cried the facetious Merry tomight say. She ‘didn’t mind it.’herself. ‘What a perfectly hideous monster to be wandering‘Has it ever occurred to you,’ said Martin, ‘that your marriedlife may perhaps be miserable, full of bitterness, and most out of their wits! Don’t come here, Griffin, or I’ll go awayabout churchyards in the broad daylight, frightening peopleunhappy?’directly.’Merry looked down again; and now she tore the grass up Mr Jonas was the Griffin. He sat down upon the grass atby the roots.her side, in spite of this warning, and sulkily inquired:‘My dear Mr Chuzzlewit, what shocking words! Of course, ‘What’s my uncle been a-talking about?’I shall quarrel with him. I should quarrel with any husband. ‘About you,’ rejoined Merry. ‘He says you’re not half goodMarried people always quarrel, I believe. But as to being miserable,and bitter, and all those dreadful things, you know, ‘Oh, yes, I dare say! We all know that. He means to giveenough for me.’why I couldn’t be absolutely that, unless he always had the you some present worth having, I hope. Did he say anythingbest of it; and I mean to have the best of it myself. I always do that looked like it?’now,’ cried Merry, nodding her head and giggling very much; ‘that he didn’t!’ cried Merry, most decisively.‘for I make a perfect slave of the creature.’‘A stingy old dog he is,’ said Jonas. ‘Well?’‘Let it go on,’ said Martin, rising. ‘Let it go on! I sought to ‘Griffin!’ cried Miss Mercy, in counterfeit amazement; ‘whatknow your mind, my dear, and you have shown it me. I wish are you doing, Griffin?’you joy. Joy!’ he repeated, looking full upon her, and pointingto the wicket-gate where Jonas entered at the moment. ‘There’s no harm in that, I‘Only giving you a squeeze,’ said the discomfited Jonas.suppose?’401

Martin Chuzzlewit‘But there is great deal of harm in it, if I don’t consider it ‘Upon my soul, if you like,’ said Jonas. ‘What do you sayagreeable,’ returned his cousin. ‘Do go along, will you? You to next week, now?’make me so hot!’‘To next week! If you had said next quarter, I should haveMr Jonas withdrew his arm, and for a moment looked at wondered at your impudence.’her more like a murderer than a lover. But he cleared his brow ‘But I didn’t say next quarter,’ retorted Jonas. ‘I said nextby degrees, and broke silence with:week.’‘I say, Mel!’‘Then, Griffin,’ cried Miss Merry, pushing him off, and‘What do you say, you vulgar thing—you low savage?’ cried rising. ‘I say no! not next week. It shan’t be till I choose, andhis fair betrothed.I may not choose it to be for months. There!’‘When is it to be? I can’t afford to go on dawdling about He glanced up at her from the ground, almost as darkly ashere half my life, I needn’t tell you, and Pecksniff says that he had looked at Tom Pinch; but held his peace.father’s being so lately dead makes very little odds; for we ‘No fright of a Griffin with a patch over his eye shall dictateto me or have a voice in the matter,’ said Merry. ‘There!’can be married as quiet as we please down here, and mybeing lonely is a good reason to the neighbours for taking a Still Mr Jonas held his peace.wife home so soon, especially one that he knew. As to ‘If it’s next month, that shall be the very earliest; but I won’tcrossbones (my uncle, I mean), he’s sure not to put a spoke say when it shall be till to-morrow; and if you don’t like that,in the wheel, whatever we settle on, for he told Pecksniff it shall never be at all,’ said Merry; ‘and if you follow meonly this morning, that if you liked it he’d nothing at all to about and won’t leave me alone, it shall never be at all. There!vsay. So, Mel,’ said Jonas, venturing on another squeeze; ‘when And if you don’t do everything I order you to do, it shallshall it be?’never be at all. So don’t follow me. There, Griffin!’‘Upon my word!’ cried Merry.And with that, she skipped away, among the trees.402

Charles Dickens‘Ecod, my lady!’ said Jonas, looking after her, and biting aCHAPTER TWENTYpieceof straw, almost to powder; ‘you’ll catch it for this, whenyou are married. It’s all very well now—it keeps one on, somehow,and you know it—but I’ll pay you off scot and lot by-FIVEand-bye. This is a plaguey dull sort of a place for a man to be IS IN PART PROFESSIONAL, AND FURsittingby himself in. I never could abide a mouldy old churchyard.’ABLE HINTS IN RELATION TO THE MAN-NISHES THE READER WITH SOME VALU-As he turned into the avenue himself, Miss Merry, who was AGEMENT OF A SICK CHAMBERfar ahead, happened to look back.‘Ah!’ said Jonas, with a sullen smile, and a nod that was notMR MOULD WAS surrounded by his household gods. He wasaddressed to her. ‘Make the most of it while it lasts. Get in enjoying the sweets of domestic repose, and gazing on themyour hay while the sun shines. Take your own way as long as with a calm delight. The day being sultry, and the windowit’s in your power, my lady!’open, the legs of Mr Mould were on the window-seat, andhis back reclined against the shutter. Over his shining head ahandkerchief was drawn, to guard his baldness from the flies.The room was fragrant with the smell of punch, a tumbler ofwhich grateful compound stood upon a small round table,convenient to the hand of Mr Mould; so deftly mixed that ashis eye looked down into the cool transparent drink, anothereye, peering brightly from behind the crisp lemon-peel, lookedup at him, and twinkled like a star.403

Martin ChuzzlewitDeep in the City, and within the ward of Cheap, stood Mr depicted as constantly blowing those instruments for ever andMould’s establishment. His Harem, or, in other words, the ever without any lungs, played, it is to be presumed, entirelycommon sitting room of Mrs Mould and family, was at the by ear.back, over the little counting-house behind the shop; abuttingon a churchyard small and shady. In this domestic cham-by, and was a helpmate to him in his punch as in all otherMr Mould looked lovingly at Mrs Mould, who sat hardber Mr Mould now sat; gazing, a placid man, upon his punch things. Each seraph daughter, too, enjoyed her share of hisand home. If, for a moment at a time, he sought a wider regards, and smiled upon him in return. So bountiful wereprospect, whence he might return with freshened zest to these Mr Mould’s possessions, and so large his stock in trade, thatenjoyments, his moist glance wandered like a sunbeam even there, within his household sanctuary, stood a cumbrousthrough a rural screen of scarlet runners, trained on strings press, whose mahogany maw was filled with shrouds, andbefore the window, and he looked down, with an artist’s eye, winding-sheets, and other furniture of funerals. But, thoughupon the graves.the Misses Mould had been brought up, as one may say, beneathhis eye, it had cast no shadow on their timid infancy orThe partner of his life, and daughters twain, were Mr Mould’scompanions. Plump as any partridge was each Miss Mould, blooming youth. Sporting behind the scenes of death andand Mrs M. was plumper than the two together. So round burial from cradlehood, the Misses Mould knew better. Hatbands,to them, were but so many yards of silk or crape; theand chubby were their fair proportions, that they might havebeen the bodies once belonging to the angels’ faces in the final robe but such a quantity of linen. The Misses Mouldshop below, grown up, with other heads attached to make could idealise a player’s habit, or a court-lady’s petticoat, orthem mortal. Even their peachy cheeks were puffed out and even an act of parliament. But they were not to be taken in bydistended, as though they ought of right to be performing on palls. They made them sometimes.celestial trumpets. The bodiless cherubs in the shop, who were The premises of Mr Mould were hard of hearing to the404

Charles Dickensboisterous noises in the great main streets, and nestled in a punch, and handed it to her daughters, who dutifully followedthe example of their mother.quiet corner, where the City strife became a drowsy hum,that sometimes rose and sometimes fell and sometimes altogetherceased; suggesting to a thoughtful mind a stoppage in motion with his legs in his enjoyment of the joke. ‘It’s beech‘Hollow elm tree, eh?’ said Mr Mould, making a slightCheapside. The light came sparkling in among the scarlet runners,as if the churchyard winked at Mr Mould, and said, ‘We soul, that’s one of the best things I know?’ He was so exces-in the song. Elm, eh? Yes, to be sure. Ha, ha, ha! Upon myunderstand each other;’ and from the distant shop a pleasant sively tickled by the jest that he couldn’t forget it, but repeatedtwenty times, ‘Elm, eh? Yes, to be sure. Elm, of course.sound arose of coffin-making with a low melodious hammer,rat, tat, tat, tat, alike promoting slumber and digestion. Ha, ha, ha! Upon my life, you know, that ought to be sent to‘Quite the buzz of insects,’ said Mr Mould, closing his eyes somebody who could make use of it. It’s one of the smartestin a perfect luxury. ‘It puts one in mind of the sound of animatednature in the agricultural districts. It’s exactly like the Very hollow. Ha, ha, ha!’things that ever was said. Hollow ELM tree, eh? of course.woodpecker tapping.’Here a knock was heard at the room door.‘The woodpecker tapping the hollow elm tree,’ observed ‘That’s Tacker, I know,’ said Mrs Mould, ‘by the wheezingMrs Mould, adapting the words of the popular melody to he makes. Who that hears him now, would suppose he’d everthe description of wood commonly used in the trade. had wind enough to carry the feathers on his head! Come in,‘Ha, ha!’ laughed Mr Mould. ‘Not at all bad, my dear. We Tacker.’shall be glad to hear from you again, Mrs M. Hollow elm tree, ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am,’ said Tacker, looking in a littleeh! Ha, ha! Very good indeed. I’ve seen worse than that in the way. ‘I thought our Governor was here.’Sunday papers, my love.’‘Well! so he is,’ cried Mould.Mrs Mould, thus encouraged, took a little more of the ‘Oh! I didn’t see you, I’m sure,’ said Tacker, looking in a405

Martin Chuzzlewitlittle farther. ‘You wouldn’t be inclined to take a walking one had hiccoughed, and had previously been to a wine-vaults.of two, with the plain wood and a tin plate, I suppose?’ Mrs Gamp made no response to Mr Mould, but curtseyed‘Certainly not,’ replied Mr Mould, ‘much too common. to Mrs Mould again, and held up her hands and eyes, as in aNothing to say to it.’devout thanksgiving that she looked so well. She was neatly,‘I told ‘em it was precious low,’ observed Mr Tacker. but not gaudily attired, in the weeds she had worn when Mr‘Tell ‘em to go somewhere else. We don’t do that style of Pecksniff had the pleasure of making her acquaintance; andbusiness here,’ said Mr Mould. ‘Like their impudence to proposeit. Who is it?’‘There are some happy creeturs,’ Mrs Gamp observed, ‘aswas perhaps the turning of a scale more snuffy.‘Why,’ returned Tacker, pausing, ‘that’s where it is, you see. time runs back’ards with, and you are one, Mrs Mould; notIt’s the beadle’s son-in-law.’that he need do nothing except use you in his most owldacious‘The beadle’s son-in-law, eh?’ said Mould. ‘Well! I’ll do it if way for years to come, I’m sure; for young you are and willthe beadle follows in his cocked hat; not else. We carry it off be. I says to Mrs Harris,’ Mrs Gamp continued, ‘only t’otherthat way, by looking official, but it’ll be low enough, then. day; the last Monday evening fortnight as ever dawned uponHis cocked hat, mind!’this Piljian’s Projiss of a mortal wale; I says to Mrs Harris‘I’ll take care, sir,’ rejoined Tacker. ‘Oh! Mrs Gamp’s below, when she says to me, “Years and our trials, Mrs Gamp, setsand wants to speak to you.’marks upon us all.”—”Say not the words, Mrs Harris, if you‘Tell Mrs Gamp to come upstairs,’ said Mould. ‘Now Mrs and me is to be continual friends, for sech is not the case. MrsGamp, what’s your news?’Mould,” I says, making so free, I will confess, as use the name,’The lady in question was by this time in the doorway, (she curtseyed here), ‘“is one of them that goes agen thecurtseying to Mrs Mould. At the same moment a peculiar obserwation straight; and never, Mrs Harris, whilst I’ve a dropfragrance was borne upon the breeze, as if a passing fairy of breath to draw, will I set by, and not stand up, don’t think406

Charles Dickensit.”—“I ast your pardon, ma’am,” says Mrs Harris, “and I book to its long home in the iron safe! But that’s all past andhumbly grant your grace; for if ever a woman lived as would over, Mr Mould;’ as she thus got in a carefully regulated routineto that gentleman, she shook her head waggishly; ‘That’ssee her feller creeturs into fits to serve her friends, well do Iknow that woman’s name is Sairey Gamp.”’all past and over now, sir, an’t it?’At this point she was fain to stop for breath; and advantage ‘Changes, Mrs Gamp, changes!’ returned the undertaker.may be taken of the circumstance, to state that a fearful mysterysurrounded this lady of the name of Harris, whom no one sir,’ said Mrs Gamp, nodding yet more waggishly than be-‘More changes too, to come, afore we’ve done with changes,in the circle of Mrs Gamp’s acquaintance had ever seen; neither fore. ‘Young ladies with such faces thinks of something elsedid any human being know her place of residence, though Mrs besides berryins, don’t they, sir?’Gamp appeared on her own showing to be in constant communicationwith her. There were conflicting rumours on the chuckle—’Not bad in Mrs Gamp, my dear?’‘I am sure I don’t know, Mrs Gamp,’ said Mould, with asubject; but the prevalent opinion was that she was a phantom ‘Oh yes, you do know, sir!’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘and so doesof Mrs Gamp’s brain—as Messrs. Doe and Roe are fictions of Mrs Mould, your ‘ansome pardner too, sir; and so do I, althoughthe blessing of a daughter was deniged me; which, ifthe law—created for the express purpose of holding visionarydialogues with her on all manner of subjects, and invariably we had had one, Gamp would certainly have drunk its littlewinding up with a compliment to the excellence of her nature. shoes right off its feet, as with our precious boy he did, and‘And likeways what a pleasure,’ said Mrs Gamp, turning arterward send the child a errand to sell his wooden leg forwith a tearful smile towards the daughters, ‘to see them two any money it would fetch as matches in the rough, and bringyoung ladies as I know’d afore a tooth in their pretty heads it home in liquor; which was truly done beyond his years, forwas cut, and have many a day seen—ah, the sweet creeturs!— ev’ry individgle penny that child lost at toss or buy for kidneyplaying at berryins down in the shop, and follerin’ the order-ones; and come home arterwards quite bold, to break the407

Martin Chuzzlewitnews, and offering to drown himself if sech would be a satisfactionto his parents.—Oh yes, you do know, sir,’ said Mrs until it was placed in her hand by one of the young ladies,insensible to the fact of a glass of rum being in preparation,Gamp, wiping her eye with her shawl, and resuming the thread when she exhibited the greatest surprise.of her discourse. ‘There’s something besides births and berryins ‘A thing,’ she said, ‘as hardly ever, Mrs Mould, occurs within the newspapers, an’t there, Mr Mould?’me unless it is when I am indispoged, and find my half a pintMr Mould winked at Mrs Mould, whom he had by this of porter settling heavy on the chest. Mrs Harris often andtime taken on his knee, and said: ‘No doubt. A good deal often says to me, “Sairey Gamp,” she says, “you raly do amazemore, Mrs Gamp. Upon my life, Mrs Gamp is very far from me!” “Mrs Harris,” I says to her, “why so? Give it a name, Ibad, my dear!’beg.” “Telling the truth then, ma’am,” says Mrs Harris, “and‘There’s marryings, an’t there, sir?’ said Mrs Gamp, while shaming him as shall be nameless betwixt you and me, neverboth the daughters blushed and tittered. ‘Bless their precious did I think till I know’d you, as any woman could sick-nursehearts, and well they knows it! Well you know’d it too, and and monthly likeways, on the little that you takes to drink.”well did Mrs Mould, when you was at their time of life! But “Mrs Harris,” I says to her, “none on us knows what we canmy opinion is, you’re all of one age now. For as to you and do till we tries; and wunst, when me and Gamp kept ‘ouse, IMrs Mould, sir, ever having grandchildren—’thought so too. But now,” I says, “my half a pint of porter‘Oh! Fie, fie! Nonsense, Mrs Gamp,’ replied the undertaker.‘Devilish smart, though. Ca-pi-tal!’—this was in a whis-and draw’d mild. Whether I sicks or monthlies, ma’am, I hopefully satisfies; perwisin’, Mrs Harris, that it is brought reg’lar,per. ‘My dear’—aloud again—’Mrs Gamp can drink a glass I does my duty, but I am but a poor woman, and I earns myof rum, I dare say. Sit down, Mrs Gamp, sit down.’ living hard; therefore I do require it, which I makes confession,to be brought reg’lar and draw’d mild.”’Mrs Gamp took the chair that was nearest the door, andcasting up her eyes towards the ceiling, feigned to be wholly The precise connection between these observations and the408

Charles Dickensglass of rum, did not appear; for Mrs Gamp proposing as a night-watching; consequent she says to them, having reposedtoast ‘The best of lucks to all!’ took off the dram in quite a the greatest friendliness in me for twenty year, “The soberestscientific manner, without any further remarks.person going, and the best of blessings in a sick room, is Mrs‘And what’s your news, Mrs Gamp?’ asked Mould again, as Gamp. Send a boy to Kingsgate Street,” she says, “and snapthat lady wiped her lips upon her shawl, and nibbled a corner her up at any price, for Mrs Gamp is worth her weight andoff a soft biscuit, which she appeared to carry in her pocket as more in goldian guineas.” My landlord brings the messagea provision against contingent drams. ‘How’s Mr Chuffey?’ down to me, and says, “bein’ in a light place where you are,‘Mr Chuffey, sir,’ she replied, ‘is jest as usual; he an’t no and this job promising so well, why not unite the two?” “No,better and he an’t no worse. I take it very kind in the gentlemanto have wrote up to you and said, “let Mrs Gamp take not think it. But I will go to Mr Mould,” I says, “and astsir,” I says, “not unbeknown to Mr Mould, and therefore docare of him till I come home;” but ev’rythink he does is kind. him, if you like.”’ Here she looked sideways at the undertaker,and came to a stop.There an’t a many like him. If there was, we shouldn’t wantno churches.’‘Night-watching, eh?’ said Mould, rubbing his chin.‘What do you want to speak to me about, Mrs Gamp?’ ‘From eight o’clock till eight, sir. I will not deceive you,’said Mould, coming to the point.Mrs Gamp rejoined.‘Jest this, sir,’ Mrs Gamp returned, ‘with thanks to you for ‘And then go back, eh?’ said would.asking. There is a gent, sir, at the Bull in Holborn, as has been ‘Quite free, then, sir, to attend to Mr Chuffey. His waystook ill there, and is bad abed. They have a day nurse as was bein’ quiet, and his hours early, he’d be abed, sir, nearly all therecommended from Bartholomew’s; and well I knows her, time. I will not deny,’ said Mrs Gamp with meekness, ‘that IMr Mould, her name bein’ Mrs Prig, the best of creeturs. But am but a poor woman, and that the money is a object; but doshe is otherways engaged at night, and they are in wants of not let that act upon you, Mr Mould. Rich folks may ride on409

Martin Chuzzlewitcamels, but it an’t so easy for ‘em to see out of a needle’s eye. ‘Wishing ev’ry happiness to this happy family,’ said MrsThat is my comfort, and I hope I knows it.’Gamp ‘with all my heart. Good arternoon, Mrs Mould! If I‘Well, Mrs Gamp,’ observed Mould, ‘I don’t see any particularobjection to your earning an honest penny under such sure, if I was you, I should be jealous of Mr Mould.’was Mr would I should be jealous of you, ma’am; and I’mcircumstances. I should keep it quiet, I think, Mrs Gamp. I ‘Tut, tut! Bah, bah! Go along, Mrs Gamp!’ cried the delightedundertaker.wouldn’t mention it to Mr Chuzzlewit on his return, for instance,unless it were necessary, or he asked you pointblank.’ ‘As to the young ladies,’ said Mrs Gamp, dropping a curtsey,‘bless their sweet looks—how they can ever reconsize it‘The very words was on my lips, sir,’ Mrs Gamp rejoined.‘Suppoging that the gent should die, I hope I might take the with their duties to be so grown up with such young parents,liberty of saying as I know’d some one in the undertaking it an’t for sech as me to give a guess at.’line, and yet give no offence to you, sir?’‘Nonsense, nonsense. Be off, Mrs Gamp!’ cried Mould.‘Certainly, Mrs Gamp,’ said Mould, with much condescension.‘You may casually remark, in such a case, that we do the Mould as he said it.But in the height of his gratification he actually pinched Mrsthing pleasantly and in a great variety of styles, and are generallyconsidered to make it as agreeable as possible to the feel-had at last withdrawn and shut the door, ‘that’s a ve-ry shrewd‘I’ll tell you what, my dear,’ he observed, when Mrs Gampings of the survivors. But don’t obtrude it, don’t obtrude it. woman. That’s a woman whose intellect is immensely superiorto her station in life. That’s a woman who observes andEasy, easy! My dear, you may as well give Mrs Gamp a card ortwo, if you please.’reflects in an uncommon manner. She’s the sort of womanMrs Gamp received them, and scenting no more rum in now,’ said Mould, drawing his silk handkerchief over his headthe wind (for the bottle was locked up again) rose to take her again, and composing himself for a nap ‘one would almostdeparture.feel disposed to bury for nothing; and do it neatly, too!’410

Charles DickensMrs Mould and her daughters fully concurred in these remarks;the subject of which had by this time reached the street, together talking earnestly with a young gentleman who seemedlandlady, and head chambermaid, were all on the thresholdwhere she experienced so much inconvenience from the air, to have just come or to be just going away. The first wordsthat she was obliged to stand under an archway for a short that struck upon Mrs Gamp’s ear obviously bore reference totime, to recover herself. Even after this precaution, she walked the patient; and it being expedient that all good attendantsso unsteadily as to attract the compassionate regards of divers should know as much as possible about the case on whichkind-hearted boys, who took the liveliest interest in her disorder;and in their simple language bade her be of good cheer, of duty.their skill is brought to bear, Mrs Gamp listened as a matterfor she was ‘only a little screwed.’‘No better, then?’ observed the gentleman.Whatever she was, or whatever name the vocabulary of ‘Worse!’ said the landlord.medical science would have bestowed upon her malady, Mrs ‘Much worse,’ added the landlady.Gamp was perfectly acquainted with the way home again; ‘Oh! a deal badder,’ cried the chambermaid from the background,opening her eyes very wide, and shaking her head.and arriving at the house of Anthony Chuzzlewit & Son, laydown to rest. Remaining there until seven o’clock in the ‘Poor fellow!’ said the gentleman, ‘I am sorry to hear it.evening, and then persuading poor old Chuffey to betake himselfto bed, she sallied forth upon her new engagement. First, he has, or where they live, except that it certainly is not inThe worst of it is, that I have no idea what friends or relationsshe went to her private lodgings in Kingsgate Street, for a London.’bundle of robes and wrappings comfortable in the night season;and then repaired to the Bull in Holborn, which she at the landlord; and the chambermaid remarked, hysterically,The landlord looked at the landlady; the landlady lookedreached as the clocks were striking eight.‘that of all the many wague directions she had ever seen orAs she turned into the yard, she stopped; for the landlord, heerd of (and they wasn’t few in an hotel), that was the waguest.’411

Martin Chuzzlewit‘The fact is, you see,’ pursued the gentleman, ‘as I told ‘Yes. It’s sealed up, and in the cash-box. I made a memorandumof the amount, which you’re welcome to see.’you yesterday when you sent to me, I really know verylittle about him. We were school-fellows together; but since ‘Well!’ said John, ‘as the medical gentleman says the feverthat time I have only met him twice. On both occasions I must take its course, and nothing can be done just now beyondgiving him his drinks regularly and having him care-was in London for a boy’s holiday (having come up for aweek or so from Wiltshire), and lost sight of him again fully attended to, nothing more can be said that I know of,directly. The letter bearing my name and address which until he is in a condition to give us some information. Canyou found upon his table, and which led to your applying you suggest anything else?’to me, is in answer, you will observe, to one he wrote from ‘N-no,’ replied the landlord, ‘except—’this house the very day he was taken ill, making an appointmentwith him at his own request. Here is his letter, ‘Why,’ hesitated the landlord, ‘it would be as well.’‘Except, who’s to pay, I suppose?’ said John.if you wish to see it.’‘Quite as well,’ said the landlady.The landlord read it; the landlady looked over him. The ‘Not forgetting to remember the servants,’ said the chambermaidin a bland whisper.chambermaid, in the background, made out as much of it asshe could, and invented the rest; believing it all from that ‘It is but reasonable, I fully admit,’ said John Westlock. ‘Attime forth as a positive piece of evidence.all events, you have the stock in hand to go upon for the present;‘He has very little luggage, you say?’ observed the gentleman,who was no other than our old friend, John Westlock. ‘Ah!’ cried Mrs Gamp. ‘A rayal gentleman!’and I will readily undertake to pay the doctor and the nurses.’‘Nothing but a portmanteau,’ said the landlord; ‘and very She groaned her admiration so audibly, that they all turnedlittle in it.’round. Mrs Gamp felt the necessity of advancing, bundle in‘A few pounds in his purse, though?’hand, and introducing herself.412

Charles Dickens‘The night-nurse,’ she observed, ‘from Kingsgate Street, well door which was immediately opened by Mrs Prig, bonnetedbeknown to Mrs Prig the day-nurse, and the best of creeturs. and shawled and all impatience to be gone. Mrs Prig was ofHow is the poor dear gentleman to-night? If he an’t no better the Gamp build, but not so fat; and her voice was deeper andyet, still that is what must be expected and prepared for. It more like a man’s. She had also a beard.an’t the fust time by a many score, ma’am,’ dropping a curtseyto the landlady, ‘that Mrs Prig and me has nussed to-in some displeasure.‘I began to think you warn’t a-coming!’ Mrs Prig observed,gether, turn and turn about, one off, one on. We knows each ‘It shall be made good to-morrow night,’ said Mrs Gampother’s ways, and often gives relief when others fail. Our charges ‘Honorable. I had to go and fetch my things.’ She had begunis but low, sir’—Mrs Gamp addressed herself to John on this to make signs of inquiry in reference to the position of thehead—’considerin’ the nater of our painful dooty. If they wos patient and his overhearing them—for there was a screen beforethe door—when Mrs Prig settled that point easily.made accordin’ to our wishes, they would be easy paid.’Regarding herself as having now delivered her inauguration ‘Oh!’ she said aloud, ‘he’s quiet, but his wits is gone. It an’taddress, Mrs Gamp curtseyed all round, and signified her wish no matter wot you say.’to be conducted to the scene of her official duties. The chambermaidled her, through a variety of intricate passages, to the setting her bundle down inside the door, and looking affec-‘Anythin’ to tell afore you goes, my dear?’ asked Mrs Gamp,top of the house; and pointing at length to a solitary door at tionately at her partner.the end of a gallery, informed her that yonder was the chamberwhere the patient lay. That done, she hurried off with all I can partlck’ler recommend it. Don’t have nothink to say to‘The pickled salmon,’ Mrs Prig replied, ‘is quite delicious.the speed she could make.the cold meat, for it tastes of the stable. The drinks is allMrs Gamp traversed the gallery in a great heat from having good.’carried her large bundle up so many stairs, and tapped at the Mrs Gamp expressed herself much gratified.413

Martin Chuzzlewit‘The physic and them things is on the drawers and A young man—dark and not ill-looking—with long blackmankleshelf,’ said Mrs Prig, cursorily. ‘He took his last slime hair, that seemed the blacker for the whiteness of the bedclothes.His eyes were partly open, and he never ceased to rolldraught at seven. The easy-chair an’t soft enough. You’ll wanthis piller.’his head from side to side upon the pillow, keeping his bodyMrs Gamp thanked her for these hints, and giving her a almost quiet. He did not utter words; but every now andfriendly good night, held the door open until she had disappearedat the other end of the gallery. Having thus performed times of surprise; and still his restless head—oh, weary, wearythen gave vent to an expression of impatience or fatigue, some-the hospitable duty of seeing her safely off, she shut it, locked hour!—went to and fro without a moment’s intermission.it on the inside, took up her bundle, walked round the screen, Mrs Gamp solaced herself with a pinch of snuff, and stoodand entered on her occupation of the sick chamber. looking at him with her head inclined a little sideways, as a‘A little dull, but not so bad as might be,’ Mrs Gamp remarked.‘I’m glad to see a parapidge, in case of fire, and lots grees, a horrible remembrance of one branch of her callingconnoisseur might gaze upon a doubtful work of art. By de-of roofs and chimley-pots to walk upon.’took possession of the woman; and stooping down, she pinnedIt will be seen from these remarks that Mrs Gamp was lookingout of window. When she had exhausted the prospect, look if laid out as a dead man. Her fingers itched to composehis wandering arms against his sides, to see how he wouldshe tried the easy-chair, which she indignantly declared was his limbs in that last marble attitude.‘harder than a brickbadge.’ Next she pursued her researches ‘Ah!’ said Mrs Gamp, walking away from the bed, ‘he’damong the physic-bottles, glasses, jugs, and tea-cups; and when make a lovely corpse.’she had entirely satisfied her curiosity on all these subjects of She now proceeded to unpack her bundle; lighted a candleinvestigation, she untied her bonnet-strings and strolled up with the aid of a fire-box on the drawers; filled a small kettle,to the bedside to take a look at the patient.as a preliminary to refreshing herself with a cup of tea in the414

Charles Dickenscourse of the night; laid what she called ‘a little bit of fire,’ for served that she would stand at the door until the order wasthe same philanthropic purpose; and also set forth a small executed, to the end that the patient might not be disturbedtea-board, that nothing might be wanting for her comfortableenjoyment. These preparations occupied so long, that thank the young woman to ‘look sharp.’by her opening it a second time; and therefore she wouldwhen they were brought to a conclusion it was high time to A tray was brought with everything upon it, even to thethink about supper; so she rang the bell and ordered it. cucumber and Mrs Gamp accordingly sat down to eat and‘I think, young woman,’ said Mrs Gamp to the assistant drink in high good humour. The extent to which she availedchambermaid, in a tone expressive of weakness, ‘that I could herself of the vinegar, and supped up that refreshing fluidpick a little bit of pickled salmon, with a nice little sprig of with the blade of her knife, can scarcely be expressed in narrative.fennel, and a sprinkling of white pepper. I takes new bread,my dear, with just a little pat of fresh butter, and a mossel of ‘Ah!’ sighed Mrs Gamp, as she meditated over the warmcheese. In case there should be such a thing as a cowcumber in shilling’s-worth, ‘what a blessed thing it is—living in a wale—the ‘ouse, will you be so kind as bring it, for I’m rather partial to be contented! What a blessed thing it is to make sick peopleto ‘em, and they does a world of good in a sick room. If they happy in their beds, and never mind one’s self as long as onedraws the Brighton Old Tipper here, I takes that ale at night, can do a service! I don’t believe a finer cowcumber was evermy love, it bein’ considered wakeful by the doctors. And grow’d. I’m sure I never see one!’whatever you do, young woman, don’t bring more than a She moralised in the same vein until her glass was empty,shilling’s-worth of gin and water-warm when I rings the bell and then admistered the patient’s medicine, by the simplea second time; for that is always my allowance, and I never process of clutching his windpipe to make him gasp, andtakes a drop beyond!’immediately pouring it down his throat.Having preferred these moderate requests, Mrs Gamp ob-‘I a’most forgot the piller, I declare!’ said Mrs Gamp, draw-415

Martin Chuzzlewiting it away. ‘There! Now he’s comfortable as he can be, I’m Oh, weary, weary hour! Oh, haggard mind, groping darklysure! I must try to make myself as much so as I can.’ through the past; incapable of detaching itself from the miserablepresent; dragging its heavy chain of care through imagi-With this view, she went about the construction of an extemporaneousbed in the easy-chair, with the addition of the nary feasts and revels, and scenes of awful pomp; seeking butnext easy one for her feet. Having formed the best couch that a moment’s rest among the long-forgotten haunts of childhood,and the resorts of yesterday; and dimly finding fear andthe circumstances admitted of, she took out of her bundle ayellow night-cap, of prodigious size, in shape resembling a horror everywhere! Oh, weary, weary hour! What were thecabbage; which article of dress she fixed and tied on with the wanderings of Cain, to these!utmost care, previously divesting herself of a row of bald old Still, without a moment’s interval, the burning head tossedcurls that could scarcely be called false, they were so very innocentof anything approaching to deception. From the same fering, and surprise, found utterance upon that rack, andto and fro. Still, from time to time, fatigue, impatience, suf-repository she brought forth a night-jacket, in which she also plainly too, though never once in words. At length, in theattired herself. Finally, she produced a watchman’s coat which solemn hour of midnight, he began to talk; waiting awfullyshe tied round her neck by the sleeves, so that she become for answers sometimes; as though invisible companions weretwo people; and looked, behind, as if she were in the act of about his bed; and so replying to their speech and questioningagain.being embraced by one of the old patrol.All these arrangements made, she lighted the rush-light, coiled Mrs Gamp awoke, and sat up in her bed; presenting on theherself up on her couch, and went to sleep. Ghostly and dark wall the shadow of a gigantic night constable, struggling withthe room became, and full of lowering shadows. The distant a prisoner.noises in the streets were gradually hushed; the house was quiet ‘Come! Hold your tongue!’ she cried, in sharp reproof.as a sepulchre; the dead of might was coffined in the silent city. ‘Don’t make none of that noise here.’416

Charles DickensThere was no alteration in the face, or in the incessant motionof the head, but he talked on wildly.sliding that feature backwards and forwards along the brassupon it; and for some time she drowsily amused herself by‘Ah!’ said Mrs Gamp, coming out of the chair with an impatientshiver; ‘I thought I was a-sleepin’ too pleasant to last! it. She maintained, all the while, a running commentary upontop, as far as she could, without changing her position to doThe devil’s in the night, I think, it’s turned so chilly!’ the wanderings of the man in bed.‘Don’t drink so much!’ cried the sick man. ‘You’ll ruin us ‘That makes five hundred and twenty-one men, all dressedall. Don’t you see how the fountain sinks? Look at the mark alike, and with the same distortion on their faces, that havewhere the sparkling water was just now!’passed in at the window, and out at the door,’ he cried, anxiously.‘Look there! Five hundred and twenty-two—twenty-‘Sparkling water, indeed!’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘I’ll have a sparklingcup o’ tea, I think. I wish you’d hold your noise!’ three—twenty-four. Do you see them?’He burst into a laugh, which, being prolonged, fell off into ‘Ah! I see ‘em,’ said Mrs Gamp; ‘all the whole kit of ‘ema dismal wail. Checking himself, with fierce inconstancy he numbered like hackney-coaches, an’t they?’began to count—fast.‘Touch me! Let me be sure of this. Touch me!’‘One—two—three—four—five—six.’‘You’ll take your next draught when I’ve made the kettle“One, two, buckle my shoe,”’ said Mrs Gamp, who was bile,’ retorted Mrs Gamp, composedly, ‘and you’ll be touchednow on her knees, lighting the fire, “three, four, shut the then. You’ll be touched up, too, if you don’t take it quiet.’door,”—I wish you’d shut your mouth, young man—”five, ‘Five hundred and twenty-eight, five hundred and twentynine,five hundred and thirty.—Look here!’six, picking up sticks.” If I’d got a few handy, I should havethe kettle boiling all the sooner.’‘What’s the matter now?’ said Mrs Gamp.Awaiting this desirable consummation, she sat down so close ‘They’re coming four abreast, each man with his arm entwinedin the next man’s, and his hand upon his to the fender (which was a high one) that her nose restedshoulder.417

Martin ChuzzlewitWhat’s that upon the arm of every man, and on the flag?’ ‘It seemed to make the wery bottles ring,’ she said. ‘What‘Spiders, p’raps,’ said Mrs Gamp.could I have been a-dreaming of? That dratted Chuffey, I’ll‘Crape! Black crape! Good God! why do they wear it outside?’The supposition was probable enough. At any rate, a pinchbe bound.’‘Would you have ‘em carry black crape in their insides?’ of snuff, and the song of the steaming kettle, quite restoredMrs Gamp retorted. ‘Hold your noise, hold your noise.’ the tone of Mrs Gamp’s nerves, which were none of the weakest.She brewed her tea; made some buttered toast; and satThe fire beginning by this time to impart a grateful warmth,Mrs Gamp became silent; gradually rubbed her nose more down at the tea-board, with her face to the fire.and more slowly along the top of the fender; and fell into a When once again, in a tone more terrible than that whichheavy doze. She was awakened by the room ringing (as she had vibrated in her slumbering ear, these words were shriekedfancied) with a name she knew:out:‘Chuzzlewit!’‘Chuzzlewit! Jonas! No!’The sound was so distinct and real, and so full of agonised Mrs Gamp dropped the cup she was in the act of raising toentreaty, that Mrs Gamp jumped up in terror, and ran to the her lips, and turned round with a start that made the littledoor. She expected to find the passage filled with people, come tea-board leap. The cry had come from the bed.to tell her that the house in the city had taken fire. But theplace was empty; not a soul was there. She opened the window,and looked out. Dark, dull, dingy, and desolate house-of the window, and the sun was rising cheerfully. Lighter andIT WAS BRIGHT MORNING the next time Mrs Gamp looked outtops. As she passed to her seat again, she glanced at the patient.Just the same; but silent. Mrs Gamp was so warm now, summer air uprose the smoke of newly kindled fires, untillighter grew the sky, and noisier the streets; and high into thethat she threw off the watchman’s coat, and fanned herself. the busy day was broad awake.418

Charles DickensMrs Prig relieved punctually, having passed a good night at ‘Oh, I shan’t mind him,’ Mrs Prig returned. ‘I have somethin’her other patient’s. Mr Westlock came at the same time, but else to think of.’he was not admitted, the disorder being infectious. The doctorcame too. The doctor shook his head. It was all he could afore my time,’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘But, Betsy Prig’—speaking‘I pays my debts to-night, you know, my dear, and comesdo, under the circumstances, and he did it well.with great feeling, and laying her hand upon her arm—’try‘What sort of a night, nurse?’the cowcumbers, God bless you!’‘Restless, sir,’ said Mrs Gamp.‘Talk much?’CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX‘Middling, sir,’ said Mrs Gamp.‘Nothing to the purpose, I suppose?’AN UNEXPECTED MEETING, AND A‘Oh bless you, no, sir. Only jargon.’PROMISING PROSPECT‘Well!’ said the doctor, ‘we must keep him quiet; keep theroom cool; give him his draughts regularly; and see that he’sTHE LAWS OF SYMPATHY between beards and birds, and the secretsource of that attraction which frequently impels a shavercarefully looked to. That’s all!’‘And as long as Mrs Prig and me waits upon him, sir, noof the one to be a dealer in the other, are questions for thefear of that,’ said Mrs Gamp.subtle reasoning of scientific bodies; not the less so, because‘I suppose,’ observed Mrs Prig, when they had curtseyedtheir investigation would seem calculated to lead to no particularresult. It is enough to know that the artist who had thethe doctor out; ‘there’s nothin’ new?’‘Nothin’ at all, my dear,’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘He’s rather wearin’honour of entertaining Mrs Gamp as his first-floor lodger,in his talk from making up a lot of names; elseways you needn’tunited the two pursuits of barbering and bird-fancying; andmind him.’that it was not an original idea of his, but one in which he419

Martin Chuzzlewithad, dispersed about the by-streets and suburbs of the town, shave, or must be shaved, on a Sunday, and beards will growa host of rivals.after twelve o’clock on Saturday night, though it be upon theThe name of the householder was Paul Sweedlepipe. But chins of base mechanics; who, not being able to engage theirhe was commonly called Poll Sweedlepipe; and was not uncommonlybelieved to have been so christened, among his oh, the wickedness of copper coin!—in dirty pence. Pollvalets by the quarter, hire them by the job, and pay them—friends and neighbours.Sweedlepipe, the sinner, shaved all comers at a penny each,With the exception of the staircase, and his lodger’s private and cut the hair of any customer for twopence; and being aapartment, Poll Sweedlepipe’s house was one great bird’s nest. lone unmarried man, and having some connection in the birdGamecocks resided in the kitchen; pheasants wasted the brightnessof their golden plumage on the garret; bantams roosted He was a little elderly man, with a clammy cold right hand,line, Poll got on tolerably well.in the cellar; owls had possession of the bedroom; and specimensof all the smaller fry of birds chirrupped and twittered of shaving-soap. Poll had something of the bird in his nature;from which even rabbits and birds could not remove the smellin the shop. The staircase was sacred to rabbits. There in not of the hawk or eagle, but of the sparrow, that builds inhutches of all shapes and kinds, made from old packing-cases, chimney-stacks and inclines to human company. He was notboxes, drawers, and tea-chests, they increased in a prodigious quarrelsome, though, like the sparrow; but peaceful, like thedegree, and contributed their share towards that complicated dove. In his walk he strutted; and, in this respect, he bore awhiff which, quite impartially, and without distinction of faint resemblance to the pigeon, as well as in a certain prosinessof speech, which might, in its monotony, be likened topersons, saluted every nose that was put into Sweedlepipe’seasy shaving-shop.the cooing of that bird. He was very inquisitive; and when heMany noses found their way there, for all that, especially stood at his shop-door in the evening-tide, watching theon Sunday morning, before church-time. Even archbishops neighbours, with his head on one side, and his eye cocked420

Charles Dickensknowingly, there was a dash of the raven in him. Yet there flannel jacket, and corduroy knee-shorts. It was in this latterwas no more wickedness in Poll than in a robin. Happily, costume, but with his apron girded round his waist, as a tokentoo, when any of his ornithological properties were on the of his having shut up shop for the night, that he closed theverge of going too far, they were quenched, dissolved, melted door one evening, some weeks after the occurrences detailed indown, and neutralised in the barber; just as his bald head— the last chapter, and stood upon the steps in Kingsgate Street,otherwise, as the head of a shaved magpie—lost itself in a wig listening until the little cracked bell within should leave offof curly black ringlets, parted on one side, and cut away almostto the crown, to indicate immense capacity of intellect. tion—the place never seemed quiet enough to be left to itself.ringing. For until it did—this was Mr Sweedlepipe’s reflec-Poll had a very small, shrill treble voice, which might have ‘It’s the greediest little bell to ring,’ said Poll, ‘that ever was.led the wags of Kingsgate Street to insist the more upon his But it’s quiet at last.’feminine designation. He had a tender heart, too; for, when He rolled his apron up a little tighter as he said these words,he had a good commission to provide three or four score and hastened down the street. Just as he was turning intosparrows for a shooting-match, he would observe, in a compassionatetone, how singular it was that sparrows should have youth was bold, though small, and with several lively expres-Holborn, he ran against a young gentleman in a livery. Thisbeen made expressly for such purposes. The question, whether sions of displeasure, turned upon him instantly.men were made to shoot them, never entered into Poll’s philosophy.where you’re a-going to—eh? Can’t you mind where you’re a-‘Now, stoo-pid!’ cried the young gentleman. ‘Can’t you lookPoll wore, in his sporting character, a velveteen coat, a great coming to—eh? What do you think your eyes was made for—deal of blue stocking, ankle boots, a neckerchief of some bright eh? Ah! Yes. Oh! Now then!’colour, and a very tall hat. Pursuing his more quiet occupation The young gentleman pronounced the two last words in aof barber, he generally subsided into an apron not over-clean, a very loud tone and with frightful emphasis, as though they421

Martin Chuzzlewitcontained within themselves the essence of the direst aggravation.But he had scarcely done so, when his anger yielded to coat, too, bound with gold; and a cockade in your hat!’‘Beau-ti-ful!’ cried the barber again. ‘A grass-green frock-surprise, and he cried, in a milder tone:‘I should hope so,’ replied the youth. ‘Blow the cockade,‘What! Polly!’though; for, except that it don’t turn round, it’s like the‘Why, it an’t you, sure!’ cried Poll. ‘It can’t be you!’ wentilator that used to be in the kitchen winder at Todgers’s.‘No. It an’t me,’ returned the youth. ‘It’s my son, my oldestone. He’s a credit to his father, an’t he, Polly?’ With this ‘No,’ returned the barber. ‘Is she a bankrupt?’You ain’t seen the old lady’s name in the Gazette, have you?’delicate little piece of banter, he halted on the pavement, and ‘If she ain’t, she will be,’ retorted Bailey. ‘That bis’ness neverwent round and round in circles, for the better exhibition of can be carried on without ME. Well! How are you?’his figure; rather to the inconvenience of the passengers generally,who were not in an equal state of spirits with himself. of the town, or were you coming to see me? Was that the‘Oh! I’m pretty well,’ said Poll. ‘Are you living at this end‘I wouldn’t have believed it,’ said Poll. ‘What! You’ve left bis’ness that brought you to Holborn?’your old place, then? Have you?’‘I haven’t got no bis’ness in Holborn,’ returned Bailey, with‘Have I!’ returned his young friend, who had by this time some displeasure. ‘All my bis’ness lays at the West End. I’vestuck his hands into the pockets of his white cord breeches, got the right sort of governor now. You can’t see his face forand was swaggering along at the barber’s side. ‘D’ye know a his whiskers, and can’t see his whiskers for the dye upon ‘em.pair of top-boots when you see ‘em, Polly?—look here!’ That’s a gentleman ain’t it? You wouldn’t like a ride in a cab,‘Beau-ti-ful’ cried Mr Sweedlepipe.would you? Why, it wouldn’t be safe to offer it. You’d faint‘D’ye know a slap-up sort of button, when you see it?’ said away, only to see me a-comin’ at a mild trot round the corner.’the youth. ‘Don’t look at mine, if you ain’t a judge, becausethese lions’ heads was made for men of taste; not snobs.’ To convey a slight idea of the effect of this approach, Mr422

Charles DickensBailey counterfeited in his own person the action of a hightrottinghorse and threw up his head so high, in backing against of the conversation, while the easy-shaver was the child.same graceful rakishness. He was quite the man-about-towna pump, that he shook his hat off.‘Why, I am going to fetch my lodger home,’ said Paul.‘Why, he’s own uncle to Capricorn,’ said Bailey, ‘and brother ‘A woman!’ cried Mr Bailey, ‘for a twenty-pun’ note!’to Cauliflower. He’s been through the winders of two chaney The little barber hastened to explain that she was neither ashops since we’ve had him, and was sold for killin’ his missis. young woman, nor a handsome woman, but a nurse, whoThat’s a horse, I hope?’had been acting as a kind of house-keeper to a gentleman for‘Ah! you’ll never want to buy any more red polls, now,’ some weeks past, and left her place that night, in consequenceobserved Poll, looking on his young friend with an air of of being superseded by another and a more legitimate housekeeper—towit, the gentleman’s bride.melancholy. ‘You’ll never want to buy any more red pollsnow, to hang up over the sink, will you?’‘He’s newly married, and he brings his young wife home‘I should think not,’ replied Bailey. ‘Reether so. I wouldn’t to-night,’ said the barber. ‘So I’m going to fetch my lodgerhave nothin’ to say to any bird below a Peacock; and HE’d be away—Mr Chuzzlewit’s, close behind the Post Office—andwulgar. Well, how are you?’carry her box for her.’‘Oh! I’m pretty well,’ said Poll. He answered the question ‘Jonas Chuzzlewit’s?’ said Bailey.again because Mr Bailey asked it again; Mr Bailey asked it ‘Ah!’ returned Paul: ‘that’s the name sure enough. Do youagain, because —accompanied with a straddling action of the know him?’white cords, a bend of the knees, and a striking forth of the ‘Oh, no!’ cried Mr Bailey; ‘not at all. And I don’t know her!top-boots—it was an easy horse-fleshy, turfy sort of thing to Not neither! Why, they first kept company through me,do.a’most.’‘Wot are you up to, old feller?’ added Mr Bailey, with the ‘Ah?’ said Paul.423

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Ah!’ said Mr Bailey, with a wink; ‘and she ain’t bad looking all natural laws. He walked along the tangible and real stonesmind you. But her sister was the best. SHE was the merry of Holborn Hill, an undersized boy; and yet he winked theone. I often used to have a bit of fun with her, in the hold winks, and thought the thoughts, and did the deeds, and saidtimes!’the sayings of an ancient man. There was an old principleMr Bailey spoke as if he already had a leg and three-quarters within him, and a young surface without. He became an inexplicablecreature; a breeched and booted Sphinx. There wasin the grave, and this had happened twenty or thirty yearsago. Paul Sweedlepipe, the meek, was so perfectly confounded no course open to the barber, but to go distracted himself, orby his precocious self-possession, and his patronizing manner,as well as by his boots, cockade, and livery, that a mist Mr Bailey was good enough to continue to bear him com-to take Bailey for granted; and he wisely chose the latter.swam before his eyes, and he saw—not the Bailey of acknowledgedjuvenility from Todgers’s Commercial Boarding House, tion on various sporting topics; especially on the comparativepany, and to entertain him, as they went, with easy conversa-who had made his acquaintance within a twelvemonth, by merits, as a general principle, of horses with white stockings,purchasing, at sundry times, small birds at twopence each— and horses without. In regard to the style of tail to be preferred,Mr Bailey had opinions of his own, which he explained,but a highly-condensed embodiment of all the sporting groomsin London; an abstract of all the stable-knowledge of the time; but begged they might by no means influence his friend’s, asa something at a high-pressure that must have had existence here he knew he had the misfortune to differ from some excellentauthorities. He treated Mr Sweedlepipe to a dram,many years, and was fraught with terrible experiences. Andtruly, though in the cloudy atmosphere of Todgers’s, Mr compounded agreeably to his own directions, which he informedhim had been invented by a member of the JockeyBailey’s genius had ever shone out brightly in this particularrespect, it now eclipsed both time and space, cheated beholdersof their senses, and worked on their belief in defiance of tion, he observed that, as he had an hour to spare, andClub; and, as they were by this time near the barber’s destina-knew424

Charles Dickensthe parties, he would, if quite agreeable, be introduced to ners and great ease, that she was about to propound to herMrs Gamp.landlord in a whisper the staggering inquiry, whether he was aPaul knocked at Jonas Chuzzlewit’s; and, on the door being man or a boy, when Mr Sweedlepipe, anticipating her design,opened by that lady, made the two distinguished persons known made a timely diversion.to one another. It was a happy feature in Mrs Gamp’s twofold ‘He knows Mrs Chuzzlewit,’ said Paul aloud.profession, that it gave her an interest in everything that was ‘There’s nothin’ he don’t know; that’s my opinion,’ observedMrs Gamp. ‘All the wickedness of the world is Printyoung as well as in everything that was old. She received MrBailey with much kindness.to him.’‘It’s very good, I’m sure, of you to come,’ she said to her Mr Bailey received this as a compliment, and said, adjustinghis cravat, ‘reether so.’landlord, ‘as well as bring so nice a friend. But I’m afraid thatI must trouble you so far as to step in, for the young couple ‘As you knows Mrs Chuzzlewit, you knows, p’raps, whathas not yet made appearance.’her chris’en name is?’ Mrs Gamp observed.‘They’re late, ain’t they?’ inquired her landlord, when she ‘Charity,’ said Bailey.had conducted them downstairs into the kitchen.‘That it ain’t!’ cried Mrs Gamp.‘Well, sir, considern’ the Wings of Love, they are,’ said Mrs ‘Cherry, then,’ said Bailey. ‘Cherry’s short for it. It’s all theGamp.same.’Mr Bailey inquired whether the Wings of Love had ever ‘It don’t begin with a C at all,’ retorted Mrs Gamp, shakingwon a plate, or could be backed to do anything remarkable; her head. ‘It begins with a M.’and being informed that it was not a horse, but merely a ‘Whew!’ cried Mr Bailey, slapping a little cloud of pipeclayout of his left leg, ‘then he’s been and married the merrypoetical or figurative expression, evinced considerable disgust.Mrs Gamp was so very much astonished by his affable man-one!’425

Martin ChuzzlewitAs these words were mysterious, Mrs Gamp called upon It was true; she did not. The death that had gone before thehim to explain, which Mr Bailey proceeded to do; that lady bridal seemed to have left its shade upon the house. The air waslistening greedily to everything he said. He was yet in the heavy and oppressive; the rooms were dark; a deep gloom filledfullness of his narrative when the sound of wheels, and a double up every chink and corner. Upon the hearthstone, like a creatureof ill omen, sat the aged clerk, with his eyes fixed on someknock at the street door, announced the arrival of the newlymarried couple. Begging him to reserve what more he had to withered branches in the stove. He rose and looked at her.say for her hearing on the way home, Mrs Gamp took up the ‘So there you are, Mr Chuff,’ said Jonas carelessly, as hecandle, and hurried away to receive and welcome the young dusted his boots; ‘still in the land of the living, eh?’mistress of the house.‘Still in the land of the living, sir,’ retorted Mrs Gamp.‘Wishing you appiness and joy with all my art,’ said Mrs ‘And Mr Chuffey may thank you for it, as many and many aGamp, dropping a curtsey as they entered the hall; ‘and you, time I’ve told him.’too, sir. Your lady looks a little tired with the journey, Mr Mr Jonas was not in the best of humours, for he merelyChuzzlewit, a pretty dear!’said, as he looked round, ‘We don’t want you any more, you‘She has bothered enough about it,’ grumbled Mr Jonas. know, Mrs Gamp.’‘Now, show a light, will you?’‘I’m a-going immediate, sir,’ returned the nurse; ‘unless‘This way, ma’am, if you please,’ said Mrs Gamp, going there’s nothink I can do for you, ma’am. Ain’t there,’ saidupstairs before them. ‘Things has been made as comfortable Mrs Gamp, with a look of great sweetness, and rummagingas they could be, but there’s many things you’ll have to alter all the time in her pocket; ‘ain’t there nothink I can do foryour own self when you gets time to look about you! Ah! you, my little bird?’sweet thing! But you don’t,’ added Mrs Gamp, internally, ‘No,’ said Merry, almost crying. ‘You had better go away,‘you don’t look much like a merry one, I must say!’ please!’426

Charles DickensWith a leer of mingled sweetness and slyness; with one eye ‘that she don’t look much like a merry one at this presenton the future, one on the bride, and an arch expression in her moment of time.’face, partly spiritual, partly spirituous, and wholly professional ‘Ah! wait till you hear her laugh!’ said Bailey.and peculiar to her art; Mrs Gamp rummaged in her pocket ‘Hem!’ cried Mrs Gamp, in a kind of groan. ‘I will, child.’again, and took from it a printed card, whereon was an inscriptioncopied from her signboard.bonnet, Mr Sweedlepipe took up her box; and Mr BaileyThey said no more in the house, for Mrs Gamp put on her‘Would you be so good, my darling dovey of a dear young accompanied them towards Kingsgate Street; recounting tomarried lady,’ Mrs Gamp observed, in a low voice, ‘as put Mrs Gamp as they went along, the origin and progress of histhat somewheres where you can keep it in your mind? I’m acquaintance with Mrs Chuzzlewit and her sister. It was awell beknown to many ladies, and it’s my card. Gamp is my pleasant instance of this youth’s precocity, that he fancied Mrsname, and Gamp my nater. Livin’ quite handy, I will make so Gamp had conceived a tenderness for him, and was muchbold as call in now and then, and make inquiry how your tickled by her misplaced attachment.health and spirits is, my precious chick!’As the door closed heavily behind them, Mrs Jonas sat downAnd with innumerable leers, winks, coughs, nods, smiles, in a chair, and felt a strange chill creep upon her, whilst sheand curtseys, all leading to the establishment of a mysterious looked about the room. It was pretty much as she had knownand confidential understanding between herself and the bride, it, but appeared more dreary. She had thought to see it brightenedto receive her.Mrs Gamp, invoking a blessing upon the house, leered, winked,coughed, nodded, smiled, and curtseyed herself out of the ‘It ain’t good enough for you, I suppose?’ said Jonas, watchingher looks.room.‘But I will say, and I would if I was led a Martha to the ‘Why, it IS dull,’ said Merry, trying to be more herself.Stakes for it,’ Mrs Gamp remarked below stairs, in a whisper, ‘It’ll be duller before you’re done with it,’ retorted Jonas, ‘if427

Martin Chuzzlewityou give me any of your airs. You’re a nice article, to turnCHAPTER TWENTYsulkyon first coming home! Ecod, you used to have lifeenough, when you could plague me with it. The gal’s downstairs.Ring the bell for supper, while I take my boots off!’SEVENShe roused herself from looking after him as he left the SHOWING THAT OLD FRIENDS MAYroom, to do what he had desired; when the old man Chuffey NOT ONLY APPEAR WITH NEW FACES,laid his hand softly on her arm.BUT IN FALSE COLOURS. THAT PEOPLE‘You are not married?’ he said eagerly. ‘Not married?’ ARE PRONE TO BITE, AND THAT BITERS‘Yes. A month ago. Good Heaven, what is the matter?’MAY SOMETIMES BE BITTEN.He answered nothing was the matter; and turned from her.But in her fear and wonder, turning also, she saw him raise hisMR BAILEY, JUNIOR—for the sporting character, whilom oftrembling hands above his head, and heard him say: general utility at Todgers’s, had now regularly set up in life‘Oh! woe, woe, woe, upon this wicked house!’under that name, without troubling himself to obtain fromIt was her welcome—home.the legislature a direct licence in the form of a Private Bill,which of all kinds and classes of bills is without exception themost unreasonable in its charges—Mr Bailey, Junior, just tallenough to be seen by an inquiring eye, gazing indolently atsociety from beneath the apron of his master’s cab, droveslowly up and down Pall Mall, about the hour of noon, inwaiting for his ‘Governor.’ The horse of distinguished family,who had Capricorn for his nephew, and Cauliflower for428

Charles Dickenshis brother, showed himself worthy of his high relations by On the present occasion Mr Bailey, being in spirits, waschamping at the bit until his chest was white with foam, and more than commonly hard upon his charge; in consequencerearing like a horse in heraldry; the plated harness and the of which that fiery animal confined himself almost entirelypatent leather glittered in the sun; pedestrians admired; Mr to his hind legs in displaying his paces, and constantly gotBailey was complacent, but unmoved. He seemed to say, ‘A himself into positions with reference to the cabriolet that verybarrow, good people, a mere barrow; nothing to what we much amazed the passengers in the street. But Mr Bailey, notcould do, if we chose!’ and on he went, squaring his short at all disturbed, had still a shower of pleasantries to bestowgreen arms outside the apron, as if he were hooked on to it by on any one who crossed his path; as, calling to a full-grownhis armpits.coal-heaver in a wagon, who for a moment blocked the way,Mr Bailey had a great opinion of Brother to Cauliflower, ‘Now, young ‘un, who trusted YOU with a cart?’ inquiringand estimated his powers highly. But he never told him so. of elderly ladies who wanted to cross, and ran back again,On the contrary, it was his practice, in driving that animal, to ‘Why they didn’t go to the workhouse and get an order to beassail him with disrespectful, if not injurious, expressions, as, buried?’ tempting boys, with friendly words, to get up behind,and immediately afterwards cutting them down; and‘Ah! would you!’ ‘Did you think it, then?’ ‘Where are yougoing to now?’ ‘No, you won’t, my lad!’ and similar fragmentaryremarks. These being usually accompanied by a jerk sionally relieve by going round St. James’s Square at a handthe like flashes of a cheerful humour, which he would occa-of the rein, or a crack of the whip, led to many trials of strength gallop, and coming slowly into Pall Mall by another entry, asbetween them, and to many contentions for the upper-hand, if, in the interval, his pace had been a perfect crawl.terminating, now and then, in china-shops, and other unusualgoals, as Mr Bailey had already hinted to his friend Poll peated, and the apple-stall at the corner had sustained so manyIt was not until these amusements had been very often re-Sweedlepipe.miraculous escapes as to appear impregnable, that Mr Bailey429

Martin Chuzzlewitwas summoned to the door of a certain house in Pall Mall, green and blushing red, were on his waistcoat; precious chainsand turning short, obeyed the call and jumped out. It was not and jewels sparkled on his breast; his fingers, clogged withuntil he had held the bridle for some minutes longer, every brilliant rings, were as unwieldly as summer flies but newlyjerk of Cauliflower’s brother’s head, and every twitch of rescued from a honey-pot. The daylight mantled in his gleaminghat and boots as in a polished glass. And yet, thoughCauliflower’s brother’s nostril, taking him off his legs in themeanwhile, that two persons entered the vehicle, one of whom changed his name, and changed his outward surface, it wastook the reins and drove rapidly off. Nor was it until Mr Tigg. Though turned and twisted upside down, and insideBailey had run after it some hundreds of yards in vain, that he out, as great men have been sometimes known to be; thoughmanaged to lift his short leg into the iron step, and finally to no longer Montague Tigg, but Tigg Montague; still it wasget his boots upon the little footboard behind. Then, indeed, Tigg; the same Satanic, gallant, military Tigg. The brass washe became a sight to see; and—standing now on one foot and burnished, lacquered, newly stamped; yet it was the true Tiggnow upon the other, now trying to look round the cab on metal notwithstanding.this side, now on that, and now endeavouring to peep over Beside him sat a smiling gentleman, of less pretensions andthe top of it, as it went dashing in among the carts and of business looks, whom he addressed as David. Surely notcoaches—was from head to heel Newmarket.the David of the—how shall it be phrased?—the triumvirateThe appearance of Mr Bailey’s governor as he drove along of golden balls? Not David, tapster at the Lombards’ Arms?fully justified that enthusiastic youth’s description of him to Yes. The very man.the wondering Poll. He had a world of jet-black shining hair ‘The secretary’s salary, David,’ said Mr Montague, ‘the officebeing now established, is eight hundred pounds per an-upon his head, upon his cheeks, upon his chin, upon his upperlip. His clothes, symmetrically made, were of the newest num, with his house-rent, coals, and candles free. His fiveand-twentyshares he holds, of course. Is that fashion and the costliest kind. Flowers of gold and blue, andenough?’430

Charles DickensDavid smiled and nodded, and coughed behind a little ‘A figure of two, and as many oughts after it as the printerlocked portfolio which he carried; with an air that proclaimed can get into the same line,’ replied his friend. ‘Ha, ha!’him to be the secretary in question.At this they both laughed; the secretary so vehemently, that‘If that’s enough,’ said Montague, ‘I will propose it at the in kicking up his feet, he kicked the apron open, and nearlyBoard to-day, in my capacity as chairman.’started Cauliflower’s brother into an oyster shop; not to mentionMr Bailey’s receiving such a sudden swing, that he held onThe secretary smiled again; laughed, indeed, this time; andsaid, rubbing his nose slily with one end of the portfolio: for a moment quite a young Fame, by one strap and no legs.‘It was a capital thought, wasn’t it?’‘What a chap you are!’ exclaimed David admiringly, when‘What was a capital thought, David?’ Mr Montague inquired.‘Say, genius, David, genius.’this little alarm had subsided.‘The Anglo-Bengalee,’ tittered the secretary.‘“Well, upon my soul, you are a genius then,’ said David. ‘I‘The Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life AssuranceCompany is rather a capital concern, I hope, David,’ said never believed you were half the man you are. How could I?’always knew you had the gift of the gab, of course; but IMontague.‘I rise with circumstances, David. That’s a point of genius‘Capital indeed!’ cried the secretary, with another laugh—’ in itself,’ said Tigg. ‘If you were to lose a hundred poundin one sense.’wager to me at this minute David, and were to pay it (which‘In the only important one,’ observed the chairman; ‘which is most confoundedly improbable), I should rise, in a mentalis number one, David.’point of view, directly.’‘What,’ asked the secretary, bursting into another laugh, It is due to Mr Tigg to say that he had really risen with his‘what will be the paid up capital, according to the next prospectus?comea grander manopportunities; and, peculating on a grander scale, he had be-altogether.431

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Ha, ha,’ cried the secretary, laying his hand, with growing have some credit. Didn’t I say to you that I’d saved a fewfamiliarity, upon the chairman’s arm. ‘When I look at you, pounds?—’and think of your property in Bengal being—ha, ha, ha!—’ ‘You said! Didn’t I say to you,’ interposed Tigg, ‘that I hadThe half-expressed idea seemed no less ludicrous to Mr Tigg come into a few pounds?’than to his friend, for he laughed too, heartily.‘Certainly you did,’ returned David, warmly, ‘but that’s not‘—Being,’ resumed David, ‘being amenable—your propertyin Bengal being amenable—to all claims upon the com-could furnish an office, and make a show?’the idea. Who said, that if we put the money together wepany; when I look at you and think of that, you might tickle ‘And who said,’ retorted Mr Tigg, ‘that, provided we did itme into fits by waving the feather of a pen at me. Upon my on a sufficiently large scale, we could furnish an office andsoul you might!’make a show, without any money at all? Be rational, and just,‘It a devilish fine property,’ said Tigg Montague, ‘to be and calm, and tell me whose idea was that.’amenable to any claims. The preserve of tigers alone is worth ‘Why, there,’ David was obliged to confess, ‘you had thea mint of money, David.’advantage of me, I admit. But I don’t put myself on a levelDavid could only reply in the intervals of his laughter, ‘Oh, with you. I only want a little credit in the business.’what a chap you are!’ and so continued to laugh, and hold his ‘All the credit you deserve to have,’ said Tigg.sides, and wipe his eyes, for some time, without offering any ‘The plain work of the company, David—figures, books,other observation.circulars, advertisements, pen, ink, and paper, sealing-wax and‘A capital idea?’ said Tigg, returning after a time to his wafers—is admirably done by you. You are a first-rate groveller.companion’s first remark; ‘no doubt it was a capital idea. It I don’t dispute it. But the ornamental department, David;was my idea.’the inventive and poetical department—’‘No, no. It was my idea,’ said David. ‘Hang it, let a man ‘Is entirely yours,’ said his friend. ‘No question of it. But432

Charles Dickenswith such a swell turnout as this, and all the handsome things in a first floor over a tailor’s at the west-end of the town, andyou’ve got about you, and the life you lead, I mean to say it’s main offices in a new street in the City, comprising the uppera precious comfortable department too.’part of a spacious house resplendent in stucco and plate-glass,‘Does it gain the purpose? Is it Anglo-Bengalee?’ asked Tigg. with wire-blinds in all the windows, and ‘Anglo-Bengalee’‘Yes,’ said David.worked into the pattern of every one of them. On the doorpostwas painted again in large letters, ‘offices of the Anglo-‘Could you undertake it yourself?’ demanded Tigg.‘No,’ said David.Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Assurance Company,’‘Ha, ha!’ laughed Tigg. ‘Then be contented with your stationand your profits, David, my fine fellow, and bless the tion; always kept very bright, as courting inquiry; staring theand on the door was a large brass plate with the same inscrip-day that made us acquainted across the counter of our commonuncle, for it was a golden day to you.’and all day long on Sundays; and looking bolder than theCity out of countenance after office hours on working days,It will have been already gathered from the conversation of Bank. Within, the offices were newly plastered, newly painted,these worthies, that they were embarked in an enterprise of newly papered, newly countered, newly floor-clothed, newlysome magnitude, in which they addressed the public in generalfrom the strong position of having everything to gain that were substantial and expensive, and designed (like thetabled, newly chaired, newly fitted up in every way, with goodsand nothing at all to lose; and which, based upon this great company) to last. Business! Look at the green ledgers withprinciple, was thriving pretty comfortably.red backs, like strong cricket-balls beaten flat; the court-guidesThe Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Assurance directories, day-books, almanacks, letter-boxes, weighingmachinesfor letters, rows of fire-buckets for dashing out aCompany started into existence one morning, not an InfantInstitution, but a Grown-up Company running alone at a conflagration in its first spark, and saving the immense wealthgreat pace, and doing business right and left: with a ‘branch’ in notes and bonds belonging to the company; look at the433

Martin Chuzzlewitiron safes, the clock, the office seal—in its capacious self, securityfor anything. Solidity! Look at the massive blocks of permanence and stability.sonably be suggested by the Board of Management for itsmarble in the chimney-pieces, and the gorgeous parapet on This gentleman’s name, by the way, had been originallythe top of the house! Publicity! Why, Anglo-Bengalee DisinterestedLoan and Life Assurance company is painted on the struction and might be misrepresented, he had altered it toCrimp; but as the word was susceptible of an awkward con-very coal-scuttles. It is repeated at every turn until the eyes are Crimple.dazzled with it, and the head is giddy. It is engraved upon the Lest with all these proofs and confirmations, any man shouldtop of all the letter paper, and it makes a scroll-work round be suspicious of the Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan andthe seal, and it shines out of the porter’s buttons, and it is Life Assurance company; should doubt in tiger, cab, or person,Tigg Montague, Esquire, (of Pall Mall and Bengal), orrepeated twenty times in every circular and public noticewherein one David Crimple, Esquire, Secretary and resident any other name in the imaginative List of Directors; thereDirector, takes the liberty of inviting your attention to the was a porter on the premises—a wonderful creature, in a vastaccompanying statement of the advantages offered by the red waistcoat and a short-tailed pepper-and-salt coat—whoAnglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Assurance Company;and fully proves to you that any connection on your whole establishment without him. No confidences existedcarried more conviction to the minds of sceptics than thepart with that establishment must result in a perpetual ChristmasBox and constantly increasing Bonus to yourself, and had served last; no character or explanation had been given orbetween him and the Directorship; nobody knew where hethat nobody can run any risk by the transaction except the required. No questions had been asked on either side. Thisoffice, which, in its great liberality is pretty sure to lose. And mysterious being, relying solely on his figure, had applied forthis, David Crimple, Esquire, submits to you (and the odds the situation, and had been instantly engaged on his own terms.are heavy you believe him), is the best guarantee that can rea-They were high; but he knew, doubtless, that no man could434

Charles Dickenscarry such an extent of waistcoat as himself, and felt the full in the Anglo-Bengalee. He was grave with imaginary cares ofvalue of his capacity to such an institution. When he sat upon office; and having nothing whatever to do, and something lessa seat erected for him in a corner of the office, with his glazed to take care of, would look as if the pressure of his numeroushat hanging on a peg over his head, it was impossible to doubt duties, and a sense of the treasure in the company’s strongroom,made him a solemn and a thoughtful man.the respectability of the concern. It went on doubling itselfwith every square inch of his red waistcoat until, like the problemof the nails in the horse’s shoes, the total became enor-bare-headed on the pavement, crying aloud ‘Room for theAs the cabriolet drove up to the door, this officer appearedmous. People had been known to apply to effect an insurance chairman, room for the chairman, if you please!’ much to theon their lives for a thousand pounds, and looking at him, to admiration of the bystanders, who, it is needless to say, hadbeg, before the form of proposal was filled up, that it might their attention directed to the Anglo-Bengalee Companybe made two. And yet he was not a giant. His coat was rather thenceforth, by that means. Mr Tigg leaped gracefully out,small than otherwise. The whole charm was in his waistcoat. followed by the Managing Director (who was by this timeRespectability, competence, property in Bengal or anywhere very distant and respectful), and ascended the stairs, still precededby the porter, who cried as he went, ‘By your leaveelse, responsibility to any amount on the part of the companythat employed him, were all expressed in that one garment.MEN! In like manner, but in a still more stentorian voice, hethere! by your leave! The Chairman of the Board, Gentle—Rival offices had endeavoured to lure him away; Lombard ushered the chairman through the public office, where someStreet itself had beckoned to him; rich companies had whispered‘Be a Beadle!’ but he still continued faithful to the Anglo- ber, labelled Board-room; the door of which sanctuary im-humble clients were transacting business, into an awful cham-Bengalee. Whether he was a deep rogue, or a stately simpleton,it was impossible to make out, but he appeared to believe garmediately closed, and screened the great capitalist from vul-eyes.435

Martin ChuzzlewitThe board-room had a Turkey carpet in it, a sideboard, a ‘Jobling, my dear friend!’ said Mr Tigg, ‘how are you?portrait of Tigg Montague, Esquire, as chairman; a very imposingchair of office, garnished with an ivory hammer and a good fellow, I am glad to see you.’Bullamy, wait outside. Crimple, don’t leave us. Jobling, mylittle hand-bell; and a long table, set out at intervals with sheets ‘And how are you, Mr Montague, eh?’ said the Medicalof blotting-paper, foolscap, clean pens, and inkstands. The Officer, throwing himself luxuriously into an easy-chair (theychairman having taken his seat with great solemnity, the secretarysupported him on his right hand, and the porter stood some gold snuff-box from the pocket of his black satin waist-were all easy-chairs in the board-room), and taking a hand-bolt upright behind them, forming a warm background of coat. ‘How are you? A little worn with business, eh? If so,waistcoat. This was the board: everything else being a lightheartedlittle fiction.ing at all the matter, and quite comfortable? Then take somerest. A little feverish from wine, humph? If so, water. Noth-‘Bullamy!’ said Mr Tigg.lunch. A very wholesome thing at this time of day to‘Sir!’ replied the porter.strengthen the gastric juices with lunch, Mr Montague.’‘Let the Medical Officer know, with my compliments, that The Medical Officer (he was the same medical officer whoI wish to see him.’had followed poor old Anthony Chuzzlewit to the grave, andBullamy cleared his throat, and bustled out into the office, crying‘The Chairman of the Board wishes to see the Medical Officer. saying these words; and casually added, as he brushed somewho had attended Mrs Gamp’s patient at the Bull) smiled inBy your leave there! By your leave!’ He soon returned with the grains of snuff from his shirt-frill, ‘I always take it myselfgentleman in question; and at both openings of the board-room about this time of day, do you know!’door—at his coming in and at his going out—simple clients were ‘Bullamy!’ said the Chairman, ringing the little bell.seen to stretch their necks and stand upon their toes, thirsting to ‘Sir!’catch the slightest glimpse of that mysterious chamber.‘Lunch.’436

Charles Dickens‘Not on my account, I hope?’ said the doctor. ‘You are very ‘But I do mind,’ said David.good. Thank you. I’m quite ashamed. Ha, ha! if I had been a ‘I take a particular case, Mr Montague,’ returned the doctor,‘as illustrating my remark, you observe. In this portion ofsharp practitioner, Mr Montague, I shouldn’t have mentionedit without a fee; for you may depend upon it, my dear sir, Mr Crimple’s leg, sir, there is a certain amount of animal oil.that if you don’t make a point of taking lunch, you’ll very In every one of Mr Crimple’s joints, sir, there is more or lesssoon come under my hands. Allow me to illustrate this. In of the same deposit. Very good. If Mr Crimple neglects hisMr Crimple’s leg—’meals, or fails to take his proper quantity of rest, that oilThe resident Director gave an involuntary start, for the doctor,in the heat of his demonstration, caught it up and laid it Crimple’s bones sink down into their sockets, sir, and Mrwanes, and becomes exhausted. What is the consequence? Mracross his own, as if he were going to take it off, then and there. Crimple becomes a weazen, puny, stunted, miserable man!’‘In Mr Crimple’s leg, you’ll observe,’ pursued the doctor, The doctor let Mr Crimple’s leg fall suddenly, as if he wereturning back his cuffs and spanning the limb with both hands, already in that agreeable condition; turned down his wristbandsagain, and looked triumphantly at the chairman.‘where Mr Crimple’s knee fits into the socket, here, thereis—that is to say, between the bone and the socket—a certain ‘We know a few secrets of nature in our profession, sir,’ saidquantity of animal oil.’the doctor. ‘Of course we do. We study for that; we pass the‘What do you pick my leg out for?’ said Mr Crimple, lookingwith something of an anxious expression at his limb. ‘It’s ety by that. It’s extraordinary how little is known on these sub-Hall and the College for that; and we take our station in soci-the same with other legs, ain’t it?’jects generally. Where do you suppose, now’—the doctor closed‘Never you mind, my good sir,’ returned the doctor, shakinghis head, ‘whether it is the same with other legs, or not triangle with his hands, of which his two thumbs composedone eye, as he leaned back smilingly in his chair, and formed athe same.’the base—’where do you suppose Mr Crimple’s stomach is?’437

Martin ChuzzlewitMr Crimple, more agitated than before, clapped his hand ‘Ha!’ said the doctor, jocularly, as he rubbed his hands, andimmediately below his waistcoat.drew his chair nearer to the table. ‘The true Life Assurance,‘Not at all,’ cried the doctor; ‘not at all. Quite a popular Mr Montague. The best Policy in the world, my dear sir. Wemistake! My good sir, you’re altogether deceived.’should be provident, and eat and drink whenever we can. Eh,‘I feel it there, when it’s out of order; that’s all I know,’ said Mr Crimple?’Crimple.The resident Director acquiesced rather sulkily, as if the gratificationof replenishing his stomach had been impaired by‘You think you do,’ replied the doctor; ‘but science knowsbetter. There was a patient of mine once,’ touching one of the the unsettlement of his preconceived opinions in reference tomany mourning rings upon his fingers, and slightly bowing his its situation. But the appearance of the porter and under-porterwith a tray covered with a snow-white cloth, which, beinghead, ‘a gentleman who did me the honour to make a very handsomemention of me in his will—“in testimony,” as he was pleased thrown back, displayed a pair of cold roast fowls, flanked byto say, “of the unremitting zeal, talent, and attention of my friend some potted meats and a cool salad, quickly restored his goodand medical attendant, John Jobling, Esquire, M.R.C.S.,”—who humour. It was enhanced still further by the arrival of a bottlewas so overcome by the idea of having all his life laboured under of excellent madeira, and another of champagne; and he soonan erroneous view of the locality of this important organ, that attacked the repast with an appetite scarcely inferior to that ofwhen I assured him on my professional reputation, he was mistaken,he burst into tears, put out his hand, and said, “Jobling, The lunch was handsomely served, with a profusion of richthe medical officer.God bless you!” Immediately afterwards he became speechless, glass plate, and china; which seemed to denote that eatingand was ultimately buried at Brixton.’and drinking on a showy scale formed no unimportant item‘By your leave there!’ cried Bullamy, without. ‘By your leave! in the business of the Anglo-Bengalee Directorship. As it proceeded,the Medical Officer grew more and more joyous Refreshment for the Board-room!’and438

Charles Dickensred-faced, insomuch that every mouthful he ate, and every profit from it were considered, for the same reason, to bedrop of wine he swallowed, seemed to impart new lustre to something much too extensive for description. His femalehis eyes, and to light up new sparks in his nose and forehead. patients could never praise him too highly; and the coldest ofIn certain quarters of the City and its neighbourhood, Mr his male admirers would always say this for him to their friends,Jobling was, as we have already seen in some measure, a very ‘that whatever Jobling’s professional skill might be (and itpopular character. He had a portentously sagacious chin, and could not be denied that he had a very high reputation), hea pompous voice, with a rich huskiness in some of its tones was one of the most comfortable fellows you ever saw inthat went directly to the heart, like a ray of light shining your life!’through the ruddy medium of choice old burgundy. His neckerchiefand shirt-frill were ever of the whitest, his clothes of cause his connection lay principally among tradesmen andJobling was for many reasons, and not last in the list be-the blackest and sleekest, his gold watch-chain of the heaviest,and his seals of the largest. His boots, which were always Bengalee Company wanted for a medical officer. But Joblingtheir families, exactly the sort of person whom the Angloofthe brightest, creaked as he walked. Perhaps he could shake was far too knowing to connect himself with the company inhis head, rub his hands, or warm himself before a fire, better any closer ties than as a paid (and well paid) functionary, or tothan any man alive; and he had a peculiar way of smacking his allow his connection to be misunderstood abroad, if he couldlips and saying, ‘Ah!’ at intervals while patients detailed their help it. Hence he always stated the case to an inquiring patient,after this manner:symptoms, which inspired great confidence. It seemed to express,‘I know what you’re going to say better than you do; ‘Why, my dear sir, with regard to the Anglo-Bengalee, mybut go on, go on.’ As he talked on all occasions whether he information, you see, is limited; very limited. I am the medicalofficer, in consideration of a certain monthly payment.had anything to say or not, it was unanimously observed ofhim that he was ‘full of anecdote;’ and his experience and The labourer is worthy of his hire; bis dat qui cito dat’—439

Martin Chuzzlewit(‘classical scholar, Jobling!’ thinks the patient, ‘well-read scientiously report you a healthy subject. If I understand anyman!’)—‘and I receive it regularly. Therefore I am bound, so man’s constitution, it is yours; and this little indisposition hasfar as my own knowledge goes, to speak well of the establishment.’(‘Nothing can be fairer than Jobling’s conduct,’ thinks patient’s wife, ‘than if he had swallowed the contents of halfdone him more good, ma’am,’ says the doctor, turning to thethe patient, who has just paid Jobling’s bill himself.) ‘If you the nonsensical bottles in my surgery. For they are nonsense—put any question to me, my dear friend,’ says the doctor, to tell the honest truth, one half of them are nonsense—comparedwith such a constitution as his!’ (‘Jobling is the most‘touching the responsibility or capital of the company, there Iam at fault; for I have no head for figures, and not being a friendly creature I ever met with in my life,’ thinks the patient;‘and upon my word and honour, I’ll consider of it!’)shareholder, am delicate of showing any curiosity whateveron the subject. Delicacy—your amiable lady will agree with ‘Commission to you, doctor, on four new policies, and ame I am sure—should be one of the first characteristics of a loan this morning, eh?’ said Crimple, looking, when theymedical man.’ (‘Nothing can be finer or more gentlemanly had finished lunch, over some papers brought in by the porter.‘Well done!’than Jobling’s feeling,’ thinks the patient.) ‘Very good, mydear sir, so the matter stands. You don’t know Mr Montague? ‘Jobling, my dear friend,’ said Tigg, ‘long life to you.’I’m sorry for it. A remarkably handsome man, and quite the ‘No, no. Nonsense. Upon my word I’ve no right to drawgentleman in every respect. Property, I am told, in India. the commission,’ said the doctor, ‘I haven’t really. It’s pickingHouse and everything belonging to him, beautiful. Costly your pocket. I don’t recommend anybody here. I only sayfurniture on the most elegant and lavish scale. And pictures, what I know. My patients ask me what I know, and I tell ‘emwhich, even in an anatomical point of view, are per-fection. what I know. Nothing else. Caution is my weak side, that’sIn case you should ever think of doing anything with the the truth; and always was from a boy. That is,’ said the doctor,filling his glass, ‘caution in behalf of other people. company, I’ll pass you, you may depend upon it. I can con-Whether440

Charles DickensI would repose confidence in this company myself, if I had will not say that in the present case, for this gentleman is verynot been paying money elsewhere for many years—that’s quite far from it.’another question.’‘So much the better,’ retorted Tigg. ‘So much the moreHe tried to look as if there were no doubt about it; but feelingthat he did it but indifferently, changed the theme and take the things out by the other door. Mr Crimple, business.’adaptable to the Anglo-Bengalee. Bullamy, clear the table andpraised the wine.‘Shall I introduce him?’ asked Jobling.‘Talking of wine,’ said the doctor, ‘reminds me of one of ‘I shall be eternally delighted,’ answered Tigg, kissing histhe finest glasses of light old port I ever drank in my life; and hand and smiling sweetly.that was at a funeral. You have not seen anything of—of that The doctor disappeared into the outer office, and immediatelyreturned with Jonas Chuzzlewit.party, Mr Montague, have you?’ handing him a card.‘He is not buried, I hope?’ said Tigg, as he took it. ‘The ‘Mr Montague,’ said Jobling. ‘Allow me. My friend Mrhonour of his company is not requested if he is.’Chuzzlewit. My dear friend—our chairman. Now do you‘Ha, ha!’ laughed the doctor. ‘No; not quite. He was know,’ he added checking himself with infinite policy, andhonourably connected with that very occasion though.’ looking round with a smile; ‘that’s a very singular instance of‘Oh!’ said Tigg, smoothing his moustache, as he cast his the force of example. It really is a very remarkable instance ofeyes upon the name. ‘I recollect. No. He has not been here.’ the force of example. I say our chairman. Why do I say ourThe words were on his lips, when Bullamy entered, and chairman? Because he is not MY chairman, you know. I havepresented a card to the Medical Officer.no connection with the company, farther than giving them,‘Talk of the what’s his name—’ observed the doctor rising. for a certain fee and reward, my poor opinion as a medical‘And he’s sure to appear, eh?’ said Tigg.man, precisely as I may give it any day to Jack Noakes or‘Why, no, Mr Montague, no,’ returned the doctor. ‘We Tom Styles. Then why do I say our chairman? Simply because441

Martin ChuzzlewitI hear the phrase constantly repeated about me. Such is the With these words Jobling bolted abruptly out of the room,involuntary operation of the mental faculty in the imitative and proceeded in his own official department, to impress thebiped man. Mr Crimple, I believe you never take snuff? Injudicious.You should.’the discharge of his duty, and the great difficulty of gettinglives in waiting with a sense of his keen conscientiousness inPending these remarks on the part of the doctor, and the into the Anglo-Bengalee; by feeling their pulses, looking atlengthened and sonorous pinch with which he followed them their tongues, listening at their ribs, poking them in the chest,up, Jonas took a seat at the board; as ungainly a man as ever he and so forth; though, if he didn’t well know beforehand thathas been within the reader’s knowledge. It is too common with whatever kind of lives they were, the Anglo-Bengalee wouldall of us, but it is especially in the nature of a mean mind, to be accept them readily, he was far from being the Jobling thatoverawed by fine clothes and fine furniture. They had a very his friend considered him; and was not the original Jobling,decided influence on Jonas.but a spurious imitation.‘Now you two gentlemen have business to discuss, I know,’ Mr Crimple also departed on the business of the morning;said the doctor, ‘and your time is precious. So is mine; for and Jonas Chuzzlewit and Tigg were left alone.several lives are waiting for me in the next room, and I have a ‘I learn from our friend,’ said Tigg, drawing his chair towardsJonas with a winning ease of manner, ‘that you haveround of visits to make after—after I have taken ‘em. Havinghad the happiness to introduce you to each other, I may go been thinking—’about my business. Good-bye. But allow me, Mr Montague, ‘Oh! Ecod then he’d no right to say so,’ cried Jonas, interrupting.‘I didn’t tell him my thoughts. If he took it into hisbefore I go, to say this of my friend who sits beside you: Thatgentleman has done more, sir,’ rapping his snuff-box solemnly, head that I was coming here for such or such a purpose, why,‘to reconcile me to human nature, than any man alive or dead. that’s his lookout. I don’t stand committed by that.’Good-bye!’Jonas said this offensively enough; for over and above the442

Charles Dickenshabitual distrust of his character, it was in his nature to seek preferred any claim to high and honourable dealing, Jonasto revenge himself on the fine clothes and the fine furniture, would have suspected him though he had been a very model ofin exact proportion as he had been unable to withstand their probity; but when he gave utterance to Jonas’s own thoughtsinfluence.of everything and everybody, Jonas began to feel that he was a‘If I come here to ask a question or two, and get a documentor two to consider of, I don’t bind myself to anything. He changed his position in the chair, not for a less awk-pleasant fellow, and one to be talked to freely.Let’s understand that, you know,’ said Jonas.ward, but for a more boastful attitude; and smiling in his‘My dear fellow!’ cried Tigg, clapping him on the shoulder, miserable conceit rejoined:‘I applaud your frankness. If men like you and I speak openly ‘You an’t a bad man of business, Mr Montague. You knowat first, all possible misunderstanding is avoided. Why should how to set about it, I will say.’I disguise what you know so well, but what the crowd never ‘Tut, tut,’ said Tigg, nodding confidentially, and showing hisdream of? We companies are all birds of prey; mere birds of white teeth; ‘we are not children, Mr Chuzzlewit; we are grownprey. The only question is, whether in serving our own turn, men, I hope.’we can serve yours too; whether in double-lining our own Jonas assented, and said after a short silence, first spreadingnest, we can put a single living into yours. Oh, you’re in our out his legs, and sticking one arm akimbo to show how perfectlyat home he was,secret. You’re behind the scenes. We’ll make a merit of dealingplainly with you, when we know we can’t help it.’‘The truth is—’It was remarked, on the first introduction of Mr Jonas into ‘Don’t say, the truth,’ interposed Tigg, with another grin.these pages, that there is a simplicity of cunning no less than a ‘It’s so like humbug.’simplicity of innocence, and that in all matters involving a faith Greatly charmed by this, Jonas began again.in knavery, he was the most credulous of men. If Mr Tigg had ‘The long and the short of it is—’443

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Better,’ muttered Tigg. ‘Much better!’as she’s young. But one never knows what may happen to these‘—That I didn’t consider myself very well used by one or women, so I’m thinking of insuring her life. It is but fair, youtwo of the old companies in some negotiations I have had know, that a man should secure some consolation in case ofwith ‘em—once had, I mean. They started objections they meeting with such a loss.’had no right to start, and put questions they had no right to ‘If anything can console him under such heart-breaking circumstances,’murmured Tigg, with his eyes shut up as before.put, and carried things much too high for my taste.’As he made these observations he cast down his eyes, and looked ‘Exactly,’ returned Jonas; ‘if anything can. Now, supposingcuriously at the carpet. Mr Tigg looked curiously at him. I did it here, I should do it cheap, I know, and easy, withoutHe made so long a pause, that Tigg came to the rescue, and bothering her about it; which I’d much rather not do, for it’ssaid, in his pleasantest manner:just in a woman’s way to take it into her head, if you talk to‘Take a glass of wine.’her about such things, that she’s going to die directly.’‘No, no,’ returned Jonas, with a cunning shake of the head; ‘So it is,’ cried Tigg, kissing his hand in honour of the sex.‘none of that, thankee. No wine over business. All very well ‘You’re quite right. Sweet, silly, fluttering little simpletons!’for you, but it wouldn’t do for me.’‘Well,’ said Jonas, ‘on that account, you know, and because‘What an old hand you are, Mr Chuzzlewit!’ said Tigg, leaningback in his chair, and leering at him through his half-shut patronizing this Company. But I want to know what sort ofoffence has been given me in other quarters, I wouldn’t mindeyes.security there is for the Company’s going on. That’s the—’Jonas shook his head again, as much as to say, ‘You’re right ‘Not the truth?’ cried Tigg, holding up his jewelled hand.there;’ And then resumed, jocosely:‘Don’t use that Sunday School expression, please!’‘Not such an old hand, either, but that I’ve been and got ‘The long and the short of it,’ said Jonas. ‘The long and themarried. That’s rather green, you’ll say. Perhaps it is, especially short of it is, what’s the security?’444

Charles Dickens‘The paid-up capital, my dear sir,’ said Tigg, referring to ‘Yes,’ cried Tigg, ‘when there was a very charming and delightfullittle family party, at which yourself and your respected fathersome papers on the table, ‘is, at this present moment—’‘Oh! I understand all about paid-up capitals, you know,’ assisted.’said Jonas.‘Well, never mind him,’ said Jonas. ‘He’s dead, and there’s‘You do?’ cried Tigg, stopping short.no help for it.’‘I should hope so.’‘Dead, is he!’ cried Tigg, ‘Venerable old gentleman, is heHe turned the papers down again, and moving nearer to dead! You’re very like him.’him, said in his ear:Jonas received this compliment with anything but a good‘I know you do. I know you do. Look at me!’grace, perhaps because of his own private sentiments in referenceto the personal appearance of his deceased parent; per-It was not much in Jonas’s way to look straight at anybody;but thus requested, he made shift to take a tolerable survey of haps because he was not best pleased to find that Montaguethe chairman’s features. The chairman fell back a little, to give and Tigg were one. That gentleman perceived it, and tappinghim the better opportunity.him familiarly on the sleeve, beckoned him to the window.‘You know me?’ he inquired, elevating his eyebrows. ‘You From this moment, Mr Montague’s jocularity and flow ofrecollect? You’ve seen me before?’spirits were remarkable.‘Why, I thought I remembered your face when I first came in,’ ‘Do you find me at all changed since that time?’ he asked.said Jonas, gazing at it; ‘but I couldn’t call to mind where I had ‘Speak plainly.’seen it. No. I don’t remember, even now. Was it in the street?’ Jonas looked hard at his waistcoat and jewels; and said‘Was it in Pecksniff’s parlour?’ said Tigg‘Rather, ecod!’‘In Pecksniff’s parlour!’ echoed Jonas, fetching a long breath. ‘Was I at all seedy in those days?’ asked Montague.‘You don’t mean when—’‘Precious seedy,’ said Jonas.445

Martin ChuzzlewitMr Montague pointed down into the street, where Bailey Jonas looked at him harder and harder.and the cab were in attendance.‘I can tell you,’ said Tigg in his ear, ‘how many of ‘em will‘Neat; perhaps dashing. Do you know whose it is?’ buy annuities, effect insurances, bring us their money in a‘No.’hundred shapes and ways, force it upon us, trust us as if we‘Mine. Do you like this room?’were the Mint; yet know no more about us than you do of‘It must have cost a lot of money,’ said Jonas.that crossing-sweeper at the corner. Not so much. Ha, ha!’‘You’re right. Mine too. Why don’t you’—he whispered this, Jonas gradually broke into a smile.and nudged him in the side with his elbow—’why don’t you ‘Yah!’ said Montague, giving him a pleasant thrust in thetake premiums, instead of paying ‘em? That’s what a man breast; ‘you’re too deep for us, you dog, or I wouldn’t havelike you should do. Join us!’told you. Dine with me to-morrow, in Pall Mall!’Jonas stared at him in amazement.‘I will’ said Jonas.‘Is that a crowded street?’ asked Montague, calling his attentionto the multitude without.you and look ‘em over. See,’ he said, snatching some printed‘Done!’ cried Montague. ‘Wait a bit. Take these papers with‘Very,’ said Jonas, only glancing at it, and immediately afterwardslooking at him again.artist, author, any common thing you like.’forms from the table. ‘B is a little tradesman, clerk, parson,‘There are printed calculations,’ said his companion, ‘which ‘Yes,’ said Jonas, looking greedily over his shoulder. ‘Well!’will tell you pretty nearly how many people will pass up and ‘B wants a loan. Say fifty or a hundred pound; perhapsdown that thoroughfare in the course of a day. I can tell you more; no matter. B proposes self and two securities. B is accepted.Two securities give a bond. B assures his own life forhow many of ‘em will come in here, merely because they findthis office here; knowing no more about it than they do of double the amount, and brings two friends’ lives also—justthe Pyramids. Ha, ha! Join us. You shall come in cheap.’ to patronize the office. Ha ha, ha! Is that a good notion?’446

Charles Dickens‘Ecod, that’s a capital notion!’ cried Jonas. ‘But does he said Tigg, pointing to the cabriolet, ‘and a thoroughbred horsereally do it?’he is. Ha, ha, ha!’‘Do it!’ repeated the chairman. ‘B’s hard up, my good fellow,and will do anything. Don’t you see? It’s my idea.’ his peculiar vein of humour.Jonas enjoyed this joke very much indeed. It was quite in‘It does you honour. I’m blest if it don’t,’ said Jonas. ‘Then,’ said Tigg Montague, ‘we grant annuities on the very‘I think it does,’ replied the chairman, ‘and I’m proud to lowest and most advantageous terms known in the moneyhear you say so. B pays the highest lawful interest—’ market; and the old ladies and gentlemen down in the countrybuy ‘em. Ha, ha, ha! And we pay ‘em too—perhaps. Ha,‘That an’t much,’ interrupted Jonas.‘Right! quite right!’ retorted Tigg. ‘And hard it is upon the ha, ha!’part of the law that it should be so confoundedly down upon ‘But there’s responsibility in that,’ said Jonas, lookingus unfortunate victims; when it takes such amazing good interestfor itself from all its clients. But charity begins at home, ‘I take it all myself,’ said Tigg Montague. ‘Here I am re-doubtful.and justice begins next door. Well! The law being hard upon sponsible for everything. The only responsible person in theus, we’re not exactly soft upon B; for besides charging B the establishment! Ha, ha, ha! Then there are the Life Assurancesregular interest, we get B’s premium, and B’s friends’ premiums,and we charge B for the bond, and, whether we accept comfortable. Money down, you know; repeated every year;without loans; the common policies. Very profitable, veryhim or not, we charge B for “inquiries” (we keep a man, at a capital fun!’pound a week, to make ‘em), and we charge B a trifle for the ‘But when they begin to fall in,’ observed Jonas. ‘It’s allsecretary; and in short, my good fellow, we stick it into B, up very well, while the office is young, but when the policieshill and down dale, and make a devilish comfortable little begin to die—that’s what I am thinking of.’property out of him. Ha, ha, ha! I drive B, in point of fact,’ ‘At the first start, my dear fellow,’ said Montague, ‘to show447

Martin Chuzzlewityou how correct your judgment is, we had a couple of unluckydeaths that brought us down to a grand piano.’ join us!’‘Seven. Here’s my card. Take the documents. I see you’ll‘Brought you down where?’ cried Jonas.‘I don’t know about that,’ said Jonas. ‘There’s a good deal‘I give you my sacred word of honour,’ said Tigg Montague, to be looked into first.’‘that I raised money on every other individual piece of property,and was left alone in the world with a grand piano. And ‘into anything and everything you please. But you’ll join us, I‘You shall look,’ said Montague, slapping him on the back,it was an upright-grand too, so that I couldn’t even sit upon am convinced. You were made for it. Bullamy!’it. But, my dear fellow, we got over it. We granted a great Obedient to the summons and the little bell, the waistcoatmany new policies that week (liberal allowance to solicitors, appeared. Being charged to show Jonas out, it went before;by the bye), and got over it in no time. Whenever they should and the voice within it cried, as usual, ‘By your leave there, bychance to fall in heavily, as you very justly observe they may, your leave! Gentleman from the board-room, by your leave!’one of these days; then—’ he finished the sentence in so low Mr Montague being left alone, pondered for some moments,and then said, raising his voice:a whisper, that only one disconnected word was audible, andthat imperfectly. But it sounded like ‘Bolt.’‘Is Nadgett in the office there?’‘Why, you’re as bold as brass!’ said Jonas, in the utmost admiration.board-room door after him, as carefully as if he were about to‘Here he is, sir.’ And he promptly entered; shutting the‘A man can well afford to be as bold as brass, my good plot a murder.fellow, when he gets gold in exchange!’ cried the chairman, He was the man at a pound a week who made the inquiries.with a laugh that shook him from head to foot. ‘You’ll dine It was no virtue or merit in Nadgett that he transacted all hiswith me to-morrow?’Anglo-Bengalee business secretly and in the closest confidence;‘At what time?’ asked Jonas.for he was born to be a secret. He was a short, dried-up, with-448

Charles Dickensered old man, who seemed to have secreted his very blood; said he had been a bankrupt, others that he had gone an infantinto an ancient Chancery suit which was still depending,for nobody would have given him credit for the possession ofsix ounces of it in his whole body. How he lived was a secret; but it was all a secret. He carried bits of sealing-wax and awhere he lived was a secret; and even what he was, was a secret.In his musty old pocket-book he carried contradictory cretly indited letters in corner boxes of the trysting-places be-hieroglyphical old copper seal in his pocket, and often se-cards, in some of which he called himself a coal-merchant, in fore mentioned; but they never appeared to go to anybody,others a wine-merchant, in others a commission-agent, in others for he would put them into a secret place in his coat, anda collector, in others an accountant; as if he really didn’t know deliver them to himself weeks afterwards, very much to histhe secret himself. He was always keeping appointments in own surprise, quite yellow. He was that sort of man that if hethe City, and the other man never seemed to come. He would had died worth a million of money, or had died worthsit on ‘Change for hours, looking at everybody who walked twopence halfpenny, everybody would have been perfectlyin and out, and would do the like at Garraway’s, and in other satisfied, and would have said it was just as they expected.business coffee-rooms, in some of which he would be occasionallyseen drying a very damp pocket-handkerchief before who are secrets as profound to one another, as they are to theAnd yet he belonged to a class; a race peculiar to the City;the fire, and still looking over his shoulder for the man who rest of mankind.never appeared. He was mildewed, threadbare, shabby; alwayshad flue upon his legs and back; and kept his linen so address upon a piece of paper, from the card which was still‘Mr Nadgett,’ said Montague, copying Jonas Chuzzlewit’ssecretly buttoning up and wrapping over, that he might have lying on the table, ‘any information about this name, I shallhad none—perhaps he hadn’t. He carried one stained beaver be glad to have myself. Don’t you mind what it is. Any youglove, which he dangled before him by the forefinger as he can scrape together, bring me. Bring it to me, Mr Nadgett.’walked or sat; but even its fellow was a secret. Some people Nadgett put on his spectacles, and read the name atten-449

Martin Chuzzlewittively; then looked at the chairman over his glasses, and bowed;CHAPTER TWENTYthentook them off, and put them in their case; and then putthe case in his pocket. When he had done so, he looked, withouthis spectacles, at the paper as it lay before him, and at theEIGHTsame time produced his pocket-book from somewhere about MR MONTAGUE AT HOME.the middle of his spine. Large as it was, it was very full of AND MR JONAS CHUZZLEWIT AT HOMEdocuments, but he found a place for this one; and havingclasped it carefully, passed it by a kind of solemn legerdemainTHERE WERE MANY powerful reasons for Jonas Chuzzlewitinto the same region as before.being strongly prepossessed in favour of the scheme which itsHe withdrew with another bow and without a word; openingthe door no wider than was sufficient for his passage out; among them stood prominently forward. Firstly, there wasgreat originator had so boldly laid open to him; but threeand shutting it as carefully as before. The chairman of the money to be made by it. Secondly, the money had the peculiarcharm of being sagaciously obtained at other people’s cost.board employed the rest of the morning in affixing his signmanualof gracious acceptance to various new proposals of Thirdly, it involved much outward show of homage and distinction:a board being an awful institution in its own sphere,annuity-purchase and assurance. The Company was lookingup, for they flowed in gayly.and a director a mighty man. ‘To make a swingeing profit,have a lot of chaps to order about, and get into regular goodsociety by one and the same means, and them so easy to one’shand, ain’t such a bad look-out,’ thought Jonas. The latterconsiderations were only second to his avarice; for, consciousthat there was nothing in his person, conduct, character, or450

Charles Dickensaccomplishments, to command respect, he was greedy of ‘I should hope he wos at home, and waiting dinner, too,’power, and was, in his heart, as much a tyrant as any laureled said Bailey, with the ease of an old acquaintance. ‘Will youconqueror on record.take your hat up along with you, or leave it here?’But he determined to proceed with cunning and caution, Mr Jonas preferred leaving it there.and to be very keen on his observation of the gentility of Mr ‘The hold name, I suppose?’ said Bailey, with a grin.Montague’s private establishment. For it no more occurred Mr Jonas stared at him in mute indignation.to this shallow knave that Montague wanted him to be so, or ‘What, don’t you remember hold mother Todgers’s?’ saidhe wouldn’t have invited him while his decision was yet in Mr Bailey, with his favourite action of the knees and boots.abeyance, than the possibility of that genius being able to ‘Don’t you remember my taking your name up to the youngoverreach him in any way, pierced through his self-deceit by ladies, when you came a-courting there? A reg’lar scaly oldthe inlet of a needle’s point. He had said, in the outset, that shop, warn’t it? Times is changed ain’t they. I say how you’veJonas was too sharp for him; and Jonas, who would have growed!’been sharp enough to believe him in nothing else, though he Without pausing for any acknowledgement of this compliment,he ushered the visitor upstairs, and having announcedhad solemnly sworn it, believed him in that, instantly.It was with a faltering hand, and yet with an imbecile attemptat a swagger, that he knocked at his new friend’s door The lower story of the house was occupied by a wealthyhim, retired with a private wink.in Pall Mall when the appointed hour arrived. Mr Bailey tradesman, but Mr Montague had all the upper portion, andquickly answered to the summons. He was not proud and splendid lodging it was. The room in which he received Jonaswas kindly disposed to take notice of Jonas; but Jonas had was a spacious and elegant apartment, furnished with extremeforgotten him.magnificence; decorated with pictures, copies from the antiquein alabaster and marble, china vases, lofty mirrors, ‘Mr Montague at home?’crim-451

Martin Chuzzlewitson hangings of the richest silk, gilded carvings, luxurious ‘Well!’ said Wolf, folding his arms and resuming a conversationwhich the arrival of Jonas had interrupted. ‘And whatcouches, glistening cabinets inlaid with precious woods; costlytoys of every sort in negligent abundance. The only guests did Lord Nobley say to that?’besides Jonas were the doctor, the resident Director, and two ‘Why,’ returned Pip, with an oath. ‘He didn’t know whatother gentlemen, whom Montague presented in due form. to say. Same, sir, if he wasn’t as mute as a poker. But you‘My dear friend, I am delighted to see you. Jobling you know what a good fellow Nobley is!’know, I believe?’‘The best fellow in the world!’ cried Wolf. ‘It as only last‘I think so,’ said the doctor pleasantly, as he stepped out of week that Nobley said to me, “By Gad, Wolf, I’ve got a livingto bestow, and if you had but been brought up at thethe circle to shake hands. ‘I trust I have the honour. I hope so.My dear sir, I see you well. Quite well? That’s well!’ University, strike me blind if I wouldn’t have made a parson‘Mr Wolf,’ said Montague, as soon as the doctor would of you!”’allow him to introduce the two others, ‘Mr Chuzzlewit. Mr ‘Just like him,’ said Pip with another oath. ‘And he’d havePip, Mr Chuzzlewit.’done it!’Both gentlemen were exceedingly happy to have the honour ‘Not a doubt of it,’ said Wolf. ‘But you were going to tellof making Mr Chuzzlewit’s acquaintance. The doctor drew us—’Jonas a little apart, and whispered behind his hand:‘Oh, yes!’ cried Pip. ‘To be sure. So I was. At first he was‘Men of the world, my dear sir—men of the world. Hem! dumb—sewn up, dead, sir—but after a minute he said to theMr Wolf —literary character—you needn’t mention it—remarkablyclever weekly paper—oh, remarkably clever! Mr Pip. He knows.” “Damme!” said the Duke, “I appeal to PipDuke, “Here’s Pip. Ask Pip. Pip’s our mutual friend. AskPip—theatrical man—capital man to know—oh, capital then. Come, Pip. Bandy or not bandy? Speak out!” “Bandy,man!’your Grace, by the Lord Harry!” said I. “Ha, ha!” laughed the452

Charles DickensDuke. “To be sure she is. Bravo, Pip. Well said Pip. I wish I ‘Positively, you know, that’s—ha, ha, ha!’ observed the doctor,laying down his knife and fork for one instant, and thenmay die if you’re not a trump, Pip. Pop me down amongyour fashionable visitors whenever I’m in town, Pip.” And so going to work again, pell-mell—’that’s epigrammatic; quite!’I do, to this day.’‘You’re tolerably comfortable, I hope?’ said Tigg, apart toThe conclusion of this story gave immense satisfaction, Jonas.which was in no degree lessened by the announcement of ‘Oh! You needn’t trouble your head about ME,’ he replied,dinner. Jonas repaired to the dining room, along with his ‘Famous!’distinguished host, and took his seat at the board between ‘I thought it best not to have a party,’ said Tigg. ‘You feelthat individual and his friend the doctor. The rest fell into that?’their places like men who were well accustomed to the house; ‘Why, what do you call this?’ retorted Jonas. ‘You don’tand dinner was done full justice to, by all parties.mean to say you do this every day, do you?’It was a good a one as money (or credit, no matter which) ‘My dear fellow,’ said Montague, shrugging his shoulders,could produce. The dishes, wines, and fruits were of the choicestkind. Everything was elegantly served. The plate was gormonstyle. It was of no use having anything uncommon for‘every day of my life, when I dine at home. This is my comgeous.Mr Jonas was in the midst of a calculation of the value you. You’d have seen through it. “You’ll have a party?” saidof this item alone, when his host disturbed him.Crimple. “No, I won’t,” I said. “he shall take us in the rough!”‘A glass of wine?’‘And pretty smooth, too, ecod!’ said Jonas, glancing round‘Oh!’ said Jonas, who had had several glasses already. ‘As the table. ‘This don’t cost a trifle.’much of that as you like! It’s too good to refuse.’‘Why, to be candid with you, it does not,’ returned the‘Well said, Mr Chuzzlewit!’ cried Wolf.other. ‘But I like this sort of thing. It’s the way I spend my‘Tom Gag, upon my soul!’ said Pip.money.’453

Martin ChuzzlewitJonas thrust his tongue into his cheek, and said, ‘Was it?’ an incontestable proof of Mr Jonas’s greatness. Pip, in a naturalspirit of emulation, then related some instances of his own‘When you join us, you won’t get rid of your share of theprofits in the same way?’ said Tigg.depth; and Wolf not to be left behind-hand, recited the leadingpoints of one or two vastly humorous articles he was then‘Quite different,’ retorted Jonas.‘Well, and you’re right,’ said Tigg, with friendly candour. preparing. These lucubrations being of what he called ‘a warm‘You needn’t. It’s not necessary. One of a Company must do complexion,’ were highly approved; and all the companyit to hold the connection together; but, as I take a pleasure in agreed that they were full of point.it, that’s my department. You don’t mind dining expensively ‘Men of the world, my dear sir,’ Jobling whispered to Jonas;at another man’s expense, I hope?’‘thorough men of the world! To a professional person like myselfit’s quite refreshing to come into this kind of society. It’s not‘Not a bit,’ said Jonas.‘Then I hope you’ll often dine with me?’only agreeable—and nothing can be more agreeable—but it’s‘Ah!’ said Jonas, ‘I don’t mind. On the contrary.’philosophically improving. It’s character, my dear sir; character!’‘And I’ll never attempt to talk business to you over wine, I It is so pleasant to find real merit appreciated, whatever itstake my oath,’ said Tigg. ‘Oh deep, deep, deep of you this particular walk in life may be, that the general harmony ofmorning! I must tell ‘em that. They’re the very men to enjoy the company was doubtless much promoted by their knowingthat the two men of the world were held in great esteemit. Pip, my good fellow, I’ve a splendid little trait to tell youof my friend Chuzzlewit who is the deepest dog I know; I by the upper classes of society, and by the gallant defenders ofgive you my sacred word of honour he is the deepest dog I their country in the army and navy, but particularly the former.know, Pip!’The least of their stories had a colonel in it; lords were asPip swore a frightful oath that he was sure of it already; and plentiful as oaths; and even the Blood Royal ran in the muddythe anecdote, being told, was received with loud applause, as channel of their personal recollections.454

Charles Dickens‘Mr Chuzzlewit didn’t know him, I’m afraid,’ said Wolf, in it all about, Pip? There’s a lot of feet in Shakspeare’s verse,reference to a certain personage of illustrious descent, who but there an’t any legs worth mentioning in Shakspeare’s plays,had previously figured in a reminiscence.are there, Pip? Juliet, Desdemona, Lady Macbeth, and all the‘No,’ said Tigg. ‘But we must bring him into contact with rest of ‘em, whatever their names are, might as well have nothis sort of fellows.’legs at all, for anything the audience know about it, Pip. Why,‘He was very fond of literature,’ observed Wolf.in that respect they’re all Miss Biffins to the audience, Pip. I’ll‘Was he?’ said Tigg.tell you what it is. What the people call dramatic poetry is a‘Oh, yes; he took my paper regularly for many years. Do collection of sermons. Do I go to the theatre to be lectured?you know he said some good things now and then? He asked No, Pip. If I wanted that, I’d go to church. What’s the legitimateobject of the drama, Pip? Human nature. What are legs?a certain Viscount, who’s a friend of mine—Pip knows him—”What’s the editor’s name, what’s the editor’s name?” “Wolf.” Human nature. Then let us have plenty of leg pieces, Pip, and“Wolf, eh? Sharp biter, Wolf. We must keep the Wolf from I’ll stand by you, my buck!” and I am proud to say,’ addedthe door, as the proverb says. It was very well. And being Pip, ‘that he DID stand by me, handsomely.’complimentary, I printed it.’The conversation now becoming general, Mr Jonas’s opinionwas requested on this subject; and as it was in full accor-‘But the Viscount’s the boy!’ cried Pip, who invented anew oath for the introduction of everything he said. ‘The dance with the sentiments of Mr Pip, that gentleman wasViscount’s the boy! He came into our place one night to take extremely gratified. Indeed, both himself and Wolf had soHer home; rather slued, but not much; and said, “Where’s much in common with Jonas, that they became very amicable;and between their increasing friendship and the fumesPip? I want to see Pip. Produce Pip!”—“What’s the row, mylord?”—“Shakspeare’s an infernal humbug, Pip! What’s the of wine, Jonas grew talkative.good of Shakspeare, Pip? I never read him. What the devil is It does not follow in the case of such a person that the more455

Martin Chuzzlewittalkative he becomes, the more agreeable he is; on the contrary,his merits show to most advantage, perhaps, in silence. doctor’s philosophical knowledge (by the way, the doctor slippedWhether the two gentlemen who contributed so much to theHaving no means, as he thought, of putting himself on an off quietly, after swallowing his usual amount of wine) had hadequality with the rest, but by the assertion of that depth and their cue distinctly from the host, or took it from what they sawsharpness on which he had been complimented, Jonas exhibitedthat faculty to the utmost; and was so deep and sharp honour of Jonas’s better acquaintance; trusted that they wouldand heard, they acted their parts very well. They solicited thethat he lost himself in his own profundity, and cut his fingers have the pleasure of introducing him into that elevated society inwith his own edge-tools.which he was so well qualified to shine; and informed him, inIt was especially in his way and character to exhibit his qualityat his entertainer’s expense; and while he drank of his spar-establishments were entirely at his control. In a word, they saidthe most friendly manner that the advantages of their respectivekling wines, and partook of his monstrous profusion, to ridiculethe extravagance which had set such costly fare before and he would be; adding within himself, that so long as they‘Be one of us!’ And Jonas said he was infinitely obliged to them,him. Even at such a wanton board, and in such more than ‘stood treat,’ there was nothing he would like better.doubtful company, this might have proved a disagreeable experiment,but that Tigg and Crimple, studying to understand a short interval (mainly sustained by Pip and Wolf) of conversa-After coffee, which was served in the drawing-room, there wastheir man thoroughly, gave him what license he chose: knowingthat the more he took, the better for their purpose. And Jonas took it up and showed considerable humour in appraisingtion; rather highly spiced and strongly seasoned. When it flagged,thus while the blundering cheat—gull that he was, for all his the furniture; inquiring whether such an article was paid for; whatcunning—thought himself rolled up hedgehog fashion, with it had originally cost, and the like. In all of this, he was, as hehis sharpest points towards them, he was, in fact, betraying considered, desperately hard on Montague, and very demonstrativeof his own brilliant all his vulnerable parts to their unwinking watchfulness.parts.456

Charles DickensSome Champagne Punch gave a new though temporary Here’s the boy! Now Mr Bailey, take this gentleman home,fillip to the entertainments of the evening. For after leading and see him safely in. Hallo, here! Why Chuzzlewit, halloa!’to some noisy proceedings, which were not intelligible, it They got him upright with some difficulty, and assistedended in the unsteady departure of the two gentlemen of the him downstairs, where they put his hat upon his head, andworld, and the slumber of Mr Jonas upon one of the sofas. tumbled him into the coach. Mr Bailey, having shut him in,As he could not be made to understand where he was, Mr mounted the box beside the coachman, and smoked his cigarBailey received orders to call a hackney-coach, and take him with an air of particular satisfaction; the undertaking in whichhome; which that young gentleman roused himself from an he was engaged having a free and sporting character about it,uneasy sleep in the hall to do. It being now almost three which was quite congenial to his taste.o’clock in the morning.Arriving in due time at the house in the City, Mr Bailey jumped‘Is he hooked, do you think?’ whispered Crimple, as himselfand partner stood in a distant part of the room observing like of which had probably not been heard in that quarter since thedown, and expressed the lively nature of his feelings in a knock thehim as he lay.great fire of London. Going out into the road to observe the effect‘Aye!’ said Tigg, in the same tone. ‘With a strong iron, perhaps.Has Nadgett been here to-night?’window, had been already removed and was travelling downstairs.of this feat, he saw that a dim light, previously visible at an upper‘Yes. I went out to him. Hearing you had company, he To obtain a foreknowledge of the bearer of this taper, Mr Baileywent away.’skipped back to the door again, and put his eye to the keyhole.‘Why did he do that?’It was the merry one herself. But sadly, strangely altered! So‘He said he would come back early in the morning, before careworn and dejected, so faltering and full of fear; so fallen,you were out of bed.’humbled, broken; that to have seen her quiet in her coffin would‘Tell them to be sure and send him up to my bedside. Hush! have been a less surprise.457

Martin ChuzzlewitShe set the light upon a bracket in the hall, and laid her ‘No,’ she said, faintly.hand upon her heart; upon her eyes; upon her burning head. ‘Oh yes! We’re heavy swells too, and so I tell you. Don’tThen she came on towards the door with such a wild and you come out, a-catching cold in your head. I’ll wake him!’hurried step that Mr Bailey lost his self-possession, and still Mr Bailey expressing in his demeanour a perfect confidencehad his eye where the keyhole had been, when she opened it. that he could carry him in with ease, if necessary, opened the‘Aha!’ said Mr Bailey, with an effort. ‘There you are, are coach door, let down the steps, and giving Jonas a shake, criedyou? What’s the matter? Ain’t you well, though?’‘We’ve got home, my flower! Tumble up, then!’In the midst of her astonishment as she recognized him in He was so far recovered as to be able to respond to thishis altered dress, so much of her old smile came back to her appeal, and to come stumbling out of the coach in a heap, toface that Bailey was glad. But next moment he was sorry again, the great hazard of Mr Bailey’s person. When he got upon thefor he saw tears standing in her poor dim eyes.pavement, Mr Bailey first butted at him in front, and then‘Don’t be frightened,’ said Bailey. ‘There ain’t nothing the dexterously propped him up behind; and having steadied himmatter. I’ve brought home Mr Chuzzlewit. He ain’t ill. He’s by these means, he assisted him into the house.only a little swipey, you know.’ Mr Bailey reeled in his boots, ‘You go up first with the light,’ said Bailey to Mr Jonas,to express intoxication.‘and we’ll foller. Don’t tremble so. He won’t hurt you. When‘Have you come from Mrs Todgers’s?’ asked Merry, trembling.She went on before; and her husband and Bailey, by dint of tum-I’ve had a drop too much, I’m full of good natur myself.’‘Todgers’s, bless you! No!’ cried Mr Bailey. ‘I haven’t got bling over each other, and knocking themselves about, got at lastnothin, to do with Todgers’s. I cut that connection long ago. into the sitting-room above stairs, where Jonas staggered into a seat.He’s been a-dining with my governor at the west-end. Didn’t ‘There!’ said Mr Bailey. ‘He’s all right now. You ain’t gotyou know he was a-coming to see us?’nothing to cry for, bless you! He’s righter than a trivet!’458

Charles DickensThe ill-favoured brute, with dress awry, and sodden face, ‘I wouldn’t say it if I was sober!’ retorted Jonas. ‘You knowand rumpled hair, sat blinking and drooping, and rolling his better. Have I never said it when I was sober?’idiotic eyes about, until, becoming conscious by degrees, he ‘Often, indeed!’ she answered through her tears.recognized his wife, and shook his fist at her.‘Hark ye!’ cried Jonas, stamping his foot upon the ground.‘Ah!’ cried Mr Bailey, squaring his arms with a sudden emotion. ‘You made me bear your pretty humours once, and ecod I’ll‘What, you’re wicious, are you? Would you though! You’d better not!’ make you bear mine now. I always promised myself I would.‘Pray, go away!’ said Merry. ‘Bailey, my good boy, go home. I married you that I might. I’ll know who’s master, and who’sJonas!’ she said; timidly laying her hand upon his shoulder, slave!’and bending her head down over him. ‘Jonas!’‘Heaven knows I am obedient!’ said the sobbing girl. ‘Much‘Look at her!’ cried Jonas, pushing her off with his extended more so than I ever thought to be!’arm. ‘Look here! Look at her! Here’s a bargain for a man!’ Jonas laughed in his drunken exultation. ‘What! you’re findingit out, are you! Patience, and you will in time! Griffins‘Dear Jonas!’‘Dear Devil!’ he replied, with a fierce gesture. ‘You’re a pretty have claws, my girl. There’s not a pretty slight you ever putclog to be tied to a man for life, you mewling, white-faced upon me, nor a pretty trick you ever played me, nor a prettycat! Get out of my sight!’insolence you ever showed me, that I won’t pay back a hundred-fold.What else did I marry you for? you, too!’ he said,‘I know you don’t mean it, Jonas. You wouldn’t say it ifyou were sober.’with coarse contempt.With affected gayety she gave Bailey a piece of money, and It might have softened him—indeed it might—to hear heragain implored him to be gone. Her entreaty was so earnest, turn a little fragment of a song he used to say he liked; trying,that the boy had not the heart to stay there. But he stopped at with a heart so full, to win him back.the bottom of the stairs, and listened.‘Oho!’ he said, ‘you’re deaf, are you? You don’t hear me, eh?459

Martin ChuzzlewitSo much the better for you. I hate you. I hate myself, for ‘Was there anything in it, about a man’s being determinedhaving, been fool enough to strap a pack upon my back for to conquer his wife, break her spirit, bend her temper, crushthe pleasure of treading on it whenever I choose. Why, things all her humours like so many nut-shells—kill her, for aught Ihave opened to me, now, so that I might marry almost where know?’ said Jonas.I liked. But I wouldn’t; I’d keep single. I ought to be single, ‘No. Not a word,’ she answered quickly.among the friends I know. Instead of that, here I am, tied like ‘Oh!’ he returned. ‘That’ll be a true story though, beforea log to you. Pah! Why do you show your pale face when I long; for all the book says nothing about it. It’s a lying book,come home? Am I never to forget you?’I see. A fit book for a lying reader. But you’re deaf. I forgot‘How late it is!’ she said cheerfully, opening the shutter afteran interval of silence. ‘Broad day, Jonas!’There was another interval of silence; and the boy was stealingthat.’‘Broad day or black night, what do I care!’ was the kind away, when he heard her footstep on the floor, and stopped. Sherejoinder.went up to him, as it seemed, and spoke lovingly; saying that she‘The night passed quickly, too. I don’t mind sitting up, at would defer to him in everything and would consult his wishesall.’and obey them, and they might be very happy if he would be‘Sit up for me again, if you dare!’ growled Jonas.gentle with her. He answered with an imprecation, and—‘I was reading,’ she proceeded, ‘all night long. I began when Not with a blow? Yes. Stern truth against the base-souledyou went out, and read till you came home again. The strangeststory, Jonas! And true, the book says. I’ll tell it you to-No angry cries; no loud reproaches. Even her weeping andvillain; with a blow.morrow.’her sobs were stifled by her clinging round him. She only‘True, was it?’ said Jonas, doggedly.said, repeating it in agony of heart, how could he, could he,‘So the book says.’could he—and lost utterance in tears.460

Charles DickensOh woman, God beloved in old Jerusalem! The best among On the little bell giving clamorous notice of a visitor’s approach(for Mr Bailey came in at the door with a lunge, to getus need deal lightly with thy faults, if only for the punishmentthy nature will endure, in bearing heavy evidence against as much sound out of the bell as possible), Poll Sweedlepipeus, on the Day of Judgment!desisted from the contemplation of a favourite owl, and gavehis young friend hearty welcome.‘Why, you look smarter by day,’ said Poll, ‘than you do bycandle-light. I never see such a tight young dasher.’CHAPTER TWENTY-‘Reether so, Polly. How’s our fair friend, Sairah?’NINE‘Oh, she’s pretty well,’ said Poll. ‘She’s at home.’‘There’s the remains of a fine woman about Sairah, Poll,’IN WHICH SOME PEOPLE ARE PRECO- observed Mr Bailey, with genteel indifference.CIOUS, OTHERS PROFESSIONAL, AND ‘Oh!’ thought Poll, ‘he’s old. He must be very old!’OTHERS MYSTERIOUS;‘Too much crumb, you know,’ said Mr Bailey; ‘too fat,ALL IN THEIR SEVERAL WAYS Poll. But there’s many worse at her time of life’‘The very owl’s a-opening his eyes!’ thought Poll. ‘I don’tIT MAY HAVE BEEN the restless remembrance of what he had wonder at it in a bird of his opinions.’seen and heard overnight, or it may have been no deeper mental He happened to have been sharpening his razors, which wereoperation than the discovery that he had nothing to do, which lying open in a row, while a huge strop dangled from thecaused Mr Bailey, on the following afternoon, to feel particularlydisposed for agreeable society, and prompted him to pay chin, and a thought appeared to occur to him.wall. Glancing at these preparations, Mr Bailey stroked hisa visit to his friend Poll Sweedlepipe.‘Poll,’ he said, ‘I ain’t as neat as I could wish about the gills.461

Martin ChuzzlewitBeing here, I may as well have a shave, and get trimmed close.’ Poll Sweedlepipe obeyed, and scraped the lather off againThe barber stood aghast; but Mr Bailey divested himself of with particular care. Mr Bailey squinted at every successive dab,his neck-cloth, and sat down in the easy shaving chair with all as it was deposited on a cloth on his left shoulder, and seemed,the dignity and confidence in life. There was no resisting his with a microscopic eye, to detect some bristles in it; for hemanner. The evidence of sight and touch became as nothing. murmured more than once ‘Reether redder than I could wish,His chin was as smooth as a new-laid egg or a scraped Dutch Poll.’ The operation being concluded, Poll fell back and staredcheese; but Poll Sweedlepipe wouldn’t have ventured to deny, at him again, while Mr Bailey, wiping his face on the jacktowel,remarked, ‘that arter late hours nothing freshened up aon affidavit, that he had the beard of a Jewish rabbi.‘Go with the grain, Poll, all round, please,’ said Mr Bailey, man so much as a easy shave.’screwing up his face for the reception of the lather. ‘You may He was in the act of tying his cravat at the glass, without hisdo wot you like with the bits of whisker. I don’t care for ‘em.’ coat, and Poll had wiped his razor, ready for the next customer,when Mrs Gamp, coming downstairs, looked in atThe meek little barber stood gazing at him with the brushand soap-dish in his hand, stirring them round and round in the shop-door to give the barber neighbourly good day. Feelingfor her unfortunate situation, in having conceived a re-a ludicrous uncertainty, as if he were disabled by some fascinationfrom beginning. At last he made a dash at Mr Bailey’s gard for himself which it was not in the nature of things thatcheek. Then he stopped again, as if the ghost of a beard had he could return, Mr Bailey hastened to soothe her with wordssuddenly receded from his touch; but receiving mild encouragementfrom Mr Bailey, in the form of an adjuration to ‘Go ‘Hallo!’ he said, ‘Sairah! I needn’t ask you how you’ve beenof kindness.in and win,’ he lathered him bountifully. Mr Bailey smiled this long time, for you’re in full bloom. All a-blowin and a-through the suds in his satisfaction. ‘Gently over the stones, growin; ain’t she, Polly?’Poll. Go a tip-toe over the pimples!’‘Why, drat the Bragian boldness of that boy!’ cried Mrs462

Charles DickensGamp, though not displeased. ‘What a imperent young sparrowit is! I wouldn’t be that creetur’s mother not for fifty says Mrs Harris, “sech is life. Vich likeways is the hend of allis our religious feelins, and we finds ‘em answer.” “Sairey,”pound!’things!”’Mr Bailey regarded this as a delicate confession of her attachment,and a hint that no pecuniary gain could recom-Harris’s remark, though perhaps not quite so intelligible asThe barber gave a soft murmur, as much as to say that Mrspense her for its being rendered hopeless. He felt flattered. could be desired from such an authority, did equal honour toDisinterested affection is always flattering.her head and to her heart.‘Ah, dear!’ moaned Mrs Gamp, sinking into the shaving ‘And here,’ continued Mrs Gamp, ‘and here am I a-goinchair, ‘that there blessed Bull, Mr Sweedlepipe, has done his twenty mile in distant, on as wentersome a chance as ever anywery best to conker me. Of all the trying inwalieges in this one as monthlied ever run, I do believe. Says Mrs Harris,walley of the shadder, that one beats ‘em black and blue.’ with a woman’s and a mother’s art a-beatin in her humanIt was the practice of Mrs Gamp and her friends in the breast, she says to me, “You’re not a-goin, Sairey, Lord forgiveprofession, to say this of all the easy customers; as having at you!” “Why am I not a-goin, Mrs Harris?” I replies. “Mrsonce the effect of discouraging competitors for office, and Gill,” I says, “wos never wrong with six; and is it likely,accounting for the necessity of high living on the part of the ma’am—I ast you as a mother—that she will begin to benurses.unreg’lar now? Often and often have I heerd him say,” I says‘Talk of constitooshun!’ Mrs Gamp observed. ‘A person’s to Mrs Harris, meaning Mr Gill, “that he would back hisconstitooshun need be made of bricks to stand it. Mrs Harris wife agen Moore’s almanack, to name the very day and hour,jestly says to me, but t’other day, “Oh! Sairey Gamp,” she for ninepence farden. IS it likely, ma’am,” I says, “as she willsays, “how is it done?” “Mrs Harris, ma’am,” I says to her, “we fail this once?” Says Mrs Harris “No, ma’am, not in the coursegives no trust ourselves, and puts a deal o’trust elsevere; these of natur. But,” she says, the tears a-fillin in her eyes, “you463

Martin Chuzzlewitknows much betterer than me, with your experienge, how ‘So bad as that?’ inquired the wistful barber. ‘Indeed!’little puts us out. A Punch’s show,” she says, “a chimbley sweep, Mrs Gamp shook her head mysteriously, and pursed up hera newfundlan dog, or a drunkin man a-comin round the cornersharp may do it.” So it may, Mr Sweedlepipes,’ said Mrs You may take your slime drafts till you files into the air withlips. ‘There’s fevers of the mind,’ she said, ‘as well as body.Gamp, ‘there’s no deniging of it; and though my books is efferwescence; but you won’t cure that.’clear for a full week, I takes a anxious art along with me, I do ‘Ah!’ said the barber, opening his eyes, and putting on hisassure you, sir.’raven aspect; ‘Lor!’‘You’re so full of zeal, you see!’ said Poll. ‘You worrit yourselfso.’said Mrs Gamp. ‘But talk, when you’re wrong in your head‘No. You may make yourself as light as any gash balloon,’‘Worrit myself!’ cried Mrs Gamp, raising her hands and and when you’re in your sleep, of certain things; and you’ll beturning up her eyes. ‘You speak truth in that, sir, if you never heavy in your mind.’speaks no more ‘twixt this and when two Sundays jines together.I feels the sufferins of other people more than I feels ing his nails in his great interest. ‘Ghosts?’‘Of what kind of things now?’ inquired Poll, greedily bit-my own, though no one mayn’t suppoge it. The families I’ve Mrs Gamp, who perhaps had been already tempted furtherhad,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘if all was knowd and credit done where than she had intended to go, by the barber’s stimulating curiosity,gave a sniff of uncommon significance, and said, it didn’tcredit’s doo, would take a week to chris’en at Saint Polge’sfontin!’signify.‘Where’s the patient goin?’ asked Sweedlepipe.‘I’m a-goin down with my patient in the coach this‘Into Har’fordshire, which is his native air. But native airs arternoon,’ she proceeded. ‘I’m a-goin to stop with him a daynor native graces neither,’ Mrs Gamp observed, ‘won’t bring or so, till he gets a country nuss (drat them country nusses,him round.’much the orkard hussies knows about their bis’ness); and then464

Charles DickensI’m a-comin back; and that’s my trouble, Mr Sweedlepipes. him home in a hackney coach at three o’clock in the morning.’It was on the tip of the boy’s tongue to relate what hadBut I hope that everythink’ll only go on right and comfortableas long as I’m away; perwisin which, as Mrs Harris says, followed; but remembering how easily it might be carried toMrs Gill is welcome to choose her own time; all times of the his master’s ears, and the repeated cautions he had had fromday and night bein’ equally the same to me.’Mr Crimple ‘not to chatter,’ he checked himself; adding, only,During the progress of the foregoing remarks, which Mrs ‘She was sitting up, expecting him.’Gamp had addressed exclusively to the barber, Mr Bailey had ‘And all things considered,’ said Mrs Gamp sharply, ‘shebeen tying his cravat, getting on his coat, and making hideous might have know’d better than to go a-tirin herself out, byfaces at himself in the glass. Being now personally addressed doin’ anythink of the sort. Did they seem pretty pleasant together,sir?’by Mrs Gamp, he turned round, and mingled in the conversation.‘Oh, yes,’ answered Bailey, ‘pleasant enough.’‘You ain’t been in the City, I suppose, sir, since we was all ‘I’m glad on it,’ said Mrs Gamp, with a second sniff of significance.three there together,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘at Mr Chuzzlewit’s?’‘Yes, I have, Sairah. I was there last night.’‘They haven’t been married so long,’ observed Poll, rubbinghis hands, ‘that they need be anything but pleasant yet‘Last night!’ cried the barber.‘Yes, Poll, reether so. You can call it this morning, if you awhile.’like to be particular. He dined with us.’‘No,’ said Mrs Gamp, with a third significant signal.‘Who does that young Limb mean by “hus?”’ said Mrs ‘Especially,’ pursued the barber, ‘when the gentleman bearsGamp, with most impatient emphasis.such a character as you gave him.’‘Me and my Governor, Sairah. He dined at our house. We ‘I speak; as I find, Mr Sweedlepipes,’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘Forbidit should be otherways! But we never knows wot’s wos very merry, Sairah. So much so, that I was obliged to seehid-465

Martin Chuzzlewitden in each other’s hearts; and if we had glass winders there, one more dead than living; and rolled his languid eyes towardsthe door when Mrs Gamp appeared, as painfully as ifwe’d need keep the shetters up, some on us, I do assure you!’‘But you don’t mean to say—’ Poll Sweedlepipe began. their weight alone were burdensome to move.‘No,’ said Mrs Gamp, cutting him very short, ‘I don’t. Don’t ‘And how are we by this time?’ Mrs Gamp observed. ‘Wethink I do. The torters of the Imposition shouldn’t make me looks charming.’own I did. All I says is,’ added the good woman, rising and ‘We looks a deal charminger than we are, then,’ returnedfolding her shawl about her, ‘that the Bull’s a-waitin, and the Mrs Prig, a little chafed in her temper. ‘We got out of bedprecious moments is a-flyin’ fast.’back’ards, I think, for we’re as cross as two sticks. I never seeThe little barber having in his eager curiosity a great desire sich a man. He wouldn’t have been washed, if he’d had histo see Mrs Gamp’s patient, proposed to Mr Bailey that they own way.’should accompany her to the Bull, and witness the departure ‘She put the soap in my mouth,’ said the unfortunate patientfeebly.of the coach. That young gentleman assenting, they all wentout together.‘Couldn’t you keep it shut then?’ retorted Mrs Prig. ‘WhoArriving at the tavern, Mrs Gamp (who was full-dressed do you think’s to wash one feater, and miss another, and wearfor the journey, in her latest suit of mourning) left her friends one’s eyes out with all manner of fine work of that description,for half-a-crown a day! If you wants to be tittivated,to entertain themselves in the yard, while she ascended to thesick room, where her fellow-labourer Mrs Prig was dressing you must pay accordin’.’the invalid.‘Oh dear me!’ cried the patient, ‘oh dear, dear!’He was so wasted, that it seemed as if his bones would ‘There!’ said Mrs Prig, ‘that’s the way he’s been a-conductinrattle when they moved him. His cheeks were sunken, and of himself, Sarah, ever since I got him out of bed, if you’llhis eyes unnaturally large. He lay back in the easy-chair like believe it.’466

Charles Dickens‘Instead of being grateful,’ Mrs Gamp observed, ‘for all our you’ve made one of my legs shorter than the other. There’s alittle ways. Oh, fie for shame, sir, fie for shame!’bottle in my pocket too. What do you make me sit upon aHere Mrs Prig seized the patient by the chin, and began to bottle for?’rasp his unhappy head with a hair-brush.‘Deuce take the man!’ cried Mrs Gamp, drawing it forth.‘I suppose you don’t like that, neither!’ she observed, stoppingto look at him.cupboard of his coat when it hung behind the door, and quite‘If he ain’t been and got my night-bottle here. I made a littleIt was just possible that he didn’t for the brush was a specimenof the hardest kind of instrument producible by mod-and sugar in his t’other pocket, my dear, if you’ll just be goodforgot it, Betsey. You’ll find a ingun or two, and a little teaern art; and his very eyelids were red with the friction. Mrs enough to take ‘em out.’Prig was gratified to observe the correctness of her supposition,and said triumphantly ‘she know’d as much.’some other articles of general chandlery; and Mrs Gamp trans-Betsey produced the property in question, together withWhen his hair was smoothed down comfortably into his ferred them to her own pocket, which was a species of nankeenpannier. Refreshment then arrived in the form of chopseyes, Mrs Prig and Mrs Gamp put on his neckerchief; adjustinghis shirt collar with great nicety, so that the starched points and strong ale for the ladies, and a basin of beef-tea for theshould also invade those organs, and afflict them with an artificialophthalmia. His waistcoat and coat were next arranged; Westlock appeared.patient; which refection was barely at an end when Johnand as every button was wrenched into a wrong button-hole, ‘Up and dressed!’ cried John, sitting down beside him.and the order of his boots was reversed, he presented on the ‘That’s brave. How do you feel?’whole rather a melancholy appearance.‘Much better. But very weak.’‘I don’t think it’s right,’ said the poor weak invalid. ‘I feel as ‘No wonder. You have had a hard bout of it. But countryif I was in somebody else’s clothes. I’m all on one side; and air, and change of scene,’ said John, ‘will make another man467

Martin Chuzzlewitof you! Why, Mrs Gamp,’ he added, laughing, as he kindly ‘Don’t ask me what it is. It’s unnatural and cruel. Frightfularranged the sick man’s garments, ‘you have odd notions of a to think of. Frightful to tell. Frightful to know. Frightful togentleman’s dress!’have helped in. Let me kiss your hand for all your goodness‘Mr Lewsome an’t a easy gent to get into his clothes, sir,’ to me. Be kinder still, and don’t ask me what it is!’Mrs Gamp replied with dignity; ‘as me and Betsey Prig can At first, John gazed at him in great surprise; but rememberinghow very much reduced he was, and how recently hiscertify afore the Lord Mayor and Uncommon Counsellors, ifneedful!’brain had been on fire with fever, believed that he wasJohn at that moment was standing close in front of the sick labouring under some imaginary horror or despondent fancy.man, in the act of releasing him from the torture of the collarsbefore mentioned, when he said in a whisper:nity of drawing Mrs Gamp aside, while Betsey Prig was wrap-For farther information on this point, he took an opportu-‘Mr Westlock! I don’t wish to be overheard. I have somethingvery particular and strange to say to you; something quite collected in his mind.ping him in cloaks and shawls, and asked her whether he wasthat has been a dreadful weight on my mind, through this ‘Oh bless you, no!’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘He hates his nusses tolong illness.’this hour. They always does it, sir. It’s a certain sign. If youQuick in all his motions, John was turning round to desire could have heerd the poor dear soul a-findin fault with methe women to leave the room; when the sick man held him by and Betsey Prig, not half an hour ago, you would have wonderedhow it is we don’t get fretted to the tomb.’the sleeve.‘Not now. I’ve not the strength. I’ve not the courage. May This almost confirmed John in his suspicion; so, not takingwhat had passed into any serious account, he resumed hisI tell it when I have? May I write it, if I find that easier andbetter?’former cheerful manner, and assisted by Mrs Gamp and Betsey‘May you!’ cried John. ‘Why, Lewsome, what is this!’ Prig, conducted Lewsome downstairs to the coach; just then468

Charles Dickensupon the point of starting. Poll Sweedlepipe was at the door coachman, go wherever he might, protesting that it shouldwith his arms tight folded and his eyes wide open, and looked be ‘made good,’ though she took the question to the Houseon with absorbing interest, while the sick man was slowly of Commons.moved into the vehicle. His bony hands and haggard face At last, her bundle, and her pattens, and her basket, andimpressed Poll wonderfully; and he informed Mr Bailey in everything else, being disposed of, she took a friendly leave ofconfidence, that he wouldn’t have missed seeing him for a Poll and Mr Bailey, dropped a curtsey to John Westlock, andpound. Mr Bailey, who was of a different constitution, remarkedthat he would have stayed away for five shillings. Betsey Prig.parted as from a cherished member of the sisterhood withIt was a troublesome matter to adjust Mrs Gamp’s luggage ‘Wishin you lots of sickness, my darlin creetur,’ Mrs Gampto her satisfaction; for every package belonging to that lady observed, ‘and good places. It won’t be long, I hope, afore wehad the inconvenient property of requiring to be put in a works together, off and on, again, Betsey; and may our nextboot by itself, and to have no other luggage near it, on pain of meetin’ be at a large family’s, where they all takes it reg’lar,actions at law for heavy damages against the proprietors of one from another, turn and turn about, and has it businesslike.’the coach. The umbrella with the circular patch was particularlyhard to be got rid of, and several times thrust out its ‘I don’t care how soon it is,’ said Mrs Prig; ‘nor how manybattered brass nozzle from improper crevices and chinks, to weeks it lasts.’the great terror of the other passengers. Indeed, in her intense Mrs Gamp with a reply in a congenial spirit was backing toanxiety to find a haven of refuge for this chattel, Mrs Gamp the coach, when she came in contact with a lady and gentlemanwho were passing along the footway.so often moved it, in the course of five minutes, that it seemednot one umbrella but fifty. At length it was lost, or said to be; ‘Take care, take care here!’ cried the gentleman. ‘Halloo!and for the next five minutes she was face to face with the My dear! Why, it’s Mrs Gamp!’469

Martin Chuzzlewit‘What, Mr Mould!’ exclaimed the nurse. ‘And Mrs Mould! Mrs Mould assented.who would have thought as we should ever have a meetin’ ‘He’s coming our way, perhaps, after all,’ said Mould. ‘Whohere, I’m sure!’knows! I feel as if I ought to show him some little attention,‘Going out of town, Mrs Gamp?’ cried Mould. ‘That’s really. He don’t seem a stranger to me. I’m very much inclinedto move my hat, my dear.’unusual, isn’t it?’‘It is unusual, sir,’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘But only for a day or ‘He’s looking hard this way,’ said Mrs Mould.two at most. The gent,’ she whispered, ‘as I spoke about.’ ‘Then I will!’ cried Mould. ‘How d’ye do, sir! I wish you‘What, in the coach!’ cried Mould. ‘The one you thought good day. Ha! He bows too. Very gentlemanly. Mrs Gampof recommending? Very odd. My dear, this will interest you. has the cards in her pocket, I have no doubt. This is veryThe gentleman that Mrs Gamp thought likely to suit us is in singular, my dear—and very pleasant. I am not superstitious,the coach, my love.’but it really seems as if one was destined to pay him thoseMrs Mould was greatly interested.little melancholy civilities which belong to our peculiar line‘Here, my dear. You can stand upon the door-step,’ said of business. There can be no kind of objection to your kissingMould, ‘and take a look at him. Ha! There he is. Where’s my your hand to him, my dear.’glass? Oh! all right. I’ve got it. Do you see him, my dear?’ Mrs Mould did so.‘Quite plain,’ said Mrs Mould.‘Ha!’ said Mould. ‘He’s evidently gratified. Poor fellow! I‘Upon my life, you know, this is a very singular circumstance,’said Mould, quite delighted. ‘This is the sort of thing, waving his hand. ‘There he goes; there he goes!’am quite glad you did it, my love. Bye bye, Mrs Gamp!’my dear, I wouldn’t have missed on any account. It tickles So he did; for the coach rolled off as the words were spoken.Mr and Mrs Mould, in high good humour, went theirone. It’s interesting. It’s almost a little play, you know. Ah!There he is! To be sure. Looks poorly, Mrs M., don’t he?’ merry way. Mr Bailey retired with Poll Sweedlepipe as soon470

Charles Dickensas possible; but some little time elapsed before he could removehis friend from the ground, owing to the impression on without her.parent stem, and see how in all its various ramifications it gotwrought upon the barber’s nerves by Mrs Prig, whom he pronounced,in admiration of her beard, to be a woman of tranvidedfor his youngest daughter that choicest of blessings, a ten-And first of Mr Pecksniff it may be observed, that having proscendentcharms.der and indulgent husband; and having gratified the dearest wishWhen the light cloud of bustle hanging round the coach of his parental heart by establishing her in life so happily; hewas thus dispersed, Nadgett was seen in the darkest box of renewed his youth, and spreading the plumage of his own brightthe Bull coffee-room, looking wistfully up at the clock—as conscience, felt himself equal to all kinds of flights. It is customarywith fathers in stage-plays, after giving their daughters to theif the man who never appeared were a little behind his time.men of their hearts, to congratulate themselves on having noother business on their hands but to die immediately; though itCHAPTER THIRTYis rarely found that they are in a hurry to do it. Mr Pecksniff,being a father of a more sage and practical class, appeared to thinkPROVES THAT CHANGES MAY BE RUNGthat his immediate business was to live; and having deprivedIN THE BEST-REGULATED FAMILIES,himself of one comfort, to surround himself with others.AND THAT MR PECKNIFF WAS A SPECIALBut however much inclined the good man was to be jocoseHAND AT A TRIPLE-BOB-MAJORand playful, and in the garden of his fancy to disport himself (ifone may say so) like an architectural kitten, he had one impedimentconstantly opposed to him. The gentle Cherry, stung byAS THE SURGEON’S FIRST care after amputating a limb, is totake up the arteries the cruel knife has severed, so it is the dutya sense of slight and injury, which far from softening down orof this history, which in its remorseless course has cut fromwearing out, rankled and festered in her heart—the gentlethe Pecksniffian trunk its right arm, Mercy, to look to the471

Martin ChuzzlewitCherry was in flat rebellion. She waged fierce war against her ‘You needn’t taunt me with that, Pa,’ retorted Cherry, withdear papa, she led her parent what is usually called, for want of a spiteful look. ‘I am not so many years older than my sister,a better figure of speech, the life of a dog. But never did that either, though she is married to your friend!’dog live, in kennel, stable-yard, or house, whose life was half as ‘Ah, human nature, human nature! Poor human nature!’hard as Mr Pecksniff’s with his gentle child.said Mr Pecksniff, shaking his head at human nature, as if heThe father and daughter were sitting at their breakfast. Tom didn’t belong to it. ‘To think that this discord should arisehad retired, and they were alone. Mr Pecksniff frowned at from such a cause! oh dear, oh dear!’first; but having cleared his brow, looked stealthily at his child. ‘From such a cause indeed!’ cried Cherry. ‘State the realHer nose was very red indeed, and screwed up tight, with cause, Pa, or I’ll state it myself. Mind! I will!’hostile preparation.Perhaps the energy with which she said this was infectious.‘Cherry,’ cried Mr Pecksniff, ‘what is amiss between us? However that may be, Mr Pecksniff changed his tone and theMy child, why are we disunited?’expression of his face for one of anger, if not downright violence,when he said:Miss Pecksniff’s answer was scarcely a response to this gushof affection, for it was simply, ‘Bother, Pa!’‘You will! you have. You did yesterday. You do always. You‘Bother!’ repeated Mr Pecksniff, in a tone of anguish. have no decency; you make no secret of your temper; you‘Oh! ’tis too late, Pa,’ said his daughter, calmly ‘to talk to have exposed yourself to Mr Chuzzlewit a hundred times.’me like this. I know what it means, and what its value is.’ ‘Myself!’ cried Cherry, with a bitter smile. ‘Oh indeed! I‘This is hard!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, addressing his breakfastcup.‘This is very hard! She is my child. I carried her in my ‘Me, too, then,’ said Mr Pecksniff.don’t mind that.’arms when she wore shapeless worsted shoes—I might say, His daughter answered with a scornful laugh.mufflers—many years ago!’‘And since we have come to an explanation, Charity,’ said472

Charles DickensMr Pecksniff, rolling his head portentously, ‘let me tell you ‘Wasn’t I made a convenience of? Weren’t my feelings trifledthat I won’t allow it. None of your nonsense, Miss! I won’t with? Didn’t he address himself to me first?’ sobbed Cherry,permit it to be done.’clasping her hands; ‘and oh, good gracious, that I should live‘I shall do,’ said Charity, rocking her chair backwards and to be shook!’forwards, and raising her voice to a high pitch, ‘I shall do, Pa, ‘You’ll live to be shaken again,’ returned her parent, ‘if youwhat I please and what I have done. I am not going to be drive me to that means of maintaining the decorum of thiscrushed in everything, depend upon it. I’ve been more shamefullyused than anybody ever was in this world,’ here she be-spirit. If Mr Jonas didn’t care for you, how could you wish tohumble roof. You surprise me. I wonder you have not moregan to cry and sob, ‘and may expect the worse treatment from have him?’you, I know. But I don’t care for that. No, I don’t!’‘I wish to have him!’ exclaimed Cherry. ‘I wish to haveMr Pecksniff was made so desperate by the loud tone in him, Pa!’which she spoke, that, after looking about him in frantic uncertaintyfor some means of softening it, he rose and shook torted her father, ‘if you didn’t wish to have him?’‘Then what are you making all this piece of work for,’ re-her until the ornamental bow of hair upon her head nodded ‘Because I was treated with duplicity,’ said Cherry; ‘and becausemy own sister and my own father conspired against me.like a plume. She was so very much astonished by this assault,that it really had the desired effect.I am not angry with her,’ said Cherry; looking much more‘I’ll do it again!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, as he resumed his seat angry than ever. ‘I pity her. I’m sorry for her. I know the fateand fetched his breath, ‘if you dare to talk in that loud manner.How do you mean about being shamefully used? If Mr ‘Mr Jonas will survive your calling him a wretch, my child,that’s in store for her, with that Wretch.’Jonas chose your sister in preference to you, who could help I dare say,’ said Mr Pecksniff, with returning resignation; ‘butit, I should wish to know? What have I to do with it?’ call him what you like and make an end of it.’473

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Not an end, Pa,’ said Charity. ‘No, not an end. That’s not know. No, pray!’ he added, holding out his hand andthe only point on which we’re not agreed. I won’t submit to colouring again, ‘let us avoid the subject, my dear, whatever itit. It’s better you should know that at once. No; I won’t submitto it indeed, Pa! I am not quite a fool, and I am not ‘It’s quite right that the subject should be avoided betweenis!’blind. All I have got to say is, I won’t submit to it.’ us, sir,’ said Cherry. ‘But I wish to be able to avoid it altogether,and consequently must beg you to provide me with aWhatever she meant, she shook Mr Pecksniff now; for hislame attempt to seem composed was melancholy in the last home.’degree. His anger changed to meekness, and his words were Mr Pecksniff looked about the room, and said, ‘A home,mild and fawning.my child!’‘My dear,’ he said; ‘if in the short excitement of an angry ‘Another home, papa,’ said Cherry, with increasing stateliness‘Place me at Mrs Todgers’s or somewhere, on an inde-moment I resorted to an unjustifiable means of suppressing alittle outbreak calculated to injure you as well as myself—it’s pendent footing; but I will not live here, if such is to be thepossible I may have done so; perhaps I did—I ask your pardon.A father asking pardon of his child,’ said Mr Pecksniff, It is possible that Miss Pecksniff saw in Mrs Todgers’s acase.’‘is, I believe, a spectacle to soften the most rugged nature.’ vision of enthusiastic men, pining to fall in adoration at herBut it didn’t at all soften Miss Pecksniff; perhaps because feet. It is possible that Mr Pecksniff, in his new-born juvenility,saw, in the suggestion of that same establishment, an easyher nature was not rugged enough. On the contrary, she persistedin saying, over and over again, that she wasn’t quite a means of relieving himself from an irksome charge in the wayfool, and wasn’t blind, and wouldn’t submit to it.of temper and watchfulness. It is undoubtedly a fact that in‘You labour under some mistake, my child!’ said Mr the attentive ears of Mr Pecksniff, the proposition did notPecksniff. ‘but I will not ask you what it is; I don’t desire to sound quite like the dismal knell of all his hopes.474

Charles DickensBut he was a man of great feeling and acute sensibility; and possibly another shaking, threatened to ensue; but by degreeshe squeezed his pocket-handkerchief against his eyes with both they came to something like an understanding, and the stormhands—as such men always do, especially when they are observed.‘One of my birds,’ Mr Pecksniff said, ‘has left me for that it would have been strange if they had not come to anblew over. Indeed, Miss Charity’s idea was so agreeable to both,the stranger’s breast; the other would take wing to Todgers’s! amicable agreement. It was soon arranged between them thatWell, well, what am I? I don’t know what I am, exactly. Never the project should be tried, and that immediately; and thatmind!’Cherry’s not being well, and needing change of scene, and wishingEven this remark, made more pathetic perhaps by his breakingdown in the middle of it, had no effect upon Charity. She to Mr Chuzzlewit and Mary, to both of whom she had pleadedto be near her sister, should form the excuse for her departurewas grim, rigid, and inflexible.indisposition for some time past. These premises agreed on,‘But I have ever,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘sacrificed my children’s Mr Pecksniff gave her his blessing, with all the dignity of a selfdenyingman who had made a hard sacrifice, but comfortedhappiness to my own—I mean my own happiness to mychildren’s—and I will not begin to regulate my life by other himself with the reflection that virtue is its own reward. Thusrules of conduct now. If you can be happier at Mrs Todgers’s they were reconciled for the first time since that not easily forgivennight, when Mr Jonas, repudiating the elder, had con-than in your father’s house, my dear, go to Mrs Todgers’s! Donot think of me, my girl!’ said Mr Pecksniff with emotion; ‘I fessed his passion for the younger sister, and Mr Pecksniff hadshall get on pretty well, no doubt.’abetted him on moral grounds.Miss Charity, who knew he had a secret pleasure in the contemplationof the proposed change, suppressed her own, and tion to that small family, the Seven Wonders of the World,But how happened it—in the name of an unexpected addi-went on to negotiate the terms. His views upon this subject whatever and wherever they may be, how happened it—thatwere at first so very limited that another difference, involving Mr Pecksniff and his daughter were about to part? How hap-475

Martin Chuzzlewitpened it that their mutual relations were so greatly altered? modified by regular degrees, and to have softened down intoWhy was Miss Pecksniff so clamorous to have it understood a dull indifference for almost every one but Mr Pecksniff.that she was neither blind nor foolish, and she wouldn’t bear His looks were much the same as ever, but his mind wasit? It is not possible that Mr Pecksniff had any thoughts of singularly altered. It was not that this or that passion stoodmarrying again; or that his daughter, with the sharp eye of a out in brighter or in dimmer hues; but that the colour of thesingle woman, fathomed his design!whole man was faded. As one trait disappeared, no other traitLet us inquire into this.sprung up to take its place. His senses dwindled too. He wasMr Pecksniff, as a man without reproach, from whom the less keen of sight; was deaf sometimes; took little notice ofbreath of slander passed like common breath from any other what passed before him; and would be profoundly taciturnpolished surface, could afford to do what common men could for days together. The process of this alteration was so easynot. He knew the purity of his own motives; and when he that almost as soon as it began to be observed it was complete.But Mr Pecksniff saw it first, and having Anthonyhad a motive worked at it as only a very good man (or a verybad one) can. Did he set before himself any strong and palpablemotives for taking a second wife? Yes; and not one or tin the same process of decay.Chuzzlewit fresh in his recollection, saw in his brother Mar-two of them, but a combination of very many.To a gentleman of Mr Pecksniff’s tenderness, this was aOld Martin Chuzzlewit had gradually undergone an importantchange. Even upon the night when he made such an ity of his respected relative being made the victim of design-very mournful sight. He could not but foresee the probabil-ill-timed arrival at Mr Pecksniff’s house, he was comparativelysubdued and easy to deal with. This Mr Pecksniff at-gave him so much pain that he resolved to secure the propingpersons, and of his riches falling into worthless hands. Ittributed, at the time, to the effect his brother’s death had had erty to himself; to keep bad testamentary suitors at a distance;upon him. But from that hour his character seemed to have to wall up the old gentleman, as it were, for his own use. By476

Charles Dickenslittle and little, therefore, he began to try whether Mr That her unprotected state was no light burden on the oldChuzzlewit gave any promise of becoming an instrument in man’s mind, he also knew, for Mr Chuzzlewit had plainlyhis hands, and finding that he did, and indeed that he was told him so. ‘Then,’ said Mr Pecksniff ‘what if I married her!very supple in his plastic fingers, he made it the business of What,’ repeated Mr Pecksniff, sticking up his hair and glancingat his bust by Spoker; ‘what if, making sure of his ap-his life—kind soul!—to establish an ascendancy over him;and every little test he durst apply meeting with a success proval first—he is nearly imbecile, poor gentleman—I marriedher!’beyond his hopes, he began to think he heard old Martin’scash already chinking in his own unworldly pockets.Mr Pecksniff had a lively sense of the Beautiful; especially inBut when Mr Pecksniff pondered on this subject (as, in his women. His manner towards the sex was remarkable for itszealous way, he often did), and thought with an uplifted heart insinuating character. It is recorded of him in another part ofof the train of circumstances which had delivered the old these pages, that he embraced Mrs Todgers on the smallestgentleman into his hands for the confusion of evil-doers and provocation; and it was a way he had; it was a part of the gentlethe triumph of a righteous nature, he always felt that Mary placidity of his disposition. Before any thought of matrimonyGraham was his stumbling-block. Let the old man say what was in his mind, he had bestowed on Mary many little tokenshe would, Mr Pecksniff knew he had a strong affection for of his spiritual admiration. They had been indignantly received,her. He knew that he showed it in a thousand little ways; that but that was nothing. True, as the idea expanded within him,he liked to have her near him, and was never quite at ease these had become too ardent to escape the piercing eye ofwhen she was absent long. That he had ever really sworn to Cherry, who read his scheme at once; but he had always felt theleave her nothing in his will, Mr Pecksniff greatly doubted. power of Mary’s charms. So Interest and Inclination made aThat even if he had, there were many ways by which he could pair, and drew the curricle of Mr Pecksniff’s plan.evade the oath and satisfy his conscience, Mr Pecksniff knew. As to any thought of revenging himself on young Martin477

Martin Chuzzlewitfor his insolent expressions when they parted, and of shutting ‘Indeed I might. Quite true. I might speak of her as a dear,him out still more effectually from any hope of reconciliationwith his grandfather, Mr Pecksniff was much too meek ‘I hope so,’ returned old Martin. ‘I think she deserves it.’dear friend, I hope?’ observed Mr Pecksniff.and forgiving to be suspected of harbouring it. As to being ‘Think!’ cried Pecksniff, ‘think, Mr Chuzzlewit!’refused by Mary, Mr Pecksniff was quite satisfied that in her ‘You are speaking, I know,’ returned Martin, ‘but I don’tposition she could never hold out if he and Mr Chuzzlewit catch what you say. Speak up!’were both against her. As to consulting the wishes of her heart ‘He’s getting deafer than a flint,’ said Pecksniff. ‘I was saying,my dear sir, that I am afraid I must make up my mind toin such a case, it formed no part of Mr Pecksniff’s moralcode; for he knew what a good man he was, and what a blessinghe must be to anybody. His daughter having broken the ‘What has she been doing?’ asked the old man.part with Cherry.’ice, and the murder being out between them, Mr Pecksniff ‘He puts the most ridiculous questions I ever heard!’ mutteredMr Pecksniff. ‘He’s a child to-day.’ After which he added,had now only to pursue his design as cleverly as he could, andby the craftiest approaches.in a mild roar: ‘She hasn’t been doing anything, my dear‘Well, my good sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, meeting old Martin friend.’in the garden, for it was his habit to walk in and out by that ‘What are you going to part with her for?’ demanded Martin.way, as the fancy took him; ‘and how is my dear friend thisdelicious morning?’‘She hasn’t her health by any means,’ said Mr Pecksniff.‘Do you mean me?’ asked the old man.‘She misses her sister, my dear sir; they doted on each other‘Ah!’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘one of his deaf days, I see. Could I from the cradle. And I think of giving her a run in Londonmean any one else, my dear sir?’for a change. A good long run, sir, if I find she likes it.’‘You might have meant Mary,’ said the old man.‘Quite right,’ cried Martin. ‘It’s judicious.’478

Charles Dickens‘I am glad to hear you say so. I hope you mean to bear me I alone in it, for Thomas Pinch I do not count as any one.company in this dull part, while she’s away?’ said Mr Pecksniff. Our lovely friend shall occupy my daughter’s chamber; you‘I have no intention of removing from it,’ was Martin’s shall choose your own; we shall not quarrel, I hope!’answer.‘We are not likely to do that,’ said Martin.‘Then why,’ said Mr Pecksniff, taking the old man’s arm in Mr Pecksniff pressed his hand. ‘We understand each other,his, and walking slowly on; ‘Why, my good sir, can’t you come my dear sir, I see!—I can wind him,’ he thought, with exultation,‘round my little finger.’and stay with me? I am sure I could surround you with morecomforts—lowly as is my Cot—than you can obtain at a village ‘You leave the recompense to me?’ said the old man, after ahouse of entertainment. And pardon me, Mr Chuzzlewit, pardonme if I say that such a place as the Dragon, however well-‘Oh! do not speak of recompense!’ cried Pecksniff.minute’s silence.conducted (and, as far as I know, Mrs Lupin is one of the worthiestcreatures in this county), is hardly a home for Miss Granacy,‘you leave the recompense to me. Do you?’‘I say,’ repeated Martin, with a glimmer of his old obstiham.’‘Since you desire it, my good sir.’Martin mused a moment; and then said, as he shook him ‘I always desire it,’ said the old man. ‘You know I alwaysby the hand:desire it. I wish to pay as I go, even when I buy of you. Not‘No. You’re quite right; it is not.’that I do not leave a balance to be settled one day, Pecksniff.’‘The very sight of skittles,’ Mr Pecksniff eloquently pursued,‘is far from being congenial to a delicate mind.’ drop a tear upon his patron’s hand, but couldn’t find one in hisThe architect was too much overcome to speak. He tried to‘It’s an amusement of the vulgar,’ said old Martin, ‘certainly.’ dry distillery.‘Of the very vulgar,’ Mr Pecksniff answered. ‘Then why ‘May that day be very distant!’ was his pious exclamation.not bring Miss Graham here, sir? Here is the house. Here am ‘Ah, sir! If I could say how deep an interest I have in you and479

Martin Chuzzlewityours! I allude to our beautiful young friend.’‘You are not unwell?’ asked Martin anxiously.‘True,’ he answered. ‘True. She need have some one interestedin her. I did her wrong to train her as I did. Orphan another time. I’ll walk a little. Bless you!’‘No, no!’ cried Pecksniff. ‘No. Permit me to resume it atthough she was, she would have found some one to protect Old Martin blessed him in return, and squeezed his hand.her whom she might have loved again. When she was a child, As he turned away, and slowly walked towards the house, MrI pleased myself with the thought that in gratifying my whim Pecksniff stood gazing after him; being pretty well recoveredof placing her between me and false-hearted knaves, I had from his late emotion, which, in any other man, one mightdone her a kindness. Now she is a woman, I have no such have thought had been assumed as a machinery for feelingcomfort. She has no protector but herself. I have put her at Martin’s pulse. The change in the old man found such a slightsuch odds with the world, that any dog may bark or fawn expression in his figure, that Mr Pecksniff, looking after him,upon her at his pleasure. Indeed she stands in need of delicate could not help saying to himself:consideration. Yes; indeed she does!’‘And I can wind him round my little finger! Only think!’‘If her position could be altered and defined, sir?’ Mr Old Martin happening to turn his head, saluted him affectionately.Mr Pecksniff returned the gesture.Pecksniff hinted.‘How can that be done? Should I make a seamstress of her, ‘Why, the time was,’ said Mr Pecksniff; ‘and not long ago,or a governess?’when he wouldn’t look at me! How soothing is this change.‘Heaven forbid!’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘My dear sir, there are Such is the delicate texture of the human heart; so complicatedis the process of its being softened! Externally he looksother ways. There are indeed. But I am much excited andembarrassed at present, and would rather not pursue the subject.I scarcely know what I mean. Permit me to resume it at think!’the same, and I can wind him round my little finger. Onlyanother time.’In sober truth, there did appear to be nothing on which Mr480

Charles DickensPecksniff might not have ventured with Martin Chuzzlewit; expanding ring, yet always going on as fast as he, danced merrilybefore him; the colour of the long grass came and went,for whatever Mr Pecksniff said or did was right, and whateverhe advised was done. Martin had escaped so many snares from as if the light clouds made it timid as they floated throughneedy fortune-hunters, and had withered in the shell of his the distant air. The birds, so many Pecksniff consciences, sangsuspicion and distrust for so many years, but to become the gayly upon every branch; and Mr Pecksniff paid his homagegood man’s tool and plaything. With the happiness of this to the day by ruminating on his projects as he walked along.conviction painted on his face, the architect went forth upon Chancing to trip, in his abstraction, over the spreading roothis morning walk.of an old tree, he raised his pious eyes to take a survey of theThe summer weather in his bosom was reflected in the breast ground before him. It startled him to see the embodied imageof his thoughts not far ahead. Mary herself. And alone.of Nature. Through deep green vistas where the boughs archedoverhead, and showed the sunlight flashing in the beautiful At first Mr Pecksniff stopped as if with the intention ofperspective; through dewy fern from which the startled hares avoiding her; but his next impulse was to advance, which heleaped up, and fled at his approach; by mantled pools, and did at a brisk pace; caroling as he went so sweetly and with sofallen trees, and down in hollow places, rustling among last much innocence that he only wanted feathers and wings to beyear’s leaves whose scent woke memory of the past; the placid a bird.Pecksniff strolled. By meadow gates and hedges fragrant with Hearing notes behind her, not belonging to the songsters ofwild roses; and by thatched-roof cottages whose inmates humblybowed before him as a man both good and wise; the and was at her side immediately.the grove, she looked round. Mr Pecksniff kissed his hand,worthy Pecksniff walked in tranquil meditation. The bee ‘Communing with nature?’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘So am I.’passed onward, humming of the work he had to do; the idle She said the morning was so beautiful that she had walkedgnats for ever going round and round in one contracting and further than she intended, and would return. Mr Pecksniff481

Martin Chuzzlewitsaid it was exactly his case, and he would return with her. She tried to say she was sorry to hear it, but burst into tears.‘Take my arm, sweet girl,’ said Mr Pecksniff.Mr Pecksniff now repeated the Todgers performance on aMary declined it, and walked so very fast that he remonstrated.‘You were loitering when I came upon you,’ Mr in his disengaged hand, catching hers, employed himself incomfortable scale, as if he intended it to last some time; andPecksniff said. ‘Why be so cruel as to hurry now? You would separating the fingers with his own, and sometimes kissingnot shun me, would you?’them, as he pursued the conversation thus:‘Yes, I would,’ she answered, turning her glowing cheek ‘I am glad we met. I am very glad we met. I am able now toindignantly upon him, ‘you know I would. Release me, Mr ease my bosom of a heavy load, and speak to you in confidence.Mary,’ said Mr Pecksniff in his tenderest tones, indeedPecksniff. Your touch is disagreeable to me.’His touch! What? That chaste patriarchal touch which Mrs they were so very tender that he almost squeaked: ‘My soul! ITodgers—surely a discreet lady—had endured, not only withoutcomplaint, but with apparent satisfaction! This was posi-A fantastic thing, that maiden affectation! She made be-love you!’tively wrong. Mr Pecksniff was sorry to hear her say it. lieve to shudder.‘If you have not observed,’ said Mary, ‘that it is so, pray ‘I love you,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘my gentle life, with a devotionwhich is quite surprising, even to myself. I did supposetake assurance from my lips, and do not, as you are a gentleman,continue to offend me.’that the sensation was buried in the silent tomb of a lady,‘Well, well!’ said Mr Pecksniff, mildly, ‘I feel that I might only second to you in qualities of the mind and form; but Iconsider this becoming in a daughter of my own, and why find I am mistaken.’should I object to it in one so beautiful! It’s harsh. It cuts me She tried to disengage her hand, but might as well haveto the soul,’ said Mr Pecksniff; ‘but I cannot quarrel with tried to free herself from the embrace of an affectionate boaconstrictor;if anything so wily may be brought into you, Mary.’com-482

Charles Dickensparison with Pecksniff.serve my thanks. Take them; and pray leave me, Mr Pecksniff.’‘Although I am a widower,’ said Mr Pecksniff, examining The good man smiled a greasy smile; and drew her closer tothe rings upon her fingers, and tracing the course of one delicateblue vein with his fat thumb, ‘a widower with two daugh-‘Pray, pray release me, Mr Pecksniff. I cannot listen to yourhim.ters, still I am not encumbered, my love. One of them, as proposal. I cannot receive it. There are many to whom it mayyou know, is married. The other, by her own desire, but with be acceptable, but it is not so to me. As an act of kindness anda view, I will confess—why not? —to my altering my condition,is about to leave her father’s house. I have a character, I Mr Pecksniff walked on with his arm round her waist, andan act of pity, leave me!’hope. People are pleased to speak well of me, I think. My her hand in his, as contentedly as if they had been all in all toperson and manner are not absolutely those of a monster, I each other, and were joined in the bonds of truest love.trust. Ah! naughty Hand!’ said Mr Pecksniff, apostrophizing ‘If you force me by your superior strength,’ said Mary, whothe reluctant prize, ‘why did you take me prisoner? Go, go!’ finding that good words had not the least effect upon him,He slapped the hand to punish it; but relenting, folded it in made no further effort to suppress her indignation; ‘if you forcehis waistcoat to comfort it again.me by your superior strength to accompany you back, and to‘Blessed in each other, and in the society of our venerable be the subject of your insolence upon the way, you cannotfriend, my darling,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘we shall be happy. constrain the expression of my thoughts. I hold you in theWhen he is wafted to a haven of rest, we will console each deepest abhorrence. I know your real nature and despise it.’other. My pretty primrose, what do you say?’‘No, no,’ said Mr Pecksniff, sweetly. ‘No, no, no!’‘It is possible,’ Mary answered, in a hurried manner, ‘that I ‘By what arts or unhappy chances you have gained yourought to feel grateful for this mark of your confidence. I cannotsay that I do, but I am willing to suppose you may de-may be strong enough to soften even this, but he shallinfluence over Mr Chuzzlewit, I do not know,’ said Mary; ‘itknow483

Martin Chuzzlewitof this, trust me, sir.’curious fact, but it is difficult, do you know, for any one toMr Pecksniff raised his heavy eyelids languidly, and let them ruffle me. And did she think,’ said Mr Pecksniff, with a playfultightening of his grasp ‘that she could! How little did shefall again. It was saying with perfect coolness, ‘Aye, aye! Indeed!’know his heart!’‘Is it not enough,’ said Mary, ‘that you warp and change his Little, indeed! Her mind was so strangely constituted thatnature, adapt his every prejudice to your bad ends, and harden she would have preferred the caresses of a toad, an adder, or aa heart naturally kind by shutting out the truth and allowing serpent—nay, the hug of a bear—to the endearments of Mrnone but false and distorted views to reach it; is it not enough Pecksniff.that you have the power of doing this, and that you exercise ‘Come, come,’ said that good gentleman, ‘a word or twoit, but must you also be so coarse, so cruel, and so cowardly will set this matter right, and establish a pleasant understandingbetween us. I am not angry, my love.’to me?’Still Mr Pecksniff led her calmly on, and looked as mild as ‘You angry!’any lamb that ever pastured in the fields.‘No,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘I am not. I say so. Neither are‘Will nothing move you, sir?’ cried Mary.you.’‘My dear,’ observed Mr Pecksniff, with a placid leer, ‘a habit There was a beating heart beneath his hand that told anotherstory though.of self-examination, and the practice of—shall I say of virtue?’‘I am sure you are not,’ said Mr Pecksniff: ‘and I will tell‘Of hypocrisy,’ said Mary.you why. There are two Martin Chuzzlewits, my dear; and‘No, no,’ resumed Mr Pecksniff, chafing the captive hand your carrying your anger to one might have a serious effect—reproachfully, ‘of virtue—have enabled me to set such guards who knows!—upon the other. You wouldn’t wish to hurtupon myself, that it is really difficult to ruffle me. It is a him, would you?’484

Charles DickensShe trembled violently, and looked at him with such a proud it, but I would.’disdain that he turned his eyes away. No doubt lest he should She wept so bitterly now, and was so much distressed, thatbe offended with her in spite of his better self.he thought it prudent to unclasp her waist, and hold her only‘A passive quarrel, my love,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘may be by the hand.changed into an active one, remember. It would be sad to ‘As to our own share in the precious little mystery,’ said Mrblight even a disinherited young man in his already blighted Pecksniff, ‘we will keep it to ourselves, and talk of it betweenprospects; but how easy to do it. Ah, how easy! Have I influencewith our venerable friend, do you think? Well, perhaps I love; you will consent, I know. Whatever you may think;ourselves, and you shall think it over. You will consent, myhave. Perhaps I have.’you will. I seem to remember to have heard—I really don’tHe raised his eyes to hers; and nodded with an air of banter know where, or how’—he added, with bewitching frankness,that was charming.‘that you and Martin junior, when you were children, had a‘No,’ he continued, thoughtfully. ‘Upon the whole, my sort of childish fondness for each other. When we are married,you shall have the satisfaction of thinking that it didn’tsweet, if I were you I’d keep my secret to myself. I am not atall sure—very far from it—that it would surprise our friend last to ruin him, but passed away to do him good; for we’llin any way, for he and I have had some conversation together see then what we can do to put some trifling help in Martinonly this morning, and he is anxious, very anxious, to establishyou in some more settled manner. But whether he was Well! Perhaps I have. Perhaps I have.’junior’s way. Have I any influence with our venerable friend?surprised or not surprised, the consequence of your impartingit might be the same. Martin junior might suffer severely. occurred, was close to Mr Pecksniff’s house. They were nowThe outlet from the wood in which these tender passagesI’d have compassion on Martin junior, do you know?’ said so near it that he stopped, and holding up her little finger,Mr Pecksniff, with a persuasive smile. ‘Yes. He don’t deserve said in playful accents, as a parting fancy:485

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Shall I bite it?’‘So soon, my child!’Receiving no reply he kissed it instead; and then stooping ‘I can’t go too soon,’ said Charity, ‘under the circumstances.down, inclined his flabby face to hers—he had a flabby face, I have written to Mrs Todgers to propose an arrangement,although he was a good man—and with a blessing, which and have requested her to meet me at the coach, at all events.from such a source was quite enough to set her up in life, and You’ll be quite your own master now, Mr Pinch!’prosper her from that time forth permitted her to leave him. Mr Pecksniff had just gone out of the room, and Tom hadGallantry in its true sense is supposed to ennoble and dignify a just come into it.man; and love has shed refinements on innumerable Cymons. ‘My own master!’ repeated Tom.But Mr Pecksniff—perhaps because to one of his exalted nature ‘Yes, you’ll have nobody to interfere with you,’ said Charity.‘At least I hope you won’t. Hem! It’s a changing world.’these were mere grossnesses—certainly did not appear to anyunusual advantage, now that he was left alone. On the contrary, ‘What! are you going to be married, Miss Pecksniff?’ askedhe seemed to be shrunk and reduced; to be trying to hide himself Tom in great surprise.within himself; and to be wretched at not having the power to ‘Not exactly,’ faltered Cherry. ‘I haven’t made up my minddo it. His shoes looked too large; his sleeve looked too long; his to be. I believe I could be, if I chose, Mr Pinch.’hair looked too limp; his features looked too mean; his exposed ‘Of course you could!’ said Tom. And he said it in perfectthroat looked as if a halter would have done it good. For a minute good faith. He believed it from the bottom of his heart.or two, in fact, he was hot, and pale, and mean, and shy, and ‘No,’ said Cherry, ‘I am not going to be married. Nobodyslinking, and consequently not at all Pecksniffian. But after that, is, that I know of. Hem! But I am not going to live withhe recovered himself, and went home with as beneficent an air as Papa. I have my reasons, but it’s all a secret. I shall always feelif he had been the High Priest of the summer weather. very kindly towards you, I assure you, for the boldness you‘I have arranged to go, Papa,’ said Charity, ‘to-morrow.’ showed that night. As to you and me, Mr Pinch, we part the486

Charles Dickensbest friends possible!’Pecksniffian servant was observed by some profane personsTom thanked her for her confidence, and for her friendship,but there was a mystery in the former which perfectly Sunday.to be particularly active in the thanksgiving at church nextbewildered him. In his extravagant devotion to the family, hehad felt the loss of Merry more than any one but those whoCHAPTER THIRTY-ONEknew that for all the slights he underwent he thought hisown demerits were to blame, could possibly have understood.MR PINCH IS DISCHARGED OF A DUTYHe had scarcely reconciled himself to that when here wasWHICH HE NEVER OWED TO ANYBODY,Charity about to leave them. She had grown up, as it were,AND MR PECKSNIFF DISCHARGES Aunder Tom’s eye. The sisters were a part of Pecksniff, and aDUTY WHICH HE OWES TO SOCIETYpart of Tom; items in Pecksniff’s goodness, and in Tom’s service.He couldn’t bear it; not two hours’ sleep had Tom thatTHE CLOSING WORDS of the last chapter lead naturally to thenight, through dwelling in his bed upon these dreadful changes.commencement of this, its successor; for it has to do with aWhen morning dawned he thought he must have dreamedchurch. With the church, so often mentioned heretofore, inthis piece of ambiguity; but no, on going downstairs he foundwhich Tom Pinch played the organ for nothing.them packing trunks and cording boxes, and making otherOne sultry afternoon, about a week after Miss Charity’spreparations for Miss Charity’s departure, which lasted all daydeparture for London, Mr Pecksniff being out walking bylong. In good time for the evening coach, Miss Charity depositedher housekeeping keys with much ceremony uponhimself, took it into his head to stray into the churchyard. Ashe was lingering among the tombstones, endeavouring to extractan available sentiment or two from the epitaphs—for hethe parlour table; took a gracious leave of all the house; andquitted her paternal roof—a blessing for which thenever lost an opportunity of making up a few moral crackers,487

Martin Chuzzlewitto be let off as occasion served—Tom Pinch began to practice.Tom could run down to the church and do so whenever ear for music, but he knew when it had a tranquilizing influ-been strolling a long way. He had not what may be called a finehe had time to spare; for it was a simple little organ, provided ence on his soul; and that was the case now, for it sounded towith wind by the action of the musician’s feet; and he was him like a melodious snore. He approached the church, andindependent, even of a bellows-blower. Though if Tom had looking through the diamond lattice of a window near thewanted one at any time, there was not a man or boy in all the porch, saw Tom, with the curtains in the loft drawn back, playingaway with great expression and tenderness.village, and away to the turnpike (tollman included), butwould have blown away for him till he was black in the face. The church had an inviting air of coolness. The old oakMr Pecksniff had no objection to music; not the least. He roof supported by cross-beams, the hoary walls, the marblewas tolerant of everything; he often said so. He considered it tablets, and the cracked stone pavement, were refreshing toa vagabond kind of trifling, in general, just suited to Tom’s look at. There were leaves of ivy tapping gently at the oppositewindows; and the sun poured in through only one; leav-capacity. But in regard to Tom’s performance upon this sameorgan, he was remarkably lenient, singularly amiable; for when ing the body of the church in tempting shade. But the mostTom played it on Sundays, Mr Pecksniff in his unbounded tempting spot of all, was one red-curtained and soft-cushionedpew, wherein the official dignitaries of the place (ofsympathy felt as if he played it himself, and were a benefactorto the congregation. So whenever it was impossible to devise whom Mr Pecksniff was the head and chief) enshrined themselveson Sundays. Mr Pecksniff’s seat was in the corner; aany other means of taking the value of Tom’s wages out ofhim, Mr Pecksniff gave him leave to cultivate this instrument.For which mark of his consideration Tom was very Book was at that minute making the most of its quarto selfremarkably comfortable corner; where his very large Prayergrateful.upon the desk. He determined to go in and rest.The afternoon was remarkably warm, and Mr Pecksniff had He entered very softly; in part because it was a church; in488

Charles Dickenspart because his tread was always soft; in part because Tom eyes.played a solemn tune; in part because he thought he would He was so indolent, that after glancing at the hassocks andsurprise him when he stopped. Unbolting the door of the the pew, he was already half-way off to sleep again, when ithigh pew of state, he glided in and shut it after him; then occurred to him that there really were voices in the church;sitting in his usual place, and stretching out his legs upon the low voices, talking earnestly hard by; while the echoes seemedhassocks, he composed himself to listen to the music. to mutter responses. He roused himself, and listened.It is an unaccountable circumstance that he should have felt Before he had listened half a dozen seconds, he became asdrowsy there, where the force of association might surely have broad awake as ever he had been in all his life. With eyes, andbeen enough to keep him wide awake; but he did. He had ears, and mouth, wide open, he moved himself a very littlenot been in the snug little corner five minutes before he beganto nod. He had not recovered himself one minute before peeped out.with the utmost caution, and gathering the curtain in his hand,he began to nod again. In the very act of opening his eyes Tom Pinch and Mary. Of course. He had recognized theirindolently, he nodded again. In the very act of shutting them, voices, and already knew the topic they discussed. Lookinghe nodded again. So he fell out of one nod into another until like the small end of a guillotined man, with his chin on aat last he ceased to nod at all, and was as fast as the church level with the top of the pew, so that he might duck downitself.immediately in case of either of them turning round, he listened.Listened with such concentrated eagerness, that his veryHe had a consciousness of the organ, long after he fell asleep,though as to its being an organ he had no more idea of that hair and shirt-collar stood bristling up to help him.than he had of its being a bull. After a while he began to have ‘No,’ cried Tom. ‘No letters have ever reached me, exceptat intervals the same dreamy impressions of voices; and awakeningto an indolent curiosity upon the subject, opened his count, for it’s very likely they have gone away to somethat one from New York. But don’t be uneasy on that ac-far-off489

Martin Chuzzlewitplace, where the posts are neither regular nor frequent. He anticipate your wishes now and then. At other times I havesaid in that very letter that it might be so, even in that city to fancied that your kindness prompted you to keep aloof fromwhich they thought of travelling—Eden, you know.’ me.’‘It is a great weight upon my mind,’ said Mary.‘Indeed!’‘Oh, but you mustn’t let it be,’ said Tom. ‘There’s a true ‘It was very foolish; very presumptuous and ridiculous, tosaying that nothing travels so fast as ill news; and if the slightestharm had happened to Martin, you may be sure you would possible that I—I—should admire you too much for my ownthink so,’ Tom pursued; ‘but I feared you might suppose ithave heard of it long ago. I have often wished to say this to peace; and so denied yourself the slight assistance you wouldyou,’ Tom continued with an embarrassment that became otherwise have accepted from me. If such an idea has everhim very well, ‘but you have never given me an opportunity.’ presented itself to you,’ faltered Tom, ‘pray dismiss it. I am‘I have sometimes been almost afraid,’ said Mary, ‘that you easily made happy; and I shall live contented here long aftermight suppose I hesitated to confide in you, Mr Pinch.’ you and Martin have forgotten me. I am a poor, shy, awkwardcreature; not at all a man of the world; and you should‘No,’ Tom stammered, ‘I—I am not aware that I ever supposedthat. I am sure that if I have, I have checked the thought think no more of me, bless you, than if I were an old friar!’directly, as an injustice to you. I feel the delicacy of your situationin having to confide in me at all,’ said Tom, ‘but I would though they have no such rule in all their stern arithmetic.If friars bear such hearts as thine, Tom, let friars multiply;risk my life to save you from one day’s uneasiness; indeed I ‘Dear Mr Pinch!’ said Mary, giving him her hand; ‘I cannotwould!’tell you how your kindness moves me. I have never wrongedPoor Tom!you by the lightest doubt, and have never for an instant ceased‘I have dreaded sometimes,’ Tom continued, ‘that I might to feel that you were all—much more than all—that Martinhave displeased you by—by having the boldness to try and found you. Without the silent care and friendship I have ex-490

Charles Dickensperienced from you, my life here would have been unhappy. Mary seemed to have expressed some dissent in the meanwhile,for Tom went on to say, with honest energy:But you have been a good angel to me; filling me with gratitudeof heart, hope, and courage.’‘Well, I don’t know how it is, but it always happens, wheneverI express myself in this way to anybody almost, that I‘I am as little like an angel, I am afraid,’ replied Tom, shakinghis head, ‘as any stone cherubim among the grave-stones; and I find they won’t do justice to Pecksniff. It is one of the mostdon’t think there are many real angels of that pattern. But I should extraordinary circumstances that ever came within my knowledge,but it is so. There’s John Westlock, who used to be alike to know (if you will tell me) why you have been so verysilent about Martin.’pupil here, one of the best-hearted young men in the world,‘Because I have been afraid,’ said Mary, ‘of injuring you.’ in all other matters—I really believe John would have Pecksniff‘Of injuring me!’ cried Tom.flogged at the cart’s tail if he could. And John is not a solitary‘Of doing you an injury with your employer.’case, for every pupil we have had in my time has gone awayThe gentleman in question dived.with the same inveterate hatred of him. There was Mark Tapley,‘With Pecksniff!’ rejoined Tom, with cheerful confidence. too, quite in another station of life,’ said Tom; ‘the mockery he‘Oh dear, he’d never think of us! He’s the best of men. The used to make of Pecksniff when he was at the Dragon wasmore at ease you were, the happier he would be. Oh dear, you shocking. Martin too: Martin was worse than any of ‘em. Butneedn’t be afraid of Pecksniff. He is not a spy.’I forgot. He prepared you to dislike Pecksniff, of course. SoMany a man in Mr Pecksniff’s place, if he could have dived you came with a prejudice, you know, Miss Graham, and arethrough the floor of the pew of state and come out at Calcutta not a fair witness.’or any inhabited region on the other side of the earth, would Tom triumphed very much in this discovery, and rubbedhave done it instantly. Mr Pecksniff sat down upon a hassock,and listening more attentively than ever, smiled. ‘Mr Pinch,’ said Mary, ‘you mistakehis hands with great satisfaction.him.’491

Martin Chuzzlewit‘No, no!’ cried Tom. ‘You mistake him. But,’ he added, with a object of my coming.’rapid change in his tone, ‘what is the matter? Miss Graham, what Tom gazed at her steadfastly, and seemed to say, ‘What else?’is the matter?’But he said not a word.Mr Pecksniff brought up to the top of the pew, by slow ‘That person whom you think the best of men,’ said Mary,degrees, his hair, his forehead, his eyebrow, his eye. She was looking up, and speaking with a quivering lip and flashingsitting on a bench beside the door with her hands before her eye.face; and Tom was bending over her.‘Lord bless me!’ muttered Tom, staggering back. ‘Wait a‘What is the matter?’ cried Tom. ‘Have I said anything to moment. That person whom I think the best of men! Youhurt you? Has any one said anything to hurt you? Don’t cry. mean Pecksniff, of course. Yes, I see you mean Pecksniff. GoodPray tell me what it is. I cannot bear to see you so distressed. gracious me, don’t speak without authority. What has he done?Mercy on us, I never was so surprised and grieved in all my If he is not the best of men, what is he?’life!’‘The worst. The falsest, craftiest, meanest, cruellest, mostMr Pecksniff kept his eye in the same place. He could have sordid, most shameless,’ said the trembling girl—tremblingmoved it now for nothing short of a gimlet or a red-hot wire. with her indignation.‘I wouldn’t have told you, Mr Pinch,’ said Mary, ‘if I could Tom sat down on a seat, and clasped his hands.have helped it; but your delusion is so absorbing, and it is so ‘What is he,’ said Mary, ‘who receiving me in his house asnecessary that we should be upon our guard; that you should his guest; his unwilling guest; knowing my history, and hownot be compromised; and to that end that you should know defenceless and alone I am, presumes before his daughters toby whom I am beset; that no alternative is left me. I came affront me so, that if I had a brother but a child, who saw it,here purposely to tell you, but I think I should have wanted he would instinctively have helped me?’courage if you had not chanced to lead me so directly to the ‘He is a scoundrel!’ exclaimed Tom. ‘Whoever he may be,492

Charles Dickenshe is a scoundrel.’the broad light of day; dragging me on, the while, in his embrace,and holding to his lips a hand,’ pursued the agitatedMr Pecksniff dived again.‘What is he,’ said Mary, ‘who, when my only friend—a girl, extending it, ‘which I would have struck off, if with it Idear and kind one, too—was in full health of mind, humbled could lose the shame and degradation of his touch?’himself before him, but was spurned away (for he knew him ‘I say,’ cried Tom, in great excitement, ‘he is a scoundrelthen) like a dog. Who, in his forgiving spirit, now that that and a villain! I don’t care who he is, I say he is a double-dyedfriend is sunk into a failing state, can crawl about him again, and most intolerable villain!’and use the influence he basely gains for every base and wicked Covering her face with her hands again, as if the passionpurpose, and not for one—not one—that’s true or good?’ which had sustained her through these disclosures lost itself‘I say he is a scoundrel!’ answered Tom.in an overwhelming sense of shame and grief, she abandoned‘But what is he—oh, Mr Pinch, what IS he—who, thinkinghe could compass these designs the better if I were his Any sight of distress was sure to move the tenderness ofherself to tears.wife, assails me with the coward’s argument that if I marry Tom, but this especially. Tears and sobs from her were arrowshim, Martin, on whom I have brought so much misfortune, in his heart. He tried to comfort her; sat down beside her;shall be restored to something of his former hopes; and if I expended all his store of homely eloquence; and spoke indo not, shall be plunged in deeper ruin? What is he who makes words of praise and hope of Martin. Aye, though he lovedmy very constancy to one I love with all my heart a torture to her from his soul with such a self-denying love as womanmyself and wrong to him; who makes me, do what I will, the seldom wins; he spoke from first to last of Martin. Not theinstrument to hurt a head I would heap blessings on! What is wealth of the rich Indies would have tempted Tom to shirkhe who, winding all these cruel snares about me, explains their one mention of her lover’s name.purpose to me, with a smooth tongue and a smiling face, in When she was more composed, she impressed upon Tom493

Martin Chuzzlewitthat this man she had described, was Pecksniff in his real not partial, so was his restored sight. HIS Pecksniff couldcolours; and word by word and phrase by phrase, as well as never have worked the wickedness of which he had just nowshe remembered it, related what had passed between them in heard, but any other Pecksniff could; and the Pecksniff whothe wood: which was no doubt a source of high gratification could do that could do anything, and no doubt had beento that gentleman himself, who in his desire to see and his doing anything and everything except the right thing, alldread of being seen, was constantly diving down into the state through his career. From the lofty height on which poor Tompew, and coming up again like the intelligent householder in had placed his idol it was tumbled down headlong, andPunch’s Show, who avoids being knocked on the head with acudgel. When she had concluded her account, and had besoughtTom to be very distant and unconscious in his manner Could have set Mr Pecksniff up again.Not all the king’s horses, nor all the king’s men,towards her after this explanation, and had thanked him verymuch, they parted on the alarm of footsteps in the burialground;and Tom was left alone in the church again. and serve him right! But it was not he who suffered; it wasLegions of Titans couldn’t have got him out of the mud;And now the full agitation and misery of the disclosure Tom. His compass was broken, his chart destroyed, his chronometerhad stopped, his masts were gone by the board; hiscame rushing upon Tom indeed. The star of his whole lifefrom boyhood had become, in a moment, putrid vapour. It anchor was adrift, ten thousand leagues away.was not that Pecksniff, Tom’s Pecksniff, had ceased to exist, Mr Pecksniff watched him with a lively interest, for he divinedthe purpose of Tom’s ruminations, and was curious tobut that he never had existed. In his death Tom would havehad the comfort of remembering what he used to be, but in see how he conducted himself. For some time, Tom wanderedup and down the aisle like a man demented, stoppingthis discovery, he had the anguish of recollecting what he neverwas. For, as Tom’s blindness in this matter had been total and occasionally to lean against a pew and think it over; then he494

Charles Dickensstood staring at a blank old monument bordered tastefully Mr Pecksniff sat upon the hassock pulling up his shirt-collar,while Tom, touched to the quick, delivered this apostro-with skulls and cross-bones, as if it were the finest work ofArt he had ever seen, although at other times he held it in phe. After a pause he heard Tom coming down the stairs,unspeakable contempt; then he sat down; then walked to and jingling the church keys; and bringing his eye to the top offro again; then went wandering up into the organ-loft, and the pew again, saw him go slowly out and lock the door.touched the keys. But their minstrelsy was changed, their Mr Pecksniff durst not issue from his place of concealment;music gone; and sounding one long melancholy chord, Tom for through the windows of the church he saw Tom passingdrooped his head upon his hands and gave it up as hopeless. on among the graves, and sometimes stopping at a stone, and‘I wouldn’t have cared,’ said Tom Pinch, rising from his leaning there as if he were a mourner who had lost a friend.stool and looking down into the church as if he had been the Even when he had left the churchyard, Mr Pecksniff still remainedshut up; not being at all secure but that in his restlessClergyman, ‘I wouldn’t have cared for anything he might havedone to Me, for I have tried his patience often, and have lived state of mind Tom might come wandering back. At length heupon his sufferance and have never been the help to him that issued forth, and walked with a pleasant countenance into theothers could have been. I wouldn’t have minded, Pecksniff,’ vestry; where he knew there was a window near the ground,Tom continued, little thinking who heard him, ‘if you had by which he could release himself by merely stepping out.done Me any wrong; I could have found plenty of excuses for He was in a curious frame of mind, Mr Pecksniff; being inthat; and though you might have hurt me, could have still no hurry to go, but rather inclining to a dilatory trifling withgone on respecting you. But why did you ever fall so low as the time, which prompted him to open the vestry cupboard,this in my esteem! Oh Pecksniff, Pecksniff, there is nothing I and look at himself in the parson’s little glass that hung withinwould not have given, to have had you deserve my old opinionof you; nothing!’erty of borrowing the canonical brush and arranging it.the door. Seeing that his hair was rumpled, he took the lib-He495

Martin Chuzzlewitalso took the liberty of opening another cupboard; but he Thank you, Jane. How are your relations, Jane?’shut it up again quickly, being rather startled by the sight of a ‘Pretty well, I thank you, sir.’black and a white surplice dangling against the wall; which ‘I am glad to hear it. Let them know I asked about them,had very much the appearance of two curates who had committedsuicide by hanging themselves. Remembering that he ‘Yes, sir. He’s in the parlour, reading.’Jane. Is Mr Chuzzlewit in the way, Jane?’had seen in the first cupboard a port-wine bottle and some ‘He’s in the parlour, reading, is he, Jane?’ said Mr Pecksniff.biscuits, he peeped into it again, and helped himself with much ‘Very well. Then I think I’ll go and see him, Jane.’deliberation; cogitating all the time though, in a very deep Never had Mr Pecksniff been beheld in a more pleasantand weighty manner, as if his thoughts were otherwise employed.But when he walked into the parlour where the old manhumour!He soon made up his mind, if it had ever been in doubt; was engaged as Jane had said; with pen and ink and paper onand putting back the bottle and biscuits, opened the casement.He got out into the churchyard without any difficulty; ticular to have him well supplied with writing materials), hea table close at hand (for Mr Pecksniff was always very par-shut the window after him; and walked straight home. became less cheerful. He was not angry, he was not vindictive,he was not cross, he was not moody, but he was grieved;‘Is Mr Pinch indoors?’ asked Mr Pecksniff of his servingmaid.he was sorely grieved. As he sat down by the old man’s side,‘Just come in, sir.’two tears—not tears like those with which recording angels‘Just come in, eh?’ repeated Mr Pecksniff, cheerfully. ‘And blot their entries out, but drops so precious that they usegone upstairs, I suppose?’them for their ink—stole down his meritorious cheeks.‘Yes sir. Gone upstairs. Shall I call him, sir?’‘What is the matter?’ asked old Martin. ‘Pecksniff, what‘No,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘no. You needn’t call him, Jane. ails you, man?’496

Charles Dickens‘I am sorry to interrupt you, my dear sir, and I am still had been developed.more sorry for the cause. My good, my worthy friend, I am ‘That is almost the worst of all, sir,’ Mr Pecksniff answered.deceived.’‘on a subject nearly concerning YOU. Oh! is it not enough,’‘You are deceived!’said Mr Pecksniff, looking upward, ‘that these blows must‘Ah!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, in an agony, ‘deceived in the fall on me, but must they also hit my friends!’tenderest point. Cruelly deceived in that quarter, sir, in which ‘You alarm me,’ cried the old man, changing colour. ‘I amI placed the most unbounded confidence. Deceived, Mr not so strong as I was. You terrify me, Pecksniff!’Chuzzlewit, by Thomas Pinch.’‘Cheer up, my noble sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, taking courage,‘Oh! bad, bad, bad!’ said Martin, laying down his book. ‘and we will do what is required of us. You shall know all, sir,‘Very bad! I hope not. Are you certain?’and shall be righted. But first excuse me, sir, excuse me. I have‘Certain, my good sir! My eyes and ears are witnesses. I wouldn’t a duty to discharge, which I owe to society.’have believed it otherwise. I wouldn’t have believed it, Mr He rang the bell, and Jane appeared. ‘Send Mr Pinch here,Chuzzlewit, if a Fiery Serpent had proclaimed it from the top of if you please, Jane.’Salisbury Cathedral. I would have said,’ cried Mr Pecksniff, ‘that Tom came. Constrained and altered in his manner, downcastand dejected, visibly confused; not liking to look Pecksniffthe Serpent lied. Such was my faith in Thomas Pinch, that Iwould have cast the falsehood back into the Serpent’s teeth, and in the face.would have taken Thomas to my heart. But I am not a Serpent, The honest man bestowed a glance on Mr Chuzzlewit, assir, myself, I grieve to say, and no excuse or hope is left me.’ who should say ‘You see!’ and addressed himself to Tom inMartin was greatly disturbed to see him so much agitated, these terms:and to hear such unexpected news. He begged him to composehimself, and asked upon what subject Mr Pinch’s treachery you do me the favour to go and secure it; then bring the‘Mr Pinch, I have left the vestry-window unfastened. Willkeys497

Martin Chuzzlewitof the sacred edifice to me!’be discharged, my friend, at any cost!’‘The vestry-window, sir?’ cried Tom.Oh, late-remembered, much-forgotten, mouthing, braggartduty, always owed, and seldom paid in any other coin‘You understand me, Mr Pinch, I think,’ returned his patron.‘Yes, Mr Pinch, the vestry-window. I grieve to say that than punishment and wrath, when will mankind begin tosleeping in the church after a fatiguing ramble, I overheard know thee! When will men acknowledge thee in thy neglectedjust now some fragments,’ he emphasised that word, ‘of a cradle, and thy stunted youth, and not begin their recognitionin thy sinful manhood and thy desolate old age! Oh,dialogue between two parties; and one of them locking thechurch when he went out, I was obliged to leave it myself by ermined Judge whose duty to society is, now, to doom thethe vestry-window. Do me the favour to secure that vestrywindow,Mr Pinch, and then come back to me.’Man, a duty to discharge in barring up the hundred openragged criminal to punishment and death, hadst thou never,No physiognomist that ever dwelt on earth could have construedTom’s face when he heard these words. Wonder was in ajar the portals to a decent life! Oh, prelate, prelate, whosegates that wooed him to the felon’s dock, and throwing butit, and a mild look of reproach, but certainly no fear or guilt, duty to society it is to mourn in melancholy phrase the sadalthough a host of strong emotions struggled to display themselves.He bowed, and without saying one word, good or been cast, did nothing go before thy elevation to the loftydegeneracy of these bad times in which thy lot of honours hasbad, withdrew.seat, from which thou dealest out thy homilies to other tarriers‘Pecksniff,’ cried Martin, in a tremble, ‘what does all this for dead men’s shoes, whose duty to society has not begun!mean? You are not going to do anything in haste, you may Oh! magistrate, so rare a country gentleman and brave a squire,regret!’had you no duty to society, before the ricks were blazing and‘No, my good sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, firmly, ‘No. But I the mob were mad; or did it spring up, armed and bootedhave a duty to discharge which I owe to society; and it shall from the earth, a corps of yeomanry full-grown!498

Charles DickensMr Pecksniff’s duty to society could not be paid till Tom Tom’s; a kind companion to him, many and many a day.came back. The interval which preceded the return of that ‘Mr Pinch,’ said Pecksniff, shaking his head; ‘oh, Mr Pinch!young man, he occupied in a close conference with his friend; I wonder you can look me in the face!’so that when Tom did arrive, he found the two quite ready to Tom did it though; and notwithstanding that he has beenreceive him. Mary was in her own room above, whither Mr described as stooping generally, he stood as upright then as manPecksniff, always considerate, had besought old Martin to could stand.entreat her to remain some half-hour longer, that her feelings ‘Mr Pinch,’ said Pecksniff, taking up his handkerchief, as ifmight be spared.he felt that he should want it soon, ‘I will not dwell upon theWhen Tom came back, he found old Martin sitting by the past. I will spare you, and I will spare myself, that pain atwindow, and Mr Pecksniff in an imposing attitude at the least.’table. On one side of him was his pocket-handkerchief; and Tom’s was not a very bright eye, but it was a very expressiveon the other a little heap (a very little heap) of gold and silver, one when he looked at Mr Pecksniff, and said:and odd pence. Tom saw, at a glance, that it was his own ‘Thank you, sir. I am very glad you will not refer to thesalary for the current quarter.past.’‘Have you fastened the vestry-window, Mr Pinch?’ said ‘The present is enough,’ said Mr Pecksniff, dropping aPecksniff.penny, ‘and the sooner that is past, the better. Mr Pinch, I‘Yes, sir.’will not dismiss you without a word of explanation. Even‘Thank you. Put down the keys if you please, Mr Pinch.’ such a course would be quite justifiable under the circumstances;but it might wear an appearance of hurry, and I willTom placed them on the table. He held the bunch by the keyof the organ-loft (though it was one of the smallest), and looked not do it; for I am,’ said Mr Pecksniff, knocking down anotherpenny, ‘perfectly self-possessed. Therefore I will say hard at it as he laid it down. It had been an old, old friend ofto499

Martin Chuzzlewityou, what I have already said to Mr Chuzzlewit.’putting your name to this receipt. You do not?’Tom glanced at the old gentleman, who nodded now and No, Tom did not. He scorned to deny it. He saw that Mrthen as approving of Mr Pecksniff’s sentences and sentiments, Pecksniff having overheard his own disgrace, cared not a jotbut interposed between them in no other way.for sinking lower yet in his contempt. He saw that he had‘From fragments of a conversation which I overheard in the devised this fiction as the readiest means of getting rid of himchurch, just now, Mr Pinch,’ said Pecksniff, ‘between yourself at once, but that it must end in that any way. He saw that Mrand Miss Graham—I say fragments, because I was slumbering Pecksniff reckoned on his not denying it, because his doingat a considerable distance from you, when I was roused by your so and explaining would incense the old man more than evervoices—and from what I saw, I ascertained (I would have given against Martin and against Mary; while Pecksniff himselfa great deal not to have ascertained, Mr Pinch) that you, forgetfulof all ties of duty and of honour, sir; regardless of the sacred No.would only have been mistaken in his ‘fragments.’ Deny it!laws of hospitality, to which you were pledged as an inmate of ‘You find the amount correct, do you, Mr Pinch?’ saidthis house; have presumed to address Miss Graham with Pecksniff.unreturned professions of attachment and proposals of love.’ ‘Quite correct, sir,’ answered Tom.Tom looked at him steadily.‘A person is waiting in the kitchen,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘to‘Do you deny it, sir?’ asked Mr Pecksniff, dropping one carry your luggage wherever you please. We part, Mr Pinch,pound two and fourpence, and making a great business of at once, and are strangers from this time.’picking it up again.Something without a name; compassion, sorrow, old tenderness,mistaken gratitude, habit; none of these, and yet all‘No, sir,’ replied Tom. ‘I do not.’‘You do not,’ said Mr Pecksniff, glancing at the old gentleman.‘Oblige me by counting this money, Mr Pinch, and was no such soul as Pecksniff’s in that carcase; and yet,of them; smote upon Tom’s gentle heart at parting. Therethough500

Charles Dickenshis speaking out had not involved the compromise of one he ‘This is your double eye-glass, I believe?’ said Tom.loved, he couldn’t have denounced the very shape and figure ‘Oh!’ cried Pecksniff, with some degree of confusion. ‘I amof the man. Not even then.obliged to you. Put it down, if you please.’‘I will not say,’ cried Mr Pecksniff, shedding tears, ‘what a ‘I found it,’ said Tom, slowly—’when I went to bolt theblow this is. I will not say how much it tries me; how it works vestry-window—in the pew.’upon my nature; how it grates upon my feelings. I do not care So he had. Mr Pecksniff had taken it off when he was bobbingup and down, lest it should strike against the panelling;for that. I can endure as well as another man. But what I haveto hope, and what you have to hope, Mr Pinch (otherwise a and had forgotten it. Going back to the church with his mindgreat responsibility rests upon you), is, that this deception may full of having been watched, and wondering very much fromnot alter my ideas of humanity; that it may not impair my what part, Tom’s attention was caught by the door of thefreshness, or contract, if I may use the expression, my Pinions. state pew standing open. Looking into it he found the glass.I hope it will not; I don’t think it will. It may be a comfort to And thus he knew, and by returning it gave Mr Pecksniff theyou, if not now, at some future time, to know that I shall information that he knew, where the listener had been; andendeavour not to think the worse of my fellow-creatures in that instead of overhearing fragments of the conversation, hegeneral, for what has passed between us. Farewell!’must have rejoiced in every word of it.Tom had meant to spare him one little puncturation with a ‘I am glad he’s gone,’ said Martin, drawing a long breathlancet, which he had it in his power to administer, but he when Tom had left the room.changed his mind on hearing this, and said:‘It is a relief,’ assented Mr Pecksniff. ‘It is a great relief. But‘I think you left something in the church, sir.’having discharged—I hope with tolerable firmness—the duty‘Thank you, Mr Pinch,’ said Pecksniff. ‘I am not aware which I owed to society, I will now, my dear sir, if you will givethat I did.’me leave, retire to shed a few tears in the back garden, as an501

Martin Chuzzlewithumble individual.’especially of his sister; who always being presented as extremelyTom went upstairs; cleared his shelf of books; packed them beautiful, made full amends to Tom for any other jokes. Underup with his music and an old fiddle in his trunk; got out his less uncommon circumstances, it would have cut Tom to theclothes (they were not so many that they made his head ache); heart to leave these things and think that he saw them for theput them on the top of his books; and went into the workroomfor his case of instruments. There was a ragged stool never had been a Pecksniff; and all his other griefs were swal-last time; but it didn’t now. There was no Pecksniff; therethere, with the horsehair all sticking out of the top like a wig: lowed up in that.a very Beast of a stool in itself; on which he had taken up his So, when he returned into the bedroom, and, having fastenedhis box and a carpet-bag, put on his walking gaiters,daily seat, year after year, during the whole period of his service.They had grown older and shabbier in company. Pupils and his great-coat, and his hat, and taken his stick in his hand,had served their time; seasons had come and gone. Tom and looked round it for the last time. Early on summer mornings,and by the light of private candle-ends on winter nights,the worn-out stool had held together through it all. That partof the room was traditionally called ‘Tom’s Corner.’ It had he had read himself half blind in this same room. He hadbeen assigned to him at first because of its being situated in a tried in this same room to learn the fiddle under the bedclothes,but yielding to objections from the other pupils, hadstrong draught, and a great way from the fire; and he hadoccupied it ever since. There were portraits of him on the reluctantly abandoned the design. At any other time he wouldwalls, with all his weak points monstrously portrayed. Diabolicalsentiments, foreign to his character, were represented there, of the many hours he had passed there; for the love ofhave parted from it with a pang, thinking of all he had learnedas issuing from his mouth in fat balloons. Every pupil had his very dreams. But there was no Pecksniff; there never hadadded something, even unto fancy portraits of his father with been a Pecksniff, and the unreality of Pecksniff extended itselfto the chamber, in which, sitting on one particular one eye, and of his mother with a disproportionate nose, andbed,502

Charles Dickensthe thing supposed to be that Great Abstraction had often ‘No,’ said Tom, ‘no. I shall walk to Salisbury to-night. Ipreached morality with such effect that Tom had felt a moisturein his eyes, while hanging breathless on the words. happy, Mrs Lupin.’couldn’t stay here. For goodness’ sake, don’t make me so un-The man engaged to bear his box—Tom knew him well: a ‘But you’ll come to the Dragon, Mr Pinch. If it’s only forDragon man—came stamping up the stairs, and made a tonight. To see me, you know; not as a traveller.’roughish bow to Tom (to whom in common times he would ‘God bless my soul!’ said Tom, wiping his eyes. ‘The kindnessof people is enough to break one’s heart! I mean to go tohave nodded with a grin) as though he were aware of whathad happened, and wished him to perceive it made no differenceto him. It was clumsily done; he was a mere waterer of of my box for me till I write for it, I shall consider it theSalisbury to-night, my dear good creature. If you’ll take carehorses; but Tom liked the man for it, and felt it more than greatest kindness you can do me.’going away.‘I wish,’ cried Mrs Lupin, ‘there were twenty boxes, MrTom would have helped him with the box, but he made no Pinch, that I might have ‘em all.’more of it, though it was a heavy one, than an elephant would ‘Thank’ee,’ said Tom. ‘It’s like you. Good-bye. Good-bye.’have made of a castle; just swinging it on his back and bowlingdownstairs as if, being naturally a heavy sort of fellow, he the door, some of whom cried with Mrs Lupin; while othersThere were several people, young and old, standing aboutcould carry a box infinitely better than he could go alone. tried to keep up a stout heart, as Tom did; and others wereTom took the carpet-bag, and went downstairs along with absorbed in admiration of Mr Pecksniff—a man who couldhim. At the outer door stood Jane, crying with all her might; build a church, as one may say, by squinting at a sheet ofand on the steps was Mrs Lupin, sobbing bitterly, and puttingout her hand for Tom to shake.pathy with Tom. Mr Pecksniff had appeared on the top ofpaper; and others were divided between that feeling and sym-‘You’re coming to the Dragon, Mr Pinch?’the steps, simultaneously with his old pupil, and while Tom503

Martin Chuzzlewitwas talking with Mrs Lupin kept his hand stretched out, as ‘Why, goodness, where’s the gig, then?’ cried the tollman’sthough he said ‘Go forth!’ When Tom went forth, and had wife, looking down the road, as if she thought Tom mightturned the corner Mr Pecksniff shook his head, shut his eyes, have been upset without observing it.and heaving a deep sigh, shut the door. On which, the best of ‘I haven’t got it,’ said Tom. ‘I—’ he couldn’t evade it; he feltTom’s supporters said he must have done some dreadful deed, she would have him in the next question, if he got over thisor such a man as Mr Pecksniff never could have felt like that. one. ‘I have left Mr Pecksniff.’If it had been a common quarrel (they observed), he would The tollman—a crusty customer, always smoking solitaryhave said something, but when he didn’t, Mr Pinch must pipes in a Windsor chair, inside, set artfully between two littlehave shocked him dreadfully.windows that looked up and down the road, so that when heTom was out of hearing of their shrewd opinions, and ploddedon as steadily as he could go, until he came within sight to take, and when he saw it going down, might hug himselfsaw anything coming up he might hug himself on having tollof the turnpike where the tollman’s family had cried out ‘Mr on having taken it—the tollman was out in an instant.Pinch!’ that frosty morning, when he went to meet young ‘Left Mr Pecksniff!’ cried the tollman.Martin. He had got through the village, and this toll-bar was ‘Yes,’ said Tom, ‘left him.’his last trial; but when the infant toll-takers came screeching The tollman looked at his wife, uncertain whether to askout, he had half a mind to run for it, and make a bolt across her if she had anything to suggest, or to order her to mind thethe country.children. Astonishment making him surly, he preferred the‘Why, deary Mr Pinch! oh, deary sir!’ cried the tollman’s latter, and sent her into the toll-house with a flea in her ear.wife. ‘What an unlikely time for you to be a-going this way ‘You left Mr Pecksniff!’ cried the tollman, folding his arms,with a bag!’and spreading his legs. ‘I should as soon have thought of his‘I am going to Salisbury,’ said Tom.head leaving him.’504

Charles Dickens‘Aye!’ said Tom, ‘so should I, yesterday. Good night!’ The evening was beautiful at first, but it became cloudy andIf a heavy drove of oxen hadn’t come by immediately, the dull at sunset, and the rain fell heavily soon afterwards. Fortollman would have gone down to the village straight, to inquireinto it. As things turned out, he smoked another pipe, lights appeared, and he came into the welcome precincts often long miles he plodded on, wet through, until at last theand took his wife into his confidence. But their united sagacity the city.could make nothing of it, and they went to bed—metaphorically—inthe dark. But several times that night, when a waggon briefly answering their inquiries after Mr Pecksniff, ordered aHe went to the inn where he had waited for Martin, andor other vehicle came through, and the driver asked the tollkeeper bed. He had no heart for tea or supper, meat or drink of any‘What news?’ he looked at the man by the light of his lantern, kind, but sat by himself before an empty table in the publicto assure himself that he had an interest in the subject, and then room while the bed was getting ready, revolving in his mindsaid, wrapping his watch-coat round his legs:all that had happened that eventful day, and wondering what‘You’ve heerd of Mr Pecksniff down yonder?’he could or should do for the future. It was a great relief‘Ah! sure-ly!’when the chambermaid came in, and said the bed was ready.‘And of his young man Mr Pinch, p’raps?’It was a low four-poster, shelving downward in the centre‘Ah!’like a trough, and the room was crowded with impracticable‘They’ve parted.’tables and exploded chests of drawers, full of damp linen. AAfter every one of these disclosures, the tollman plunged graphic representation in oil of a remarkably fat ox hung overinto his house again, and was seen no more, while the other the fireplace, and the portrait of some former landlord (whoside went on in great amazement.might have been the ox’s brother, he was so like him) staredBut this was long after Tom was abed, and Tom was now roundly in, at the foot of the bed. A variety of queer smellswith his face towards Salisbury, doing his best to get there. were partially quenched in the prevailing scent of very old505

Martin Chuzzlewitlavender; and the window had not been opened for such a there received, and conducted to her peaceful home beneathlong space of time that it pleaded immemorial usage, and the shadow of the Monument, by Mrs Todgers. M. Todgerswouldn’t come open now.looked a little worn by cares of gravy and other such solicitudesarising out of her establishment, but displayed her usualThese were trifles in themselves, but they added to thestrangeness of the place, and did not induce Tom to forget his earnestness and warmth of manner.new position. Pecksniff had gone out of the world—had never ‘And how, my sweet Miss Pecksniff,’ said she, ‘how is yourbeen in it—and it was as much as Tom could do to say his princely pa?’prayers without him. But he felt happier afterwards, and went Miss Pecksniff signified (in confidence) that he contemplatedthe introduction of a princely ma; and repeated theto sleep, and dreamed about him as he Never Was.sentiment that she wasn’t blind, and wasn’t quite a fool, andwouldn’t bear it.Mrs Todgers was more shocked by the intelligence than anyCHAPTER THIRTY-TWOone could have expected. She was quite bitter. She said therewas no truth in man and that the warmer he expressed himself,as a general principle, the falser and more treacherous heTREATS OF TODGER’S AGAIN;AND OF ANOTHER BLIGHTED PLANTwas. She foresaw with astonishing clearness that the object ofBESIDESMr Pecksniff’s attachment was designing, worthless, andTHE PLANTS UPON THE LEADSwicked; and receiving from Charity the fullest confirmationof these views, protested with tears in her eyes that she lovedEARLY ON THE DAY NEXT after that on which she bade adieu toMiss Pecksniff like a sister, and felt her injuries as if they werethe halls of her youth and the scenes of her childhood, Missher own.Pecksniff, arriving safely at the coach-office in London, was506

Charles Dickens‘Your real darling sister, I have not seen her more than once him again and again, sitting over his pie at dinner, with hissince her marriage,’ said Mrs Todgers, ‘and then I thought her spoon a perfect fixture in his mouth, looking at your sister. Ilooking poorly. My sweet Miss Pecksniff, I always thought have seen him standing in a corner of our drawing-room,that you was to be the lady?’gazing at her, in such a lonely, melancholy state, that he was‘Oh dear no!’ cried Cherry, shaking her head. ‘Oh no, Mrs more like a Pump than a man, and might have drawed tears.’Todgers. Thank you. No! not for any consideration he could ‘I never saw it!’ cried Cherry; ‘that’s all I can say.’offer.’‘But when the marriage took place,’ said Mrs Todgers, proceedingwith her subject, ‘when it was in the paper, and was‘I dare say you are right,’ said Mrs Todgers with a sigh. ‘Ifeared it all along. But the misery we have had from that read out here at breakfast, I thought he had taken leave of hismatch, here among ourselves, in this house, my dear Miss senses, I did indeed. The violence of that young man, myPecksniff, nobody would believe.’dear Miss Pecksniff; the frightful opinions he expressed upon‘Lor, Mrs Todgers!’the subject of self-destruction; the extraordinary actions he‘Awful, awful!’ repeated Mrs Todgers, with strong emphasis.‘You recollect our youngest gentleman, my dear?’ bread and butter; the manner in which he taunted Mr Jinkins;performed with his tea; the clenching way in which he bit his‘Of course I do,’ said Cherry.all combined to form a picture never to be forgotten.’‘You might have observed,’ said Mrs Todgers, ‘how he used ‘It’s a pity he didn’t destroy himself, I think,’ observed Missto watch your sister; and that a kind of stony dumbness came Pecksniff.over him whenever she was in company?’‘Himself!’ said Mrs Todgers, ‘it took another turn at night.‘I am sure I never saw anything of the sort,’ said Cherry, in He was for destroying other people then. There was a littlea peevish manner. ‘What nonsense, Mrs Todgers!’chaffing going on—I hope you don’t consider that a low expression,Miss Pecksniff; it is always in our ‘My dear,’ returned that lady in a hollow voice, ‘I have seengentlemen’s507

Martin Chuzzlewitmouths—a little chaffing going on, my dear, among ‘em, all in company was reduced, did not say much for her power ofin good nature, when suddenly he rose up, foaming with his sympathising with that unfortunate character. She treated itfury, and but for being held by three would have had Mr with great levity, and went on to inform herself, then andJinkins’s life with a bootjack.’afterwards, whether any other changes had occurred in theMiss Pecksniff’s face expressed supreme indifference. commercial boarding-house.‘And now,’ said Mrs Todgers, ‘now he is the meekest of Mr Bailey was gone, and had been succeeded (such is themen. You can almost bring the tears into his eyes by looking decay of human greatness!) by an old woman whose nameat him. He sits with me the whole day long on Sundays, was reported to be Tamaroo—which seemed an impossibility.Indeed it appeared in the fullness of time that the joculartalking in such a dismal way that I find it next to impossibleto keep my spirits up equal to the accommodation of the boarders had appropriated the word from an English ballad,boarders. His only comfort is in female society. He takes me in which it is supposed to express the bold and fiery nature ofhalf-price to the play, to an extent which I sometimes fear is a certain hackney coachman; and that it was bestowed uponbeyond his means; and I see the tears a-standing in his eyes Mr Bailey’s successor by reason of her having nothing fieryduring the whole performance—particularly if it is anything about her, except an occasional attack of that fire which isof a comic nature. The turn I experienced only yesterday,’ called St. Anthony’s. This ancient female had been engaged,said Mrs Todgers putting her hand to her side, ‘when the housemaidthrew his bedside carpet out of the window of his room, more boys should darken the commercial doors; and she wasin fulfillment of a vow, registered by Mrs Todgers, that nowhile I was sitting here, no one can imagine. I thought it was chiefly remarkable for a total absence of all comprehensionhim, and that he had done it at last!’upon every subject whatever. She was a perfect Tomb forThe contempt with which Miss Charity received this patheticaccount of the state to which the youngest gentleman Office with letters, had been frequently seen endeavouringmessages and small parcels; and when dispatched to the Postto508

Charles Dickensinsinuate them into casual chinks in private doors, under the peculiar mission was to pipe his eye. Which he did perpetually.delusion that any door with a hole in it would answer the He often informed Mrs Todgers that the sun had set uponpurpose. She was a very little old woman, and always wore a him; that the billows had rolled over him; that the car ofvery coarse apron with a bib before and a loop behind, togetherwith bandages on her wrists, which appeared to be tree of Java had blighted him. His name was Moddle.Juggernaut had crushed him, and also that the deadly Upasafflicted with an everlasting sprain. She was on all occasions Towards this most unhappy Moddle, Miss Pecksniff conductedherself at first with distant haughtiness, being in nochary of opening the street door, and ardent to shut it again;and she waited at table in a bonnet.humour to be entertained with dirges in honour of her marriedsister. The poor young gentleman was additionallyThis was the only great change over and above the changewhich had fallen on the youngest gentleman. As for him, he crushed by this, and remonstrated with Mrs Todgers on themore than corroborated the account of Mrs Todgers; possessinggreater sensibility than even she had given him credit for. ‘Even she turns from me, Mrs Todgers,’ said Moddle.subject.He entertained some terrible notions of Destiny, among other ‘Then why don’t you try and be a little bit more cheerful,matters, and talked much about people’s ‘Missions’; upon which sir?’ retorted Mrs Todgers.he seemed to have some private information not generally attainable,as he knew it had been poor Merry’s mission to crush man; ‘when she reminds me of days for ever fled, Mrs Todgers!’‘Cheerful, Mrs Todgers! cheerful!’ cried the youngest gentle-him in the bud. He was very frail and tearful; for being aware ‘Then you had better avoid her for a short time, if she does,’that a shepherd’s mission was to pipe to his flocks, and that a said Mrs Todgers, ‘and come to know her again, by degrees. That’sboatswain’s mission was to pipe all hands, and that one man’s my advice.’mission was to be a paid piper, and another man’s mission was ‘But I can’t avoid her,’ replied Moddle, ‘I haven’t strengthto pay the piper, so he had got it into his head that his own of mind to do it. Oh, Mrs Todgers, if you knew what a com-509

Martin Chuzzlewitfort her nose is to me!’a rubber at cribbage. Mr Moddle taking up the gauntlet, they‘Her nose, sir!’ Mrs Todgers cried.played several rubbers for sixpences, and Charity won them‘Her profile, in general,’ said the youngest gentleman, ‘but all. This may have been partially attributable to the gallantryparticularly her nose. It’s so like;’ here he yielded to a burst of of the youngest gentleman, but it was certainly referable togrief. ‘it’s so like hers who is Another’s, Mrs Todgers!’ the state of his feelings also; for his eyes being frequentlyThe observant matron did not fail to report this conversationto Charity, who laughed at the time, but treated Mr queens, which at times occasioned some confusion in his play.dimmed by tears, he thought that aces were tens, and knavesModdle that very evening with increased consideration, and On the seventh night of cribbage, when Mrs Todgers, sittingby, proposed that instead of gambling they should playpresented her side face to him as much as possible. Mr Moddlewas not less sentimental than usual; was rather more so, if for ‘love,’ Mr Moddle was seen to change colour. On theanything; but he sat and stared at her with glistening eyes, and fourteenth night, he kissed Miss Pecksniff’s snuffers, in theseemed grateful.passage, when she went upstairs to bed; meaning to have kissed‘Well, sir!’ said the lady of the Boarding-House next day. her hand, but missing it.‘You held up your head last night. You’re coming round, I In short, Mr Moddle began to be impressed with the ideathink.’that Miss Pecksniff’s mission was to comfort him; and Miss‘Only because she’s so like her who is Another’s, Mrs Pecksniff began to speculate on the probability of its beingTodgers,’ rejoined the youth. ‘When she talks, and when she her mission to become ultimately Mrs Moddle. He was asmiles, I think I’m looking on her brow again, Mrs Todgers.’ young gentleman (Miss Pecksniff was not a very young lady)This was likewise carried to Charity, who talked and smiled with rising prospects, and ‘almost’ enough to live on. Reallynext evening in her most engaging manner, and rallying Mr it looked very well.Moddle on the lowness of his spirits, challenged him to play Besides—besides—he had been regarded as devoted to Merry.510

Charles DickensMerry had joked about him, and had once spoken of it to her returned Mrs Todgers. ‘They baulk themselves continually. Isister as a conquest. He was better looking, better shaped, better saw the words on Todgers’s lips for months and months andspoken, better tempered, better mannered than Jonas. He was months, before he said ‘em.’easy to manage, could be made to consult the humours of his Miss Pecksniff submitted that Todgers might not have beenBetrothed, and could be shown off like a lamb when Jonas was a fair specimen.a bear. There was the rub!‘Oh yes, he was. Oh bless you, yes, my dear. I was veryIn the meantime the cribbage went on, and Mrs Todgers particular in those days, I assure you,’ said Mrs Todgers, bridling.‘No, no. You give Mr Moddle a little encouragement,went off; for the youngest gentleman, dropping her society,began to take Miss Pecksniff to the play. He also began, as Miss Pecksniff, if you wish him to speak; and he’ll speak fastMrs Todgers said, to slip home ‘in his dinner-times,’ and to enough, depend upon it.’get away from ‘the office’ at unholy seasons; and twice, as he ‘I am sure I don’t know what encouragement he wouldinformed Mrs Todgers himself, he received anonymous letters,enclosing cards from Furniture Warehouses—clearly the and plays cards with me, and he comes and sits alone withhave, Mrs Todgers,’ returned Charity. ‘He walks with me,act of that ungentlemanly ruffian Jinkins; only he hadn’t evidenceenough to call him out upon. All of which, so Mrs ‘Quite right,’ said Mrs Todgers. ‘That’s indispensable, myme.’Todgers told Miss Pecksniff, spoke as plain English as the dear.’shining sun.‘And he sits very close to me.’‘My dear Miss Pecksniff, you may depend upon it,’ said ‘Also quite correct,’ said Mrs Todgers.Mrs Todgers, ‘that he is burning to propose.’‘And he looks at me.’‘My goodness me, why don’t he then?’ cried Cherry. ‘To be sure he does,’ said Mrs Todgers.‘Men are so much more timid than we think ‘em, my dear,’ ‘And he has his arm upon the back of the chair or sofa, or511

Martin Chuzzlewitwhatever it is—behind me, you know.’gentleman and lady in society usually are. She was glad she‘I should think so,’ said Mrs Todgers.had had the resolution to say thus much before her feelings‘And then he begins to cry!’had been tried too far; they had been greatly tried, she wouldMrs Todgers admitted that he might do better than that; admit; but though she was weak and silly, she would soon getand might undoubtedly profit by the recollection of the great the better of it, she hoped.Lord Nelson’s signal at the battle of Trafalgar. Still, she said, Moddle, who had by this time become in the last degreehe would come round, or, not to mince the matter, would be maudlin, and wept abundantly, inferred from the foregoingbrought round, if Miss Pecksniff took up a decided position, avowal, that it was his mission to communicate to others theand plainly showed him that it must be done.blight which had fallen on himself; and that, being a kind ofDetermining to regulate her conduct by this opinion, the unintentional Vampire, he had had Miss Pecksniff assignedyoung lady received Mr Moddle, on the earliest subsequent to him by the Fates, as Victim Number One. Miss Pecksniffoccasion, with an air of constraint; and gradually leading him controverting this opinion as sinful, Moddle was goaded onto inquire, in a dejected manner, why she was so changed, to ask whether she could be contented with a blighted heart;confessed to him that she felt it necessary for their mutual and it appearing on further examination that she could be,peace and happiness to take a decided step. They had been plighted his dismal troth, which was accepted and returned.much together lately, she observed, much together, and had He bore his good fortune with the utmost moderation.tasted the sweets of a genuine reciprocity of sentiment. She Instead of being triumphant, he shed more tears than he hadnever could forget him, nor could she ever cease to think of ever been known to shed before; and, sobbing, said:him with feelings of the liveliest friendship, but people had ‘Oh! what a day this has been! I can’t go back to the officebegun to talk, the thing had been observed, and it was necessarythat they should be nothing more to each other, than anythis afternoon. Oh, what a trying day this has been! GoodGracious!’512

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREEFURTHER PROCEEDINGS IN EDEN,AND A PROCEEDING OUT OF IT.MARTIN MAKES A DISCOVERY OF SOMEIMPORTANCEFROM MR MODDLE to Eden is an easy and natural transition.Mr Moddle, living in the atmosphere of Miss Pecksniff’s love,dwelt (if he had but known it) in a terrestrial Paradise. Thethriving city of Eden was also a terrestrial Paradise, upon theshowing of its proprietors. The beautiful Miss Pecksniff mighthave been poetically described as a something too good forman in his fallen and degraded state. That was exactly the characterof the thriving city of Eden, as poetically heightened byZephaniah Scadder, General Choke, and other worthies; partand parcel of the talons of that great American Eagle, which isalways airing itself sky-high in purest aether, and never, no never,Charles Dickens513never, tumbles down with draggled wings into the mud.When Mark Tapley, leaving Martin in the architectural andsurveying offices, had effectually strengthened and encouragedhis own spirits by the contemplation of their joint misfortunes,he proceeded, with new cheerfulness, in search ofhelp; congratulating himself, as he went along, on the enviableposition to which he had at last attained.‘I used to think, sometimes,’ said Mr Tapley, ‘as a desolateisland would suit me, but I should only have had myself toprovide for there, and being naturally a easy man to manage,there wouldn’t have been much credit in that. Now here I’vegot my partner to take care on, and he’s something like thesort of man for the purpose. I want a man as is always a-sliding off his legs when he ought to be on ‘em. I want a manas is so low down in the school of life that he’s always a-making figures of one in his copy-book, and can’t get no further.I want a man as is his own great coat and cloak, and isalways a-wrapping himself up in himself. And I have got himtoo,’ said Mr Tapley, after a moment’s silence. ‘What a happiness!’He paused to look round, uncertain to which of the log-

Martin Chuzzlewithouses he should repair.sailing line-of-packet ship, the Screw.‘I don’t know which to take,’ he observed; ‘that’s the truth. ‘My eyes is wrong!’ said Mark. ‘I don’t believe ‘em. That ain’tThey’re equally prepossessing outside, and equally commodious,no doubt, within; being fitted up with every conve-sorry to see, is so delicate; and that ain’t her husband as come tomy fellow-passenger younder, a-nursing her little girl, who, I amnience that a Alligator, in a state of natur’, could possibly New York to fetch her. Nor these,’ he added, looking down uponrequire. Let me see! The citizen as turned out last night, lives the boys, ‘ain’t them two young shavers as was so familiar to me;under water, in the right hand dog-kennel at the corner. I though they are uncommon like ‘em. That I must confess.’don’t want to trouble him if I can help it, poor man, for he is The woman shed tears, in very joy to see him; the mana melancholy object; a reg’lar Settler in every respect. There’s shook both his hands and would not let them go; the twohouse with a winder, but I am afraid of their being proud. I boys hugged his legs; the sick child in the mother’s armsdon’t know whether a door ain’t too aristocratic; but here stretched out her burning little fingers, and muttered, in hergoes for the first one!’hoarse, dry throat, his well-remembered name.He went up to the nearest cabin, and knocked with his It was the same family, sure enough. Altered by the salubriousair of Eden. But the same.hand. Being desired to enter, he complied.‘Neighbour,’ said Mark; ‘for I am a neighbour, though you ‘This is a new sort of a morning call,’ said Mark, drawing adon’t know me; I’ve come a-begging. Hallo! hal—lo! Am I a- long breath. ‘It strikes one all of a heap. Wait a little bit! I’mbed, and dreaming!’a-coming round fast. That’ll do! These gentlemen ain’t myHe made this exclamation on hearing his own name pronounced,and finding himself clasped about the skirts by two The inquiry referred to certain gaunt pigs, who had walkedfriends. Are they on the visiting list of the house?’little boys, whose faces he had often washed, and whose suppershe had often cooked, on board of that noble and fast-family. As they did not belong to the mansion, theyin after him, and were much interested in the heels of thewere514

Charles Dickensexpelled by the two little boys.ticles against the walls; the damp that blotched the ground;‘I ain’t superstitious about toads,’ said Mark, looking round or the crop of vegetable rottenness in every crevice of thethe room, ‘but if you could prevail upon the two or three I hut.see in company, to step out at the same time, my young friends, ‘How is it that you have come here?’ asked the man, whenI think they’d find the open air refreshing. Not that I at all their first expressions of surprise were over.object to ‘em. A very handsome animal is a toad,’ said Mr ‘Why, we come by the steamer last night,’ replied Mark.Tapley, sitting down upon a stool; ‘very spotted; very like a ‘Our intention is to make our fortuns with punctuality andpartickler style of old gentleman about the throat; very brighteyed,very cool, and very slippy. But one sees ‘em to the best realised. But how are you all? You’re looking noble!’dispatch; and to retire upon our property as soon as ever it’sadvantage out of doors perhaps.’‘We are but sickly now,’ said the poor woman, bendingWhile pretending, with such talk as this, to be perfectly at over her child. ‘But we shall do better when we are seasonedhis ease, and to be the most indifferent and careless of men, to the place.’Mark Tapley had an eye on all around him. The wan and ‘There are some here,’ thought Mark ‘whose seasoning willmeagre aspect of the family, the changed looks of the poor last for ever.’mother, the fevered child she held in her lap, the air of great But he said cheerfully, ‘Do better! To be sure you will. Wedespondency and little hope on everything, were plain to shall all do better. What we’ve got to do is, to keep up ourhim, and made a deep impression on his mind. He saw it all spirits, and be neighbourly. We shall come all right in theas clearly and as quickly, as with his bodily eyes he saw the end, never fear. That reminds me, by the bye, that my partner’srough shelves supported by pegs driven between the logs, of all wrong just at present; and that I looked in to beg for him.which the house was made; the flour-cask in the corner, I wish you’d come and give me your opinion of him, master.’serving also for a table; the blankets, spades, and other ar-That must have been a very unreasonable request on the515

Martin Chuzzlewitpart of Mark Tapley, with which, in their gratitude for his how he could best alleviate the sufferings of Martin. His attentionsdid not stop there; for he was backwards and for-kind offices on board the ship, they would not have compliedinstantly. The man rose to accompany him without a wards constantly, and rendered Mark good service in all hismoment’s delay. Before they went, Mark took the sick child brisk attempts to make their situation more endurable. Hopein his arms, and tried to comfort the mother; but the hand of or comfort for the future he could not bestow. The seasondeath was on it then, he saw.was a sickly one; the settlement a grave. His child died thatThey found Martin in the house, lying wrapped up in his night; and Mark, keeping the secret from Martin, helped toblanket on the ground. He was, to all appearance, very ill bury it, beneath a tree, next day.indeed, and shook and shivered horribly; not as people do With all his various duties of attendance upon Martin (whofrom cold, but in a frightful kind of spasm or convulsion, became the more exacting in his claims, the worse he grew),that racked his whole body. Mark’s friend pronounced his Mark worked out of doors, early and late; and with the assistanceof his friend and others, laboured to do something withdisease an aggravated kind of fever, accompanied with ague;which was very common in those parts, and which he predictedwould be worse to-morrow, and for many more to-or steady purpose in so doing, beyond the habitual cheerfulnesstheir land. Not that he had the least strength of heart or hope,morrows. He had had it himself off and on, he said, for a of his disposition, and his amazing power of self-sustainment;couple of years or so; but he was thankful that, while so many for within himself, he looked on their condition as beyond allhe had known had died about him, he had escaped with life. hope, and, in his own words, ‘came out strong’ in consequence.‘And with not too much of that,’ thought Mark, surveying ‘As to coming out as strong as I could wish, sir,’ he confidedhis emaciated form. ‘Eden for ever!’to Martin in a leisure moment; that is to say, one evening,They had some medicine in their chest; and this man of sad while he was washing the linen of the establishment, after aexperience showed Mark how and when to administer it, and hard day’s work, ‘that I give up. It’s a piece of good fortune as516

Charles Dickensnever is to happen to me, I see!’‘Worse than ever,’ said poor Martin.‘Would you wish for circumstances stronger than these?’ ‘That’s something,’ returned Mark, ‘but not enough. Nothingbut being very bad myself, and jolly to the last, will everMartin retorted with a groan, from underneath his blanket.‘Why, only see how easy they might have been stronger, do me justice.’sir,’ said Mark, ‘if it wasn’t for the envy of that uncommon ‘In Heaven’s name, don’t talk of that,’ said Martin with afortun of mine, which is always after me, and tripping me thrill of terror. ‘What should I do, Mark, if you were taken ill!’up. The night we landed here, I thought things did look pretty Mr Tapley’s spirits appeared to be stimulated by this remark,although it was not a very flattering one. He proceededjolly. I won’t deny it. I thought they did look pretty jolly.’‘How do they look now?’ groaned Martin.with his washing in a brighter mood; and observed ‘that his‘Ah!’ said Mark, ‘Ah, to be sure. That’s the question. How glass was arising.’do they look now? On the very first morning of my going ‘There’s one good thing in this place, sir,’ said Mr Tapley,out, what do I do? Stumble on a family I know, who are scrubbing away at the linen, ‘as disposes me to be jolly; andconstantly assisting of us in all sorts of ways, from that time that is that it’s a reg’lar little United States in itself. There’sto this! That won’t do, you know; that ain’t what I’d a right two or three American settlers left; and they coolly comesto expect. If I had stumbled on a serpent and got bit; or over one, even here, sir, as if it was the wholesomest and loveliestspot in the world. But they’re like the cock that wentstumbled on a first-rate patriot, and got bowie-knifed, orstumbled on a lot of Sympathisers with inverted shirt-collars, and hid himself to save his life, and was found out by theand got made a lion of; I might have distinguished myself, noise he made. They can’t help crowing. They was born to doand earned some credit. As it is, the great object of my voyage it, and do it they must, whatever comes of it.’is knocked on the head. So it would be, wherever I went. Glancing from his work out at the door as he said theseHow do you feel to-night, sir?’words, Mark’s eyes encountered a lean person in a blue frock517

Martin Chuzzlewitand a straw hat, with a short black pipe in his mouth, and a eye, as the song says, was upon him.great hickory stick studded all over with knots, in his hand; ‘You need not regard me, sir,’ observed Mr Chollop, complacently.‘I am fever-proof, and likewise agur.’who smoking and chewing as he came along, and spittingfrequently, recorded his progress by a train of decomposed ‘Mine was a more selfish motive,’ said Martin, looking outtobacco on the ground.again. ‘I was afraid you were going to—’‘Here’s one on ‘em,’ cried Mark, ‘Hannibal Chollop.’ ‘I can calc’late my distance, sir,’ returned Mr Chollop, ‘to an‘Don’t let him in,’ said Martin, feebly.inch.’‘He won’t want any letting in,’ replied Mark. ‘He’ll come With a proof of which happy faculty he immediately favouredin, sir.’ Which turned out to be quite true, for he did. His him.face was almost as hard and knobby as his stick; and so were ‘I re-quire, sir,’ said Hannibal, ‘two foot clear in a circ’larhis hands. His head was like an old black hearth-broom. He di-rection, and can engage my-self toe keep within it. I havesat down on the chest with his hat on; and crossing his legs gone ten foot, in a circ’lar di-rection, but that was for a wager.’and looking up at Mark, said, without removing his pipe:‘Well, Mr Co.! and how do you git along, sir?’‘I hope you won it, sir,’ said Mark.It may be necessary to observe that Mr Tapley had gravely ‘Well, sir, I realised the stakes,’ said Chollop. ‘Yes, sir.’introduced himself to all strangers, by that name.He was silent for a time, during which he was actively engagedin the formation of a magic circle round the chest on‘Pretty well, sir; pretty well,’ said Mark.‘If this ain’t Mr Chuzzlewit, ain’t it!’ exclaimed the visitor which he sat. When it was completed, he began to talk again.‘How do you git along, sir?’‘How do you like our country, sir?’ he inquired, looking atMartin shook his head, and drew the blanket over it involuntarily;for he felt that Hannibal was going to spit; and his ‘Not at all,’ was the invalid’sMartin.reply.518

Charles DickensChollop continued to smoke without the least appearance ‘They’d say it was an uncommon nasty one, I should think,of emotion, until he felt disposed to speak again. That time said Mark; ‘and that they would rather be inoculated for feverat length arriving, he took his pipe from his mouth, and said: in some other way.’‘I am not surprised to hear you say so. It re-quires An elevation,and A preparation of the intellect. The mind of man Europian!’‘Europian!’ remarked Chollop, with sardonic pity. ‘Quitemust be prepared for Freedom, Mr Co.’And there he sat. Silent and cool, as if the house were his;He addressed himself to Mark; because he saw that Martin, smoking away like a factory chimney.who wished him to go, being already half-mad with feverish Mr Chollop was, of course, one of the most remarkableirritation, which the droning voice of this new horror renderedalmost insupportable, had closed his eyes, and turned sides. He was usually described by his friends, in the Southmen in the country; but he really was a notorious person be-on his uneasy bed.and West, as ‘a splendid sample of our na-tive raw material,‘A little bodily preparation wouldn’t be amiss, either, would sir,’ and was much esteemed for his devotion to rational Liberty;for the better propagation whereof he usually carried ait, sir,’ said Mark, ‘in the case of a blessed old swamp likethis?’brace of revolving pistols in his coat pocket, with seven barrelsa-piece. He also carried, amongst other trinkets, a sword-‘Do you con-sider this a swamp, sir?’ inquired Chollopgravely.stick, which he called his ‘Tickler.’ and a great knife, which‘Why yes, sir,’ returned Mark. ‘I haven’t a doubt about it (for he was a man of a pleasant turn of humour) he calledmyself.’‘Ripper,’ in allusion to its usefulness as a means of ventilating‘The sentiment is quite Europian,’ said the major, ‘and does the stomach of any adversary in a close contest. He had usednot surprise me; what would your English millions say to these weapons with distinguished effect in several instances,such a swamp in England, sir?’all duly chronicled in the newspapers; and was greatly be-519

Martin Chuzzlewitloved for the gallant manner in which he had ‘jobbed out’ the the consistent advocate of Lynch law, and slavery; and invariablyrecommended, both in print and speech, the ‘tarring andeye of one gentleman, as he was in the act of knocking at hisown street-door.feathering’ of any unpopular person who differed from himself.He called this ‘planting the standard of civilization in theMr Chollop was a man of a roving disposition; and, in anyless advanced community, might have been mistaken for a wilder gardens of My country.’violent vagabond. But his fine qualities being perfectly understoodand appreciated in those regions where his lot was standard in Eden at Mark’s expense, in return for his plainness ofThere is little doubt that Chollop would have planted thiscast, and where he had many kindred spirits to consort with, speech (for the genuine Freedom is dumb, save when she vauntshe may be regarded as having been born under a fortunate herself), but for the utter desolation and decay prevailing in thestar, which is not always the case with a man so much before settlement, and his own approaching departure from it. As itthe age in which he lives. Preferring, with a view to the gratificationof his tickling and ripping fancies, to dwell upon the ing-pistols, and asking him what he thought of that weapon.was, he contented himself with showing Mark one of the revolv-outskirts of society, and in the more remote towns and cities, ‘It ain’t long since I shot a man down with that, sir, in thehe was in the habit of emigrating from place to place, and State of Illinoy,’ observed Chollop.establishing in each some business—usually a newspaper— ‘Did you, indeed!’ said Mark, without the smallest agitation.‘Very free of you. And very independent!’which he presently sold; for the most part closing the bargainby challenging, stabbing, pistolling, or gouging the new editor,before he had quite taken possession of the property. the Spartan Portico, a tri-weekly journal, that the ancient Athe-‘I shot him down, sir,’ pursued Chollop, ‘for asserting inHe had come to Eden on a speculation of this kind, but nians went a-head of the present Locofoco Ticket.’had abandoned it, and was about to leave. He always introducedhimself to strangers as a worshipper of Freedom; was ‘Europian not to know,’ said Chollop, smoking placidly.‘And what’s that?’ asked Mark.‘Europian520

Charles Dickensquite!’between the Old World and the New, I do expect?’After a short devotion to the interests of the magic circle, ‘Well!’ returned the miserable shadow. ‘So he had.’he resumed the conversation by observing:‘I was merely observing, sir,’ said Mark, addressing this new‘You won’t half feel yourself at home in Eden, now?’ visitor, ‘that I looked upon the city in which we have the‘No,’ said Mark, ‘I don’t.’honour to live, as being swampy. What’s your sentiments?’‘You miss the imposts of your country. You miss the house ‘I opinionate it’s moist perhaps, at certain times,’ returneddues?’ observed Chollop.the man.‘And the houses—rather,’ said Mark.‘But not as moist as England, sir?’ cried Chollop, with a‘No window dues here, sir,’ observed Chollop.fierce expression in his face.‘And no windows to put ‘em on,’ said Mark.‘Oh! Not as moist as England; let alone its Institutions,’‘No stakes, no dungeons, no blocks, no racks, no scaffolds, said the man.no thumbscrews, no pikes, no pillories,’ said Chollop. ‘I should hope there ain’t a swamp in all Americay, as don’t‘Nothing but rewolwers and bowie-knives,’ returned Mark. whip that small island into mush and molasses,’ observed‘And what are they? Not worth mentioning!’Chollop, decisively. ‘You bought slick, straight, and right away,The man who had met them on the night of their arrival of Scadder, sir?’ to Mark.came crawling up at this juncture, and looked in at the door. He answered in the affirmative. Mr Chollop winked at the‘Well, sir,’ said Chollop. ‘How do you git along?’ other citizen.He had considerable difficulty in getting along at all, and ‘Scadder is a smart man, sir? He is a rising man? He is a mansaid as much in reply.as will come up’ards, right side up, sir?’ Mr Chollop winked‘Mr Co. And me, sir,’ observed Chollop, ‘are disputating a again at the other citizen.piece. He ought to be slicked up pretty smart to disputate ‘He should have his right side very high up, if I had my way,’521

Martin Chuzzlewitsaid Mark. ‘As high up as the top of a good tall gallows, perhaps.’ Mark entreated him to take particular care of himself.Mr Chollop was so delighted at the smartness of his excellentcountryman having been too much for the Britisher, and to you. You are darnation ‘cute, you are.’‘Afore I go,’ he said sternly, ‘I have got a leetle word to sayat the Britisher’s resenting it, that he could contain himself Mark thanked him for the compliment.no longer, and broke forth in a shout of delight. But the ‘But you are much too ‘cute to last. I can’t con-ceive of anystrangest exposition of this ruling passion was in the other— spotted Painter in the bush, as ever was so riddled throughthe pestilence-stricken, broken, miserable shadow of a man— and through as you will be, I bet.’who derived so much entertainment from the circumstance ‘What for?’ asked Mark.that he seemed to forget his own ruin in thinking of it, and ‘We must be cracked up, sir,’ retorted Chollop, in a tone oflaughed outright when he said ‘that Scadder was a smart man, menace. ‘You are not now in A despotic land. We are a modeland had draw’d a lot of British capital that way, as sure as sunup.’‘What! I speak too free, do I?’ cried Mark.to the airth, and must be jist cracked-up, I tell you.’After a full enjoyment of this joke, Mr Hannibal Chollop ‘I have draw’d upon A man, and fired upon A man for less,’sat smoking and improving the circle, without making any said Chollop, frowning. ‘I have know’d strong men obleegedattempts either to converse or to take leave; apparently to make themselves uncommon skase for less. I have know’dlabouring under the not uncommon delusion that for a free men Lynched for less, and beaten into punkin’-sarse for less,and enlightened citizen of the United States to convert anotherman’s house into a spittoon for two or three hours to-the airth, the cream of human natur’, and the flower Of moralby an enlightened people. We are the intellect and virtue ofgether, was a delicate attention, full of interest and politeness, force. Our backs is easy ris. We must be cracked-up, or theyof which nobody could ever tire. At last he rose.rises, and we snarls. We shows our teeth, I tell you, fierce.‘I am a-going easy,’ he observed.You’d better crack us up, you had!’522

Charles DickensAfter the delivery of this caution, Mr Chollop departed; with about with the help of a stick and Mark’s arm; and even then hisRipper, Tickler, and the revolvers, all ready for action on the shortestnotice.was very slow. He was yet in a feeble and weak condition, whenrecovery, for want of wholesome air and proper nourishment,‘Come out from under the blanket, sir,’ said Mark, ‘he’s the misfourtune he had so much dreaded fell upon them. Markgone. What’s this!’ he added softly; kneeling down to look was taken ill.into his partner’s face, and taking his hot hand. ‘What’s come Mark fought against it; but the malady fought harder, andof all that chattering and swaggering? He’s wandering in his his efforts were in vain.mind to-night, and don’t know me!’‘Floored for the present, sir,’ he said one morning, sinkingMartin indeed was dangerously ill; very near his death. He back upon his bed; ‘but jolly!’lay in that state many days, during which time Mark’s poor Floored indeed, and by a heavy blow! As any one but Martinmight have known beforehand.friends, regardless of themselves, attended him. Mark, fatiguedin mind and body; working all the day and sitting up at night; If Mark’s friends had been kind to Martin (and they hadworn with hard living and the unaccustomed toil of his new been very), they were twenty times kinder to Mark. And nowlife; surrounded by dismal and discouraging circumstances of it was Martin’s turn to work, and sit beside the bed and watch,every kind; never complained or yielded in the least degree. If and listen through the long, long nights, to every sound inever he had thought Martin selfish or inconsiderate, or had the gloomy wilderness; and hear poor Mr Tapley, in his wanderingfancy, playing at skittles in the Dragon, making love-deemed him energetic only by fits and starts, and then toopassive for their desperate fortunes, he now forgot it all. He remonstrances to Mrs Lupin, getting his sea-legs on boardremembered nothing but the better qualities of his fellowwanderer,and was devoted to him, heart and hand. and burning stumps of trees in Eden, all at once.the Screw, travelling with old Tom Pinch on English roads,Many weeks elapsed before Martin was strong enough to move But whenever Martin gave him drink or medicine, or tended523

Martin Chuzzlewithim in any way, or came into the house returning from some At first sight there was nothing very distressing in these meditations,but they did undoubtedly distress him for all that.drudgery without, the patient Mr Tapley brightened up andcried: ‘I’m jolly, sir; ‘I’m jolly!’Martin’s nature was a frank and generous one; but he had beenNow, when Martin began to think of this, and to look at bred up in his grandfather’s house; and it will usually be foundMark as he lay there; never reproaching him by so much as an that the meaner domestic vices propagate themselves to be theirexpression of regret; never murmuring; always striving to be own antagonists. Selfishness does this especially; so do suspicion,manful and staunch; he began to think, how was it that this cunning, stealth, and covetous propensities. Martin had unconsciouslyreasoned as a child, ‘My guardian takes so much thoughtman who had had so few advantages, was so much better thanhe who had had so many? And attendance upon a sick bed, but of himself, that unless I do the like by MYself, I shall be forgotten.’So he had grown selfish.especially the sick bed of one whom we have been accustomedto see in full activity and vigour, being a great breeder of reflection,he began to ask himself in what they differed.the vice, he would have indignantly repelled the accusation,But he had never known it. If any one had taxed him withHe was assisted in coming to a conclusion on this head by and conceived himself unworthily aspersed. He never wouldthe frequent presence of Mark’s friend, their fellow-passenger have known it, but that being newly risen from a bed of dangeroussickness, to watch by such another couch, he felt howacross the ocean, which suggested to him that in regard tohaving aided her, for example, they had differed very much. nearly Self had dropped into the grave, and what a poor dependent,miserable thing it was.Somehow he coupled Tom Pinch with this train of reflection;and thinking that Tom would be very likely to have It was natural for him to reflect—he had months to do itstruck up the same sort of acquaintance under similar circumstances,began to think in what respects two people so to consider which of them could be the better spared, andin—upon his own escape, and Mark’s extremity. This led himextremely different were like each other, and were unlike him. why? Then the curtain slowly rose a very little way; and Self,524

Charles DickensSelf, Self, was shown below.would look upon it as an established fact, that selfishness wasHe asked himself, besides, when dreading Mark’s decease in his breast, and must be rooted out. He was so doubtful (and(as all men do and must, at such a time), whether he had with justice) of his own character, that he determined not todone his duty by him, and had deserved and made a good say one word of vain regret or good resolve to Mark, but steadilyresponse to his fidelity and zeal. No. Short as their companionshiphad been, he felt in many, many instances, that there not a jot of pride in this; nothing but humility and steadfast-to keep his purpose before his own eyes solely; and there waswas blame against himself; and still inquiring why, the curtainslowly rose a little more, and Self, Self, Self, dilated on him down. So high had Eden raised him up.ness; the best armour he could wear. So low had Eden broughtthe scene.After a long and lingering illness (in certain forlorn stages ofIt was long before he fixed the knowledge of himself so which, when too far gone to speak, he had feebly writtenfirmly in his mind that he could thoroughly discern the truth; ‘jolly!’ on a slate), Mark showed some symptoms of returninghealth. They came and went, and flickered for a time; butbut in the hideous solitude of that most hideous place, withHope so far removed, Ambition quenched, and Death beside he began to mend at last decidedly; and after that continuedhim rattling at the very door, reflection came, as in a plaguebeleagueredtown; and so he felt and knew the failing of his As soon as he was well enough to talk without fatigue,to improve from day to day.life, and saw distinctly what an ugly spot it was.Martin consulted him upon a project he had in his mind, andEden was a hard school to learn so hard a lesson in; but which a few months back he would have carried into executionwithout troubling anybody’s head but his own.there were teachers in the swamp and thicket, and the pestilentialair, who had a searching method of their own. ‘Ours is a desperate case,’ said Martin. ‘Plainly. The place isHe made a solemn resolution that when his strength returned deserted; its failure must have become known; and sellinghe would not dispute the point or resist the conviction, but what we have bought to any one, for anything, is hopeless,525

Martin Chuzzlewiteven if it were honest. We left home on a mad enterprise, and shaking his head with a rueful air, ‘and pigs.’have failed. The only hope left us, the only one end for which ‘Shall I tell him so, and only ask him for money enough towe have now to try, is to quit this settlement for ever, and get enable us by the cheapest means to reach New York, or anyback to England. Anyhow! by any means! only to get back port from which we may hope to get a passage home, bythere, Mark.’serving in any capacity? Explaining to him at the same time‘That’s all, sir,’ returned Mr Tapley, with a significant stress how I am connected, and that I will endeavour to repay him,upon the words; ‘only that!’even through my grandfather, immediately on our arrival in‘Now, upon this side of the water,’ said Martin, ‘we have England?’but one friend who can help us, and that is Mr Bevan.’ ‘Why to be sure,’ said Mark: ‘he can only say no, and he‘I thought of him when you was ill,’ said Mark.may say yes. If you don’t mind trying him, sir—’‘But for the time that would be lost, I would even write to ‘Mind!’ exclaimed Martin. ‘I am to blame for coming here,my grandfather,’ Martin went on to say, ‘and implore him and I would do anything to get away. I grieve to think of thefor money to free us from this trap into which we were so past. If I had taken your opinion sooner, Mark, we nevercruelly decoyed. Shall I try Mr Bevan first?’should have been here, I am certain.’‘He’s a very pleasant sort of a gentleman,’ said Mark. ‘I Mr Tapley was very much surprised at this admission, butthink so.’protested, with great vehemence, that they would have been‘The few goods we brought here, and in which we spent there all the same; and that he had set his heart upon comingour money, would produce something if sold,’ resumed Martin;‘and whatever they realise shall be paid him instantly. But Martin then read him a letter to Mr Bevan, which he hadto Eden, from the first word he had ever heard of it.they can’t be sold here.’already prepared. It was frankly and ingenuously written, and‘There’s nobody but corpses to buy ‘em,’ said Mr Tapley, described their situation without the least concealment; plainly526

Charles Dickensstated the miseries they had undergone; and preferred their They were not likely to receive an answer for eight or tenrequest in modest but straightforward terms. Mark highly weeks at the earliest. In the meantime they devoted suchcommended it; and they determined to dispatch it by the strength as they had to the attempted improvement of theirnext steamboat going the right way, that might call to take in land; to clearing some of it, and preparing it for useful purposes.Monstrously defective as their farming was, still it waswood at Eden—where there was plenty of wood to spare.Not knowing how to address Mr Bevan at his own place of better than their neighbours’; for Mark had some practicalabode, Martin superscribed it to the care of the memorable knowledge of such matters, and Martin learned of him;Mr Norris of New York, and wrote upon the cover an entreatythat it might be forwarded without delay.swamp (a mere handful, and those withered by disease), ap-whereas the other settlers who remained upon the putridMore than a week elapsed before a boat appeared; but at peared to have wandered there with the idea that husbandrylength they were awakened very early one morning by the was the natural gift of all mankind. They helped each otherhigh-pressure snorting of the ‘Esau Slodge;’ named after one after their own manner in these struggles, and in all others;of the most remarkable men in the country, who had been but they worked as hopelessly and sadly as a gang of convictsvery eminent somewhere. Hurrying down to the landingplace,they got it safe on board; and waiting anxiously to see Often at night when Mark and Martin were alone, and lyingin a penal settlement.the boat depart, stopped up the gangway; an instance of neglectwhich caused the ‘Capting’ of the Esau Slodge to ‘wish and people whom they knew; sometimes in the lively hope ofdown to sleep, they spoke of home, familiar places, houses, roads,he might be sifted fine as flour, and whittled small as chips; seeing them again, and sometimes with a sorrowful tranquillity,that if they didn’t come off that there fixing right smart too, as if that hope were dead. It was a source of great amazement tohe’d spill ‘em in the drink;’ whereby the Capting metaphoricallysaid he’d throw them in the river.alteration inMark Tapley to find, pervading all these conversations, a singularMartin.527

Martin Chuzzlewit‘I don’t know what to make of him,’ he thought one night, ‘I tell you what. I’m not so sure of that, Mark,’ was the‘he ain’t what I supposed. He don’t think of himself half as reply; so hastily and energetically spoken, that Martin sat upmuch. I’ll try him again. Asleep, sir?’in his bed to give it. ‘I begin to be far from clear upon it. You‘No, Mark.’may depend upon it she is very unhappy. She has sacrificed‘Thinking of home, sir?’her peace of mind; she has endangered her interests very much;‘Yes, Mark.’she can’t run away from those who are jealous of her, and‘So was I, sir. I was wondering how Mr Pinch and Mr opposed to her, as I have done. She has to endure, Mark; toPecksniff gets on now.’endure without the possibility of action, poor girl! I begin to‘Poor Tom!’ said Martin, thoughtfully.think that she has more to bear than ever I had. Upon my‘Weak-minded man, sir,’ observed Mr Tapley. ‘Plays the soul I do!’organ for nothing, sir. Takes no care of himself?’Mr Tapley opened his eyes wide in the dark; but did not‘I wish he took a little more, indeed,’ said Martin. ‘Though interrupt.I don’t know why I should. We shouldn’t like him half as well, ‘And I’ll tell you a secret, Mark,’ said Martin, ‘since we areperhaps.’upon this subject. That ring—’‘He gets put upon, sir,’ hinted Mark.‘Which ring, sir?’ Mark inquired, opening his eyes still wider.‘Yes!’ said Martin, after a short silence. ‘I know that, Mark.’ ‘That ring she gave me when we parted, Mark. She boughtHe spoke so regretfully that his partner abandoned the it; bought it; knowing I was poor and proud (Heaven helptheme, and was silent for a short time until he had thought of me! Proud!) and wanted money.’another.‘Who says so, sir?’ asked Mark.‘Ah, sir!’ said Mark, with a sigh. ‘Dear me! You’ve ventured ‘I say so. I know it. I thought of it, my good fellow, hundredsof times, while you were lying ill. And like a beast, a good deal for a young lady’s love!’I528

Charles Dickenstook it from her hand, and wore it on my own, and never at Eden. Mark was waiting at the wood hut when it came,dreamed of this even at the moment when I parted with it, and had a letter handed to him from on board. He bore it offwhen some faint glimmering of the truth might surely have to Martin. They looked at one another, trembling.possessed me! But it’s late,’ said Martin, checking himself, ‘It feels heavy,’ faltered Martin. And opening it a little roll‘and you are weak and tired, I know. You only talk to cheer of dollar-notes fell out upon the ground.me up. Good night! God bless you, Mark!’What either of them said, or did, or felt, at first, neither of‘God bless you, sir! But I’m reg’larly defrauded,’ thought them knew. All Mark could ever tell was, that he was at theMr Tapley, turning round with a happy face. ‘It’s a swindle. I river’s bank again out of breath, before the boat had gone,never entered for this sort of service. There’ll be no credit in inquiring when it would retrace its track and put in there.being jolly with him!’The answer was, in ten or twelve days; notwithstandingThe time wore on, and other steamboats coming from the which they began to get their goods together and to tie thempoint on which their hopes were fixed, arrived to take in wood; up that very night. When this stage of excitement was passed,but still no answer to the letter. Rain, heat, foul slime, and each of them believed (they found this out, in talking of itnoxious vapour, with all the ills and filthy things they bred, afterwards) that he would surely die before the boat returned.prevailed. The earth, the air, the vegetation, and the water They lived, however, and it came, after the lapse of threethat they drank, all teemed with deadly properties. Their fellow-passengerhad lost two children long before; and buried upon her deck.long crawling weeks. At sunrise, on an autumn day, they stoodnow her last. Such things are much too common to be widely ‘Courage! We shall meet again!’ cried Martin, waving hisknown or cared for. Smart citizens grow rich, and friendless hand to two thin figures on the bank. ‘In the Old World!’victims smart and die, and are forgotten. That is all.‘Or in the next one,’ added Mark below his breath. ‘To seeAt last a boat came panting up the ugly river, and stopped them standing side by side, so quiet, is a’most the worst of529

Martin Chuzzlewitall!’a high barrel of flour, as if he were looking at the prospectThey looked at one another as the vessel moved away, and with his ankles, who attracted their attention speedily.then looked backward at the spot from which it hurried fast. He had straight black hair, parted up the middle of his headThe log-house, with the open door, and drooping trees about and hanging down upon his coat; a little fringe of hair uponit; the stagnant morning mist, and red sun, dimly seen beyond;the vapour rising up from land and river; the quick in the sleeves and short in the legs; soiled brown stockingshis chin; wore no neckcloth; a white hat; a suit of black, longstream making the loathsome banks it washed more flat and and laced shoes. His complexion, naturally muddy, was renderedmuddier by too strict an economy of soap and water;dull; how often they returned in dreams! How often it washappiness to wake and find them Shadows that had vanished! and the same observation will apply to the washable part ofhis attire, which he might have changed with comfort to himselfand gratification to his friends. He was about five andCHAPTER THIRTYthirty;was crushed and jammed up in a heap, under the shadeFOURof a large green cotton umbrella; and ruminated over his tobacco-pluglike a cow.IN WHICH THE TRAVELLERS MOVE He was not singular, to be sure, in these respects; for everyHOMEWARD,gentleman on board appeared to have had a difference withAND ENCOUNTER SOME DISTIN- his laundress and to have left off washing himself in earlyGUISHED CHARACTERS UPON THE WAY youth. Every gentleman, too, was perfectly stopped up withtight plugging, and was dislocated in the greater part of hisAMONG THE PASSENGERS on board the steamboat, there was a joints. But about this gentleman there was a peculiar air offaint gentleman sitting on a low camp-stool, with his legs on sagacity and wisdom, which convinced Martin that he was530

Charles Dickensno common character; and this turned out to be the case. to his eyebrow, as if he were revolving schemes of state.‘How do you do sir?’ said a voice in Martin’s ear‘That is Elijah Pogram, is it?’ said Martin.‘How do you do sir?’ said Martin.‘Yes, sir,’ replied the other. ‘That is Elijah Pogram.’It was a tall thin gentleman who spoke to him, with a carpet-capon, and a long loose coat of green baize, ornamented the least idea who this Elijah Pogram was; having never heard‘Dear me!’ said Martin. ‘I am astonished.’ But he had notabout the pockets with black velvet.the name in all his life.‘You air from Europe, sir?’‘If the biler of this vessel was Toe bust, sir,’ said his new‘I am,’ said Martin.acquaintance, ‘and Toe bust now, this would be a festival day‘You air fortunate, sir.’in the calendar of despotism; pretty nigh equallin’, sir, in itsMartin thought so too; but he soon discovered that the effects upon the human race, our Fourth of glorious July. Yes,gentleman and he attached different meanings to this remark. sir, that is the Honourable Elijah Pogram, Member of Congress;one of the master-minds of our country, sir. There is a‘You air fortunate, sir, in having an opportunity of beholdingour Elijah Pogram, sir.’brow, sir, there!’‘Your Elijahpogram!’ said Martin, thinking it was all one ‘Quite remarkable,’ said Martin.word, and a building of some sort.‘Yes, sir. Our own immortal Chiggle, sir, is said to have‘Yes sir.’observed, when he made the celebrated Pogram statter inMartin tried to look as if he understood him, but he couldn’t marble, which rose so much con-test and preju-dice in Europe,that the brow was more than mortal. This was beforemake it out.‘Yes, sir,’ repeated the gentleman. ‘our Elijah Pogram, sir, is, the Pogram Defiance, and was, therefore, a pre-diction, cruelat this minute, identically settin’ by the en-gine biler.’ smart.’The gentleman under the umbrella put his right forefinger ‘What is the Pogram Defiance?’ asked Martin, thinking,531

Martin Chuzzlewitperhaps, it was the sign of a public-house.had stayed at home, and sent his shoes upon a tour, they would‘An o-ration, sir,’ returned his friend.have answered the same purpose; for they were the only part‘Oh! to be sure,’ cried Martin. ‘What am I thinking of! It of him in a situation to see anything.defied—’In course of time, however, Mr Pogram rose; and having‘It defied the world, sir,’ said the other, gravely. ‘Defied the ejected certain plugging consequences which would have impededhis articulation, took up a position where there wasworld in general to com-pete with our country upon any hook;and devellop’d our internal resources for making war upon something to lean against, and began to talk to Martin; shadinghimself with the green umbrella all the time.the universal airth. You would like to know Elijah Pogram,sir?’As he began with the words, ‘How do you like—?’ Martin‘If you please,’ said Martin.took him up and said:‘Mr Pogram,’ said the stranger—Mr Pogram having overheardevery word of the dialogue—’this is a gentleman from ‘Yes, sir,’ said Elijah Pogram. A knot of passengers gathered‘The country, I presume?’Europe, sir; from England, sir. But gen’rous ene-mies may round to hear what followed; and Martin heard his friendmeet upon the neutral sile of private life, I think.’say, as he whispered to another friend, and rubbed his hands,The languid Mr Pogram shook hands with Martin, like a ‘Pogram will smash him into sky-blue fits, I know!’clock-work figure that was just running down. But he made ‘Why,’ said Martin, after a moment’s hesitation, ‘I haveamends by chewing like one that was just wound up. learned by experience, that you take an unfair advantage of a‘Mr Pogram,’ said the introducer, ‘is a public servant, sir. stranger, when you ask that question. You don’t mean it to beWhen Congress is recessed, he makes himself acquainted with answered, except in one way. Now, I don’t choose to answerthose free United States, of which he is the gifted son.’ it in that way, for I cannot honestly answer it in that way.It occurred to Martin that if the Honourable Elijah Pogram And therefore, I would rather not answer it at all.’532

Charles DickensBut Mr Pogram was going to make a great speech in the ‘I con-sider the cause of this to be,’ said Pogram, lookingnext session about foreign relations, and was going to write round again and taking himself up where Martin had interruptedhim, ‘partly jealousy and pre-judice, and partly thestrong articles on the subject; and as he greatly favoured thefree and independent custom (a very harmless and agreeable nat’ral unfitness of the British people to appreciate the exaltedInstitutions of our native land. I expect, sir,’ turning toone) of procuring information of any sort in any kind ofconfidence, and afterwards perverting it publicly in any mannerthat happened to suit him, he had determined to get at upon you during your lo-cation in the town of Eden?’Martin again, ‘that a gentleman named Chollop happened inMartin’s opinions somehow or other. For if he could have ‘Yes,’ answered Martin; ‘but my friend can answer this betterthan I can, for I was very ill at the time. Mark! The gentle-got nothing out of him, he would have had to invent it forhim, and that would have been laborious. He made a mental man is speaking of Mr Chollop.’note of his answer, and went in again.‘Oh. Yes, sir. Yes. I see him,’ observed Mark.‘You are from Eden, sir? How did you like Eden?’‘A splendid example of our na-tive raw material, sir?’ saidMartin said what he thought of that part of the country, in Pogram, interrogatively.pretty strong terms.‘Indeed, sir!’ cried Mark.‘It is strange,’ said Pogram, looking round upon the group, The Honourable Elijah Pogram glanced at his friends as‘this hatred of our country, and her Institutions! This national though he would have said, ‘Observe this! See what follows!’antipathy is deeply rooted in the British mind!’and they rendered tribute to the Pogram genius by a gentle‘Good Heaven, sir,’ cried Martin. ‘Is the Eden Land Corporation,with Mr Scadder at its head, and all the misery it ‘Our fellow-countryman is a model of a man, quite freshmurmur.has worked, at its door, an Institution of America? A part of from Natur’s mould!’ said Pogram, with enthusiasm. ‘He is aany form of government that ever was known or heard of?’ true-born child of this free hemisphere! Verdant as the moun-533

Martin Chuzzlewittains of our country; bright and flowing as our mineral Licks; truth, sir. I thought he was a bully; and I didn’t admire hisunspiled by withering conventionalities as air our broad and carryin’ them murderous little persuaders, and being so readyboundless Perearers! Rough he may be. So air our Barrs. Wild to use ‘em.’he may be. So air our Buffalers. But he is a child of Natur’, ‘It’s singler!’ said Pogram, lifting his umbrella high enoughand a child of Freedom; and his boastful answer to the Despotand the Tyrant is, that his bright home is in the Settin settled opposition to our Institutions which pervades the Brit-to look all round from under it. ‘It’s strange! You observe theSun.’ish mind!’Part of this referred to Chollop, and part to a Western postmaster,who, being a public defaulter not very long before (a Mr Chollop and the class he represents, an Institution here?‘What an extraordinary people you are!’ cried Martin. ‘Arecharacter not at all uncommon in America), had been removed Are pistols with revolving barrels, sword-sticks, bowie-knives,from office; and on whose behalf Mr Pogram (he voted for and such things, Institutions on which you pride yourselves?Pogram) had thundered the last sentence from his seat in Are bloody duels, brutal combats, savage assaults, shootingCongress, at the head of an unpopular President. It told brilliantly;for the bystanders were delighted, and one of them shall hear next that Dishonour and Fraud are among the In-down and stabbing in the streets, your Institutions! Why, Isaid to Martin, ‘that he guessed he had now seen something stitutions of the great republic!’of the eloquential aspect of our country, and was chawed up The moment the words passed his lips, the Honourablepritty small.’Elijah Pogram looked round again.Mr Pogram waited until his hearers were calm again, before ‘This morbid hatred of our Institutions,’ he observed, ‘ishe said to Mark:quite a study for the psychological observer. He’s alludin’ to‘You do not seem to coincide, sir?’Repudiation now!’‘Why,’ said Mark, ‘I didn’t like him much; and that’s the ‘Oh! you may make anything an Institution if you like,’534

Charles Dickenssaid Martin, laughing, ‘and I confess you had me there, for great blocks of everything he could get hold of, like a raven.you certainly have made that one. But the greater part of these When he had taken this unusually protracted dinner, he beganto talk to Martin; and begged him not to have the leastthings are one Institution with us, and we call it by the genericname of Old Bailey!’delicacy in speaking with perfect freedom to him, for he wasThe bell being rung for dinner at this moment, everybody a calm philosopher. Which Martin was extremely glad to hear;ran away into the cabin, whither the Honourable Elijah for he had begun to speculate on Elijah being a disciple ofPogram fled with such precipitation that he forgot his umbrellawas up, and fixed it so tightly in the cabin door that it timents are carved with knives upon a pupil’s body, and writ-that other school of republican philosophy, whose noble sen-could neither be let down nor got out. For a minute or so this ten, not with pen and ink, but tar and feathers.accident created a perfect rebellion among the hungry passengersbehind, who, seeing the dishes, and hearing the knives sir?’ inquired Elijah Pogram.‘What do you think of my countrymen who are present,and forks at work, well knew what would happen unless they ‘Oh! very pleasant,’ said Martin.got there instantly, and were nearly mad; while several virtuouscitizens at the table were in deadly peril of choking them-word; every one had been intent, as usual, on his own privateThey were a very pleasant party. No man had spoken aselves in their unnatural efforts to get rid of all the meat beforethese others came.dirty feeders.gorging; and the greater part of the company were decidedlyThey carried the umbrella by storm, however, and rushed The Honourable Elijah Pogram looked at Martin as if hein at the breach. The Honourable Elijah Pogram and Martin thought ‘You don’t mean that, I know!’ and he was soon confirmedin this opinion.found themselves, after a severe struggle, side by side, as theymight have come together in the pit of a London theatre; and Sitting opposite to them was a gentleman in a high state offor four whole minutes afterwards, Pogram was snapping up tobacco, who wore quite a little beard, composed of the over-535

Martin Chuzzlewitflowing of that weed, as they had dried about his mouth and fine and independent thing to be a brute in small matters?’chin; so common an ornament that it would scarcely have ‘He is a na-tive of our country, and is nat’rally bright andattracted Martin’s observation, but that this good citizen, spry, of course,’ said Mr Pogram.burning to assert his equality against all comers, sucked his ‘Now, observe what this comes to, Mr Pogram,’ pursuedknife for some moments, and made a cut with it at the butter,just as Martin was in the act of taking some. There was a neglecting little social observances, which have nothing to doMartin. ‘The mass of your countrymen begin by stubbornlyjuiciness about the deed that might have sickened a scavenger. with gentility, custom, usage, government, or country, butWhen Elijah Pogram (to whom this was an every-day incident)saw that Martin put the plate away, and took no butter, abet them in this, by resenting all attacks upon their socialare acts of common, decent, natural, human politeness. Youhe was quite delighted, and said,offences as if they were a beautiful national feature. From‘Well! The morbid hatred of you British to the Institutions disregarding small obligations they come in regular course toof our country is as-tonishing!’disregard great ones; and so refuse to pay their debts. What‘Upon my life!’ cried Martin, in his turn. ‘This is the most they may do, or what they may refuse to do next, I don’twonderful community that ever existed. A man deliberately know; but any man may see if he will, that it will be somethingfollowing in natural succession, and a part of one greatmakes a hog of himself, and that’s an Institution!’‘We have no time to ac-quire forms, sir,’ said Elijah Pogram. growth, which is rotten at the root.’‘Acquire!’ cried Martin. ‘But it’s not a question of acquiring anything.It’s a question of losing the natural politeness of a savage, so they went on deck again, where, resuming his former post,The mind of Mr Pogram was too philosophical to see this;and that instinctive good breeding which admonishes one man he chewed until he was in a lethargic state, amounting tonot to offend and disgust another. Don’t you think that man over insensibility.the way, for instance, naturally knows better, but considers it a very After a weary voyage of several days, they came again to536

Charles Dickensthat same wharf where Mark had been so nearly left behind, all kinds of vengeance, if I didn’t receive them?’on the night of starting for Eden. Captain Kedgick, the landlord,was standing there, and was greatly surprised to see them our people’s frills is out, they’re starched up pretty stiff, I tell‘I don’t know about that,’ returned the Captain. ‘But whencoming from the boat.you!’‘Why, what the ‘tarnal!’ cried the Captain. ‘Well! I do admireat this, I do!’Martin and Elijah Pogram went on to the National.With that, he fell into the rear to walk with Mark, while‘We can stay at your house until to-morrow, Captain, I ‘We’ve come back alive, you see!’ said Mark.suppose?’ said Martin.‘It ain’t the thing I did expect,’ the Captain grumbled. ‘A‘I reckon you can stay there for a twelvemonth if you like,’ man ain’t got no right to be a public man, unless he meets theretorted Kedgick coolly. ‘But our people won’t best like your public views. Our fashionable people wouldn’t have attendedcoming back.’his le-vee, if they had know’d it.’‘Won’t like it, Captain Kedgick!’ said Martin.Nothing mollified the Captain, who persisted in taking it very‘They did ex-pect you was a-going to settle,’ Kedgick answered,as he shook his head. ‘They’ve been took in, you can’t National felt strongly on the subject too; but it happened byill that they had not both died in Eden. The boarders at thedeny!’good fortune that they had not much time to think about this‘What do you mean?’ cried Martin.grievance, for it was suddenly determined to pounce upon the‘You didn’t ought to have received ‘em,’ said the Captain. Honourable Elijah Pogram, and give him a le-vee forthwith.‘No you didn’t!’As the general evening meal of the house was over before‘My good friend,’ returned Martin, ‘did I want to receive the arrival of the boat, Martin, Mark, and Pogram were takingtea and fixings at the public table by themselves, when thethem? Was it any act of mine? Didn’t you tell me they wouldrile up, and that I should be flayed like a wild cat—and threaten deputation entered to announce this honour; consisting of537

Martin Chuzzlewitsix gentlemen boarders and a very shrill boy.with the execution of our little office, sir?’‘Sir!’ said the spokesman.As there was nothing the shrill boy desired more, he immediatelystepped forward.‘Mr Pogram!’ cried the shrill boy.The spokesman thus reminded of the shrill boy’s presence, ‘Mr Pogram! Sir! A handful of your fellow-citizens, sir, hearingof your arrival at the National Hotel, and feeling the pa-introduced him. ‘Doctor Ginery Dunkle, sir. A gentleman ofgreat poetical elements. He has recently jined us here, sir, and triotic character of your public services, wish, sir, to have theis an acquisition to us, sir, I do assure you. Yes, sir. Mr Jodd, gratification of beholding you, and mixing with you, sir; andsir. Mr Izzard, sir. Mr Julius Bib, sir.’unbending with you, sir, in those moments which—’‘Julius Washington Merryweather Bib,’ said the gentleman ‘Air,’ suggested Buffum.himself to himself.‘Which air so peculiarly the lot, sir, of our great and happy‘I beg your pardon, sir. Excuse me. Mr Julius Washington country.’Merryweather Bib, sir; a gentleman in the lumber line, sir, ‘Hear!’ cried Colonel Grouper, in a loud voice. ‘Good! Hearand much esteemed. Colonel Groper, sir. Pro-fessor Piper, him! Good!’sir. My own name, sir, is Oscar Buffum.’‘And therefore, sir,’ pursued the Doctor, ‘they request; as AEach man took one slide forward as he was named; butted at the mark Of their respect; the honour of your company at a littleHonourable Elijah Pogram with his head; shook hands, and slid back le-Vee, sir, in the ladies’ ordinary, at eight o’clock.’again. The introductions being completed, the spokesman resumed. Mr Pogram bowed, and said:‘Sir!’‘Fellow countrymen!’‘Mr Pogram!’ cried the shrill boy.‘Good!’ cried the Colonel. ‘Hear, him! Good!’‘Perhaps,’ said the spokesman, with a hopeless look, ‘you Mr Pogram bowed to the Colonel individually, and thenwill be so good, Dr. Ginery Dunkle, as to charge yourself resumed.538

Charles Dickens‘Your approbation of My labours in the common cause goes there was much clapping of hands from ladies and gentlemen,accompanied by cries of ‘Pogram! Pogram!’ and someto My heart. At all times and in all places; in the ladies’ ordinary,My friends, and in the Battle Field—’standing up on chairs to see him.‘Good, very good! Hear him! Hear him!’ said the Colonel. The object of the popular caress looked round the room as‘The name of Pogram will be proud to jine you. And may he walked up it, and smiled; at the same time observing toit, My friends, be written on My tomb, “He was a member the shrill boy, that he knew something of the beauty of theof the Congress of our common country, and was ac-Tive in daughters of their common country, but had never seen it inhis trust.”’such lustre and perfection as at that moment. Which the shrill‘The Com-mittee, sir,’ said the shrill boy, ‘will wait upon boy put in the paper next day; to Elijah Pogram’s great surprise.you at five minutes afore eight. I take My leave, sir!’Mr Pogram shook hands with him, and everybody else, ‘We will re-quest you, sir, if you please,’ said Buffum, layinghands on Mr Pogram as if he were taking his measure foronce more; and when they came back again at five minutesbefore eight, they said, one by one, in a melancholy voice, a coat, ‘to stand up with your back agin the wall right in the‘How do you do, sir?’ and shook hands with Mr Pogram all furthest corner, that there may be more room for our fellowover again, as if he had been abroad for a twelvemonth in the cit-izens. If you could set your back right slap agin that curtain-peg,sir, keeping your left leg everlastingly behind themeantime, and they met, now, at a funeral.But by this time Mr Pogram had freshened himself up, and stove, we should be fixed quite slick.’had composed his hair and features after the Pogram statue, Mr Pogram did as he was told, and wedged himself intoso that any one with half an eye might cry out, ‘There he is! as such a little corner that the Pogram statue wouldn’t havehe delivered the Defiance!’ The Committee were embellished known him.also; and when they entered the ladies’ ordinary in a body, The entertainments of the evening then began. Gentlemen539

Martin Chuzzlewitbrought ladies up, and brought themselves up, and brought as he could, with his eyes starting out of his head:each other up; and asked Elijah Pogram what he thought of ‘Sir, Mrs Hominy!’this political question, and what he thought of that; and looked ‘Lord bless that woman, Mark. She has turned up again!’at him, and looked at one another, and seemed very unhappy ‘Here she comes, sir,’ answered Mr Tapley. ‘Pogram knowsindeed. The ladies on the chairs looked at Elijah Pogram her. A public character! Always got her eye upon her country,through their glasses, and said audibly, ‘I wish he’d speak. sir! If that there lady’s husband is of my opinion, what a jollyWhy don’t he speak? Oh, do ask him to speak!’ And Elijah old gentleman he must be!’Pogram looked sometimes at the ladies and sometimes elsewhere,delivering senatorial opinions, as he was asked for them. stalk, the pocket handkerchief, the clasped hands, and theA lane was made; and Mrs Hominy, with the aristocraticBut the great end and object of the meeting seemed to be, classical cap, came slowly up it, in a procession of one. Mrnot to let Elijah Pogram out of the corner on any account; so Pogram testified emotions of delight on seeing her, and a generalhush prevailed. For it was known that when a womanthere they kept him, hard and fast.A great bustle at the door, in the course of the evening, announcedthe arrival of some remarkable person; and immedithinginteresting must be said.like Mrs Hominy encountered a man like Pogram, someatelyafterwards an elderly gentleman, much excited, was seen Their first salutations were exchanged in a voice too low toto precipitate himself upon the crowd, and battle his way towardsthe Honourable Elijah Pogram. Martin, who had found audible, for Mrs Hominy felt her position, and knew whatreach the impatient ears of the throng; but they soon becamea snug place of observation in a distant corner, where he stood was expected of her.with Mark beside him (for he did not so often forget him now Mrs H. was hard upon him at first; and put him through aas formerly, though he still did sometimes), thought he knew rigid catechism in reference to a certain vote he had given, whichthis gentleman, but had no doubt of it, when he cried as loud she had found it necessary, as the mother of the modern Gracchi,540

Charles Dickensto deprecate in a line by itself, set up expressly for the purpose assembled to do honour to the patriotic conduct of a Pogram.in German text. But Mr Pogram evading it by a well-timed It may be another bond of union between the two L. L.’s andallusion to the star-spangled banner, which, it appeared, had the mother of the M. G. to observe, that the two L. L.’s arethe remarkable peculiarity of flouting the breeze whenever it Transcendental.’was hoisted where the wind blew, she forgave him. They now Mrs Hominy promptly rose, and proceeded to the door,enlarged on certain questions of tariff, commercial treaty, boundary,importation and exportation with great effect. And Mrs L. L.’s, whom she led, through the lane in the crowd, with allwhence she returned, after a minute’s interval, with the twoHominy not only talked, as the saying is, like a book, but that stateliness of deportment which was so remarkably heractually did talk her own books, word for word.own, up to the great Elijah Pogram. It was (as the shrill boy‘My! what is this!’ cried Mrs Hominy, opening a little note cried out in an ecstasy) quite the Last Scene from Coriolanus.which was handed her by her excited gentleman-usher. ‘Do One of the L. L.’s wore a brown wig of uncommon size.tell! oh, well, now! on’y think!’Sticking on the forehead of the other, by invisible means, wasAnd then she read aloud, as follows:a massive cameo, in size and shape like the raspberry tart which‘Two literary ladies present their compliments to the mother is ordinarily sold for a penny, representing on its front theof the modern Gracchi, and claim her kind introduction, as Capitol at Washington.their talented countrywoman, to the honourable (and distinguished)Elijah Pogram, whom the two L. L.’s have often ‘Codger’s the lady so often mentioned in the English news-‘Miss Toppit, and Miss Codger!’ said Mrs Hominy.contemplated in the speaking marble of the soul-subduing papers I should think, sir,’ whispered Mark. ‘The oldest inhabitantas never remembers anything.’Chiggle. On a verbal intimation from the mother of the M.G., that she will comply with the request of the two L. L.’s, ‘To be presented to a Pogram,’ said Miss Codger, ‘by athey will have the immediate pleasure of joining the galaxy Hominy, indeed, a thrilling moment is it in its impressive-541

Martin Chuzzlewitness on what we call our feelings. But why we call them so, or depths, and all unable to swim, they splashed up words in allwhy impressed they are, or if impressed they are at all, or if at directions, and floundered about famously. On the whole, itall we are, or if there really is, oh gasping one! a Pogram or a was considered to have been the severest mental exercise everHominy, or any active principle to which we give those titles, heard in the National Hotel. Tears stood in the shrill boy’sis a topic, Spirit searching, light abandoned, much too vast to eyes several times; and the whole company observed that theirenter on, at this unlooked-for crisis.’heads ached with the effort—as well they might.‘Mind and matter,’ said the lady in the wig, ‘glide swift into When it at last became necessary to release Elijah Pogramthe vortex of immensity. Howls the sublime, and softly sleeps from the corner, and the Committee saw him safely backthe calm Ideal, in the whispering chambers of Imagination. again to the next room, they were fervent in their admiration.To hear it, sweet it is. But then, outlaughs the stern philosopher,and saith to the Grotesque, “What ho! arrest for me Toe you, Mr Pogram, I am grateful. Toe-wards you, sir, I am‘Which,’ said Mr Buffum, ‘must have vent, or it will bust.that Agency. Go, bring it here!” And so the vision fadeth.’ inspired with lofty veneration, and with deep e-mo-tion. TheAfter this, they both took Mr Pogram by the hand, and sentiment Toe which I would propose to give ex-pression, sir,pressed it to their lips, as a patriotic palm. That homage paid, is this: “May you ever be as firm, sir, as your marble statter!the mother of the modern Gracchi called for chairs, and the May it ever be as great a terror Toe its ene-mies as you.”’three literary ladies went to work in earnest, to bring poor There is some reason to suppose that it was rather terriblePogram out, and make him show himself in all his brilliant to its friends; being a statue of the Elevated or Goblin School,colours.in which the Honourable Elijah Pogram was represented as inHow Pogram got out of his depth instantly, and how the a very high wind, with his hair all standing on end, and histhree L. L.’s were never in theirs, is a piece of history not nostrils blown wide open. But Mr Pogram thanked his friendworth recording. Suffice it, that being all four out of their and countryman for the aspiration to which he had given542

Charles Dickensutterance, and the Committee, after another solemn shaking most happy.’of hands, retired to bed, except the Doctor; who immediatelyrepaired to the newspaper-office, and there wrote a short bold enough to introduce a copy into your country?’‘It ain’t quite that, sir, neither,’ resumed Pogram; ‘air youpoem suggested by the events of the evening, beginning with ‘Certainly,’ said Martin. ‘Why not?’fourteen stars, and headed, ‘A Fragment. Suggested by witnessingthe Honourable Elijah Pogram engaged in a philo-‘That makes no difference,’ said Martin. ‘I’ll take a dozen if‘Its sentiments air strong, sir,’ hinted Pogram, darkly.sophical disputation with three of Columbia’s fairest daughters.By Doctor Ginery Dunkle. Of Troy.’‘No, sir,’ retorted Pogram. ‘Not A dozen. That is moreyou like.’If Pogram was as glad to get to bed as Martin was, he must than I require. If you are content to run the hazard, sir, here ishave been well rewarded for his labours. They started off again one for your Lord Chancellor,’ producing it, ‘and one fornext day (Martin and Mark previously disposing of their goods Your principal Secretary of State. I should wish them to see it,to the storekeepers of whom they had purchased them, for sir, as expressing what my opinions air. That they may notanything they would bring), and were fellow travellers to plead ignorance at a future time. But don’t get into danger,within a short distance of New York. When Pogram was about sir, on my account!’to leave them he grew thoughtful, and after pondering for ‘There is not the least danger, I assure you,’ said Martin. Sosome time, took Martin aside.he put the pamphlets in his pocket, and they parted.‘We air going to part, sir,’ said Pogram.Mr Bevan had written in his letter that, at a certain time,‘Pray don’t distress yourself,’ said Martin; ‘we must bear it.’ which fell out happily just then, he would be at a certain‘It ain’t that, sir,’ returned Pogram, ‘not at all. But I should hotel in the city, anxiously expecting to see them. To thiswish you to accept a copy of My oration.’place they repaired without a moment’s delay. They had the‘Thank you,’ said Martin, ‘you are very good. I shall be satisfaction of finding him within; and of being received by543

Martin Chuzzlewittheir good friend, with his own warmth and heartiness. return home at once?’‘I am truly sorry and ashamed,’ said Martin, ‘to have begged of ‘Oh, I think so,’ returned Martin hastily, for he turned paleyou. But look at us. See what we are, and judge to what we are at the thought of any other suggestion. ‘That is your opinionreduced!’too, I hope?’‘So far from claiming to have done you any service,’ returned ‘Unquestionably. For I don’t know why you ever came here;the other, ‘I reproach myself with having been, unwittingly, though it’s not such an unusual case, I am sorry to say, thatthe original cause of your misfortunes. I no more supposed we need go any farther into that. You don’t know that theyou would go to Eden on such representations as you received; ship in which you came over with our friend Generalor, indeed, that you would do anything but be dispossessed, by Fladdock, is in port, of course?’the readiest means, of your idea that fortunes were so easily ‘Indeed!’ said Martin.made here; than I thought of going to Eden myself.’‘Yes. And is advertised to sail to-morrow.’‘The fact is, I closed with the thing in a mad and sanguine This was tempting news, but tantalising too; for Martinmanner,’ said Martin, ‘and the less said about it the better for knew that his getting any employment on board a ship ofme. Mark, here, hadn’t a voice in the matter.’that class was hopeless. The money in his pocket would not‘Well! but he hadn’t a voice in any other matter, had he?’ pay one-fourth of the sum he had already borrowed, and if itreturned Mr Bevan; laughing with an air that showed his understandingof Mark and Martin too.have resolved to spend it. He explained this to Mr Bevan, andhad been enough for their passage-money, he could hardly‘Not a very powerful one, I am afraid,’ said Martin with a stated what their project was.blush. ‘But live and learn, Mr Bevan! Nearly die and learn; we ‘Why, that’s as wild as Eden every bit,’ returned his friend.learn the quicker.’‘You must take your passage like a Christian; at least, as like a‘Now,’ said their friend, ‘about your plans. You mean to Christian as a fore-cabin passenger can; and owe me a few544

Charles Dickensmore dollars than you intend. If Mark will go down to the I’d engage to take this said cook’s place upon the passage home.ship and see what passengers there are, and finds that you can “For you’re used to it,” he says; “you were always a-cookinggo in her without being actually suffocated, my advice is, go! for everybody on your passage out.” And so I was,’ said Mark,You and I will look about us in the meantime (we won’t call ‘although I never cooked before, I’ll take my oath.’at the Norris’s unless you like), and we will all three dine ‘What did you say?’ demanded Martin.together in the afternoon.’‘Say!’ cried Mark. ‘That I’d take anything I could get. “IfMartin had nothing to express but gratitude, and so it was that’s so,” says the mate, “why, bring a glass of rum;” whicharranged. But he went out of the room after Mark, and advisedhim to take their passage in the Screw, though they lay high glee, ‘pays your passage; and I’ve put the rolling-pin inthey brought according. And my wages, sir,’ said Mark inupon the bare deck; which Mr Tapley, who needed no entreatyon the subject readily promised to do.there we are, Rule Britannia, and Britons strike home!’your berth to take it (it’s the easy one up in the corner); andWhen he and Martin met again, and were alone, he was in ‘There never was such a good fellow as you are!’ cried Martinseizing him by the hand. ‘But what do you mean by “do-high spirits, and evidently had something to communicate,in which he gloried very much.ing” Mr Bevan, Mark?’‘I’ve done Mr Bevan, sir,’ said Mark.‘Why, don’t you see?’ said Mark. ‘We don’t tell him, you‘Done Mr Bevan!’ repeated Martin.know. We take his money, but we don’t spend it, and we‘The cook of the Screw went and got married yesterday, don’t keep it. What we do is, write him a little note, explainingthis engagement, and roll it up, and leave it at the bar, tosir,’ said Mr Tapley.Martin looked at him for farther explanation.be given to him after we are gone. Don’t you see?’‘And when I got on board, and the word was passed that it Martin’s delight in this idea was not inferior to Mark’s. Itwas me,’ said Mark, ‘the mate he comes and asks me whether was all done as he proposed. They passed a cheerful evening;545

Martin Chuzzlewitslept at the hotel; left the letter as arranged; and went off to ‘No,’ said Mark. ‘That wouldn’t do for me, sir. I shouldthe ship betimes next morning, with such light hearts as the want to draw it like a Bat, for its short-sightedness; like aweight of their past miseries engendered.Bantam, for its bragging; like a Magpie, for its honesty; like a‘Good-bye! a hundred thousand times good-bye!’ said Peacock, for its vanity; like a ostrich, for its putting its headMartin to their friend. ‘How shall I remember all your kindness!How shall I ever thank you!’‘And like a Phoenix, for its power of springing from thein the mud, and thinking nobody sees it—’‘If you ever become a rich man, or a powerful one,’ returnedhis friend, ‘you shall try to make your Government said Martin. ‘Well, Mark. Let us hope so.’ashes of its faults and vices, and soaring up anew into the sky!’more careful of its subjects when they roam abroad to live.Tell it what you know of emigration in your own case, andimpress upon it how much suffering may be prevented withCHAPTER THIRTY-FIVEa little pains!’Cheerily, lads, cheerily! Anchor weighed. Ship in full sail.ARRIVING IN ENGLAND, MARTIN WIT-Her sturdy bowsprit pointing true to England. America a cloudNESSES A CEREMONY, FROM WHICH HEupon the sea behind them!DERIVES THE CHEERING INFORMATION‘Why, Cook! what are you thinking of so steadily?’ saidTHAT HE HAS NOT BEEN FORGOTTENMartin.IN HIS ABSENCE‘Why, I was a-thinking, sir,’ returned Mark, ‘that if I was apainter and was called upon to paint the American Eagle, howIT WAS MID-DAY, and high water in the English port for whichshould I do it?’the Screw was bound, when, borne in gallantly upon the fullnessof the tide, she let go her anchor in the‘Paint it as like an Eagle as you could, I suppose.’river.546

Charles DickensBright as the scene was; fresh, and full of motion; airy, free, prospect and resource, they came back poorer men than theyand sparkling; it was nothing to the life and exultation in the had gone away. But it was home. And though home is a name,breasts of the two travellers, at sight of the old churches, roofs, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke,and darkened chimney stacks of Home. The distant roar that or spirit answered to, in strongest conjuration.swelled up hoarsely from the busy streets, was music in their Being set ashore, with very little money in their pockets, andears; the lines of people gazing from the wharves, were friends no definite plan of operation in their heads, they sought out aheld dear; the canopy of smoke that overhung the town was cheap tavern, where they regaled upon a smoking steak, and certainflowing mugs of beer, as only men just landed from the seabrighter and more beautiful to them than if the richest silksof Persia had been waving in the air. And though the water can revel in the generous dainties of the earth. When they hadgoing on its glistening track, turned, ever and again, aside to feasted, as two grateful-tempered giants might have done, theydance and sparkle round great ships, and heave them up; and stirred the fire, drew back the glowing curtain from the window,leaped from off the blades of oars, a shower of diving diamonds;and wantoned with the idle boats, and swiftly passed, wieldy chairs, gazed blissfully into the street.and making each a sofa for himself, by union of the great un-in many a sportive chase, through obdurate old iron rings, set Even the street was made a fairy street, by being half hiddendeep into the stone-work of the quays; not even it was half so in an atmosphere of steak, and strong, stout, stand-up Englishbeer. For on the window-glass hung such a mist, thatbuoyant, and so restless, as their fluttering hearts, when yearningto set foot, once more, on native ground.Mr Tapley was obliged to rise and wipe it with his handkerchief,before the passengers appeared like common mortals.A year had passed since those same spires and roofs hadfaded from their eyes. It seemed to them, a dozen years. Some And even then, a spiral little cloud went curling up from theirtrifling changes, here and there, they called to mind; and wonderedthat they were so few and slight. In health and fortune,two glasses of hot grog, which nearly hid them from eachother.547

Martin ChuzzlewitIt was one of those unaccountable little rooms which are ‘Of course,’ said Martin. ‘But I don’t know where she is.never seen anywhere but in a tavern, and are supposed to have Not having had the heart to write in our distress—you yourselfthought silence most advisable—and consequently, nevergot into taverns by reason of the facilities afforded to the architectfor getting drunk while engaged in their construction. It having heard from her since we left New York the first time,had more corners in it than the brain of an obstinate man; was I don’t know where she is, my good fellow.’full of mad closets, into which nothing could be put that was ‘My opinion is, sir,’ returned Mark, ‘that what we’ve got tonot specially invented and made for that purpose; had mysteriousshelvings and bulkheads, and indications of staircases in the to go there, where you’re known, unless you like. You maydo is to travel straight to the Dragon. There’s no need for youceiling; and was elaborately provided with a bell that rung in stop ten mile short of it. I’ll go on. Mrs Lupin will tell me allthe room itself, about two feet from the handle, and had no the news. Mr Pinch will give me every information that weconnection whatever with any other part of the establishment. want; and right glad Mr Pinch will be to do it. My proposalIt was a little below the pavement, and abutted close upon it; is: To set off walking this afternoon. To stop when we areso that passengers grated against the window-panes with their tired. To get a lift when we can. To walk when we can’t. To dobuttons, and scraped it with their baskets; and fearful boys suddenlycoming between a thoughtful guest and the light, de-‘Unless we do it cheap, we shall have some difficulty in doingit at once, and do it cheap.’rided him, or put out their tongues as if he were a physician; or it at all,’ said Martin, pulling out the bank, and telling it over inmade white knobs on the ends of their noses by flattening the his hand.same against the glass, and vanished awfully, like spectres. ‘The greater reason for losing no time, sir,’ replied Mark.Martin and Mark sat looking at the people as they passed, ‘Whereas, when you’ve seen the young lady; and know whatdebating every now and then what their first step should be. state of mind the old gentleman’s in, and all about it; then‘We want to see Miss Mary, of course,’ said Mark. you’ll know what to do next.’548

Charles Dickens‘No doubt,’ said Martin. ‘You are quite right.’in, Mark.’They were raising their glasses to their lips, when their hands Mr Tapley retired for that purpose, and immediately returnedwith their large-headed host in safe convoy.stopped midway, and their gaze was arrested by a figure whichslowly, very slowly, and reflectively, passed the window at ‘Pray, landlord!’ said Martin, ‘who is that gentleman whothat moment.passed just now, and whom you were looking after?’Mr Pecksniff. Placid, calm, but proud. Honestly proud. The landlord poked the fire as if, in his desire to make theDressed with peculiar care, smiling with even more than usual most of his answer, he had become indifferent even to theblandness, pondering on the beauties of his art with a mild price of coals; and putting his hands in his pockets, said, afterabstraction from all sordid thoughts, and gently travelling inflating himself to give still further effect to his reply:across the disc, as if he were a figure in a magic lantern. ‘That, gentlemen, is the great Mr Pecksniff! The celebratedAs Mr Pecksniff passed, a person coming in the opposite direction architect, gentlemen!’stopped to look after him with great interest and respect, almost He looked from one to the other while he said it, as if hewith veneration; and the landlord bouncing out of the house, as if he were ready to assist the first man who might be overcome byhad seen him too, joined this person, and spoke to him, and shook the intelligence.his head gravely, and looked after Mr Pecksniff likewise.‘The great Mr Pecksniff, the celebrated architect, gentlemen.’said the landlord, ‘has come down here, to help to layMartin and Mark sat staring at each other, as if they couldnot believe it; but there stood the landlord, and the other the first stone of a new and splendid public building.’man still. In spite of the indignation with which this glimpse ‘Is it to be built from his designs?’ asked Martin.of Mr Pecksniff had inspired him, Martin could not help ‘The great Mr Pecksniff, the celebrated architect, gentlemen,’returned the landlord, who seemed to have an unspeak-laughing heartily. Neither could Mark.‘We must inquire into this!’ said Martin. ‘Ask the landlord able delight in the repetition of these words, ‘carried off the549

Martin ChuzzlewitFirst Premium, and will erect the building.’famous corner on the ground, where they could see all that‘Who lays the stone?’ asked Martin.passed, without much dread of being beheld by Mr Pecksniff‘Our member has come down express,’ returned the landlord.‘No scrubs would do for no such a purpose. Nothing in the act of congratulating each other, a great noise was heardin return. They were not a minute too soon, for as they wereless would satisfy our Directors than our member in the House at some distance, and everybody looked towards the gate.of Commons, who is returned upon the Gentlemanly Interest.ing;and a stray teacher belonging to the charity school beingSeveral ladies prepared their pocket handkerchiefs for wav-‘Which interest is that?’ asked Martin.much cheered by mistake, was immensely groaned at when‘What, don’t you know!’ returned the landlord.detected.It was quite clear the landlord didn’t. They always told him ‘Perhaps he has Tom Pinch with him,’ Martin whisperedat election time, that it was the Gentlemanly side, and he Mr Tapley.immediately put on his top-boots, and voted for it.‘It would be rather too much of a treat for him, wouldn’t‘When does the ceremony take place?’ asked Martin. it, sir?’ whispered Mr Tapley in return.‘This day,’ replied the landlord. Then pulling out his watch, There was no time to discuss the probabilities either way,he added, impressively, ‘almost this minute.’for the charity school, in clean linen, came filing in two andMartin hastily inquired whether there was any possibility two, so much to the self-approval of all the people presentof getting in to witness it; and finding that there would be no who didn’t subscribe to it, that many of them shed tears. Aobjection to the admittance of any decent person, unless indeedthe ground were full, hurried off with Mark, as hard as never left off. Then came a great many gentlemen with wandsband of music followed, led by a conscientious drummer whothey could go.in their hands, and bows on their breasts, whose share in theThey were fortunate enough to squeeze themselves into a proceedings did not appear to be distinctly laid down, and550

Charles Dickenswho trod upon each other, and blocked up the entry for a him directions, how pleasant his demeanour to the workingconsiderable period. These were followed by the Mayor and classes; just the sort of man who made their toil a pleasure toCorporation, all clustering round the member for the GentlemanlyInterest; who had the great Mr Pecksniff, the celebrated But now a silver trowel was brought; and when the mem-them, poor dear souls!architect on his right hand, and conversed with him familiarlyas they came along. Then the ladies waved their hand-did a little sleight of hand with the mortar, the air was rent, sober for the Gentlemanly Interest, tucking up his coat-sleeve,kerchiefs, and the gentlemen their hats, and the charity childrenshrieked, and the member for the Gentlemanly Interest he did it was amazing. No one could conceive where such aloud was the applause. The workman-like manner in whichbowed.gentlemanly creature could have picked the knowledge up.Silence being restored, the member for the Gentlemanly When he had made a kind of dirt-pie under the direction ofInterest rubbed his hands, and wagged his head, and looked the mason, they brought a little vase containing coins, theabout him pleasantly; and there was nothing this member which the member for the Gentlemanly Interest jingled, as ifdid, at which some lady or other did not burst into an ecstatic he were going to conjure. Whereat they said how droll, howwaving of her pocket handkerchief. When he looked up at cheerful, what a flow of spirits! This put into its place, anthe stone, they said how graceful! when he peeped into the ancient scholar read the inscription, which was in Latin; nothole, they said how condescending! when he chatted with the in English; that would never do. It gave great satisfaction;Mayor, they said how easy! when he folded his arms they especially every time there was a good long substantive in thecried with one accord, how statesman-like!third declension, ablative case, with an adjective to match; atMr Pecksniff was observed too, closely. When he talked to which periods the assembly became very tender, and were muchthe Mayor, they said, Oh, really, what a courtly man he was! affected.When he laid his hand upon the mason’s shoulder, giving And now the stone was lowered down into its place, amidst551

Martin Chuzzlewitthe shouting of the concourse. When it was firmly fixed, the he had just performed.member for the Gentlemanly Interest struck upon it thrice He said that since he had sat in Parliament to represent thewith the handle of the trowel, as if inquiring, with a touch of Gentlemanly Interest of that town; and he might add, the Ladyhumour, whether anybody was at home. Mr Pecksniff then Interest, he hoped, besides (pocket handkerchiefs); it had beenunrolled his Plans (prodigious plans they were), and people his pleasant duty to come among them, and to raise his voicegathered round to look at and admire them.on their behalf in Another Place (pocket handkerchiefs andMartin, who had been fretting himself—quite unnecessarily,as Mark thought—during the whole of these proceed-never raised his voice, with half such pure, such deep, suchlaughter), often. But he had never come among them, and hadings, could no longer restrain his impatience; but stepping unalloyed delight, as now. ‘The present occasion,’ he said, ‘willforward among several others, looked straight over the shoulderof the unconscious Mr Pecksniff, at the designs and plans signed, but because it has afforded me an opportunity of be-ever be memorable to me; not only for the reasons I have as-he had unrolled. He returned to Mark, boiling with rage. coming personally known to a gentleman—’‘Why, what’s the matter, sir?’ cried Mark.Here he pointed the trowel at Mr Pecksniff, who was greeted‘Matter! This is my building.’with vociferous cheering, and laid his hand upon his heart.‘Your building, sir!’ said Mark.‘To a gentleman who, I am happy to believe, will reap both‘My grammar-school. I invented it. I did it all. He has only distinction and profit from this field; whose fame had previouslypenetrated to me—as to whose ears has it not!—butput four windows in, the villain, and spoilt it!’Mark could hardly believe it at first, but being assured that it whose intellectual countenance I never had the distinguishedwas really so, actually held him to prevent his interference foolishly,until his temporary heat was past. In the meantime, the versation I had never before the improving pleasure to enjoy.’honour to behold until this day, and whose intellectual con-member addressed the company on the gratifying deed which Everybody seemed very glad of this, and applauded more552

Charles Dickensthan ever.more for Mr Pecksniff, gentlemen, if you please! One more,‘But I hope my Honourable Friend,’ said the Gentlemanly gentlemen, for Mr Pecksniff, and let it be a good one to finishwith!member—of course he added “if he will allow me to call himso,” and of course Mr Pecksniff bowed—’will give me many In short, Mr Pecksniff was supposed to have done a greatopportunities of cultivating the knowledge of him; and that I work and was very kindly, courteously, and generously rewarded.When the procession moved away, and Martin andmay have the extraordinary gratification of reflecting in aftertimethat I laid on this day two first stones, both belonging Mark were left almost alone upon the ground, his merits andto structures which shall last my life!’a desire to acknowledge them formed the common topic. HeGreat cheering again. All this time, Martin was cursing Mr was only second to the Gentlemanly member.Pecksniff up hill and down dale.‘Compare the fellow’s situation to-day with ours!’ said Martin‘My friends!’ said Mr Pecksniff, in reply. ‘My duty is to bitterly.build, not speak; to act, not talk; to deal with marble, stone, ‘Lord bless you, sir!’ cried Mark, ‘what’s the use? Some architectsare clever at making foundations, and some architectsand brick; not language. I am very much affected. God blessyou!’are clever at building on ‘em when they’re made. But it’ll allThis address, pumped out apparently from Mr Pecksniff’s come right in the end, sir; it’ll all come right!’very heart, brought the enthusiasm to its highest pitch. The ‘And in the meantime—’ began Martin.pocket handkerchiefs were waved again; the charity children ‘In the meantime, as you say, sir, we have a deal to do, andwere admonished to grow up Pecksniffs, every boy among far to go. So sharp’s the word, and Jolly!’them; the Corporation, gentlemen with wands, member for ‘You are the best master in the world, Mark,’ said Martin,the Gentlemanly Interest, all cheered for Mr Pecksniff. Three ‘and I will not be a bad scholar if I can help it, I am resolved!cheers for Mr Pecksniff! Three more for Mr Pecksniff! Three So come! Best foot foremost, old fellow!’553

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIXTOM PINCH DEPARTS TO SEEK HIS FOR-TUNE.WHAT HE FINDS AT STARTINGOH! WHAT A DIFFERENT town Salisbury was in Tom Pinch’seyes to be sure, when the substantial Pecksniff of his heartmelted away into an idle dream! He possessed the same faithin the wonderful shops, the same intensified appreciation ofthe mystery and wickedness of the place; made the same exaltedestimate of its wealth, population, and resources; and yetit was not the old city nor anything like it. He walked into themarket while they were getting breakfast ready for him at theInn; and though it was the same market as of old, crowded bythe same buyers and sellers; brisk with the same business; noisywith the same confusion of tongues and cluttering of fowls incoops; fair with the same display of rolls of butter, newly made,set forth in linen cloths of dazzling whiteness; green with thesame fresh show of dewy vegetables; dainty with the same arrayMartin Chuzzlewit554in higglers’ baskets of small shaving-glasses, laces, braces, trouser-straps,and hardware; savoury with the same unstinted showof delicate pigs’ feet, and pies made precious by the pork thatonce had walked upon them; still it was strangely changed toTom. For, in the centre of the market-place, he missed a statuehe had set up there as in all other places of his personal resort;and it looked cold and bare without that ornament.The change lay no deeper than this, for Tom was far frombeing sage enough to know, that, having been disappointedin one man, it would have been a strictly rational and eminentlywise proceeding to have revenged himself upon mankindin general, by mistrusting them one and all. Indeed thispiece of justice, though it is upheld by the authority of diversprofound poets and honourable men, bears a nearer resemblanceto the justice of that good Vizier in the Thousandand-oneNights, who issues orders for the destruction of allthe Porters in Bagdad because one of that unfortunate fraternityis supposed to have misconducted himself, than to anylogical, not to say Christian, system of conduct, known tothe world in later times.Tom had so long been used to steep the Pecksniff of his

Charles Dickensfancy in his tea, and spread him out upon his toast, and take to the old finger-post at the old time; which would enablehim as a relish with his beer, that he made but a poor breakfaston the first morning after his expulsion. Nor did he much save the expense of its carriage. ‘So,’ said Tom, comfortinghim to take that treasure with him to the metropolis, andimprove his appetite for dinner by seriously considering his himself, ‘it’s very nearly as broad as it’s long.’own affairs, and taking counsel thereon with his friend the And it cannot be denied that, when he had made up hisorganist’s assistant.mind to even this extent, he felt an unaccustomed sense ofThe organist’s assistant gave it as his decided opinion that freedom—a vague and indistinct impression of holiday-making—whichwas very luxurious. He had his moments of de-whatever Tom did, he must go to London; for there was noplace like it. Which may be true in the main, though hardly, pression and anxiety, and they were, with good reason, prettyperhaps, in itself, a sufficient reason for Tom’s going there. numerous; but still, it was wonderfully pleasant to reflect thatBut Tom had thought of London before, and had coupled he was his own master, and could plan and scheme for himself.It was startling, thrilling, vast, difficult to understand; itwith it thoughts of his sister, and of his old friend JohnWestlock, whose advice he naturally felt disposed to seek in was a stupendous truth, teeming with responsibility and selfdistrust;but in spite of all his cares, it gave a curious relish tothis important crisis of his fortunes. To London, therefore,he resolved to go; and he went away to the coach-office at the viands at the Inn, and interposed a dreamy haze betweenonce, to secure his place. The coach being already full, he was him and his prospects, in which they sometimes showed toobliged to postpone his departure until the next night; but magical advantage.even this circumstance had its bright side as well as its dark In this unsettled state of mind, Tom went once more toone, for though it threatened to reduce his poor purse with bed in the low four-poster, to the same immovable surpriseunexpected country charges, it afforded him an opportunity of the effigies of the former landlord and the fat ox; and inof writing to Mrs Lupin and appointing his box to be brought this condition, passed the whole of the succeeding day. When555

Martin Chuzzlewitthe coach came round at last with ‘London’ blazoned in lettersof gold upon the boot, it gave Tom such a turn, that he breezy miles a day were written in his very whiskers. His maninglike an accident could befall it. The guard, too! Seventywas half disposed to run away. But he didn’t do it; for he ners were a canter; his conversation a round trot. He was atook his seat upon the box instead, and looking down upon fast coach upon a down-hill turnpike road; he was all pace. Athe four greys, felt as if he were another grey himself, or, at all waggon couldn’t have moved slowly, with that guard and hisevents, a part of the turn-out; and was quite confused by the key-bugle on the top of it.novelty and splendour of his situation.These were all foreshadowings of London, Tom thought,And really it might have confused a less modest man than as he sat upon the box, and looked about him. Such a coachman,and such a guard, never could have existed betweenTom to find himself sitting next that coachman; for of all theswells that ever flourished a whip professionally, he might Salisbury and any other place. The coach was none of yourhave been elected emperor. He didn’t handle his gloves like steady-going, yokel coaches, but a swaggering, rakish, dissipatedLondon coach; up all night, and lying by all day, andanother man, but put them on—even when he was standingon the pavement, quite detached from the coach—as if the leading a devil of a life. It cared no more for Salisbury than iffour greys were, somehow or other, at the ends of the fingers. it had been a hamlet. It rattled noisily through the best streets,It was the same with his hat. He did things with his hat, defied the Cathedral, took the worst corners sharpest, wentwhich nothing but an unlimited knowledge of horses and the cutting in everywhere, making everything get out of its way;wildest freedom of the road, could ever have made him perfectin. Valuable little parcels were brought to him with paranceout of its key-bugle, as its last glad parting legacy.and spun along the open country-road, blowing a lively defiticularinstructions, and he pitched them into this hat, and It was a charming evening. Mild and bright. And even withstuck it on again; as if the laws of gravity did not admit of the weight upon his mind which arose out of the immensitysuch an event as its being knocked off or blown off, and noth-and uncertainty of London, Tom could not resist the capti-556

Charles Dickensvating sense of rapid motion through the pleasant air. The away, and showing, in the waning light, like ruined gables,four greys skimmed along, as if they liked it quite as well as old and brown. Yoho, down the pebbly dip, and through theTom did; the bugle was in as high spirits as the greys; the merry water-splash and up at a canter to the level road again.coachman chimed in sometimes with his voice; the wheels Yoho! Yoho!hummed cheerfully in unison; the brass work on the harness Was the box there, when they came up to the old fingerpost?The box! Was Mrs Lupin herself? Had she turned outwas an orchestra of little bells; and thus, as they went clinking,jingling, rattling smoothly on, the whole concern, from magnificently as a hostess should, in her own chaise-cart, andthe buckles of the leaders’ coupling-reins to the handle of the was she sitting in a mahogany chair, driving her own horsehind boot, was one great instrument of music.Dragon (who ought to have been called Dumpling), and lookinglovely? Did the stage-coach pull up beside her, shaving herYoho, past hedges, gates, and trees; past cottages and barns,and people going home from work. Yoho, past donkey-chaises, very wheel, and even while the guard helped her man up withdrawn aside into the ditch, and empty carts with rampant the trunk, did he send the glad echoes of his bugle careeringhorses, whipped up at a bound upon the little watercourse, down the chimneys of the distant Pecksniff, as if the coachand held by struggling carters close to the five-barred gate, expressed its exultation in the rescue of Tom Pinch?until the coach had passed the narrow turning in the road. ‘This is kind indeed!’ said Tom, bending down to shakeYoho, by churches dropped down by themselves in quiet hands with her. ‘I didn’t mean to give you this trouble.’nooks, with rustic burial-grounds about them, where the graves ‘Trouble, Mr Pinch!’ cried the hostess of the Dragon.are green, and daisies sleep—for it is evening—on the bosomsof the dead. Yoho, past streams, in which the cattle cool her hand heartily. ‘Is there any news?’‘Well! It’s a pleasure to you, I know,’ said Tom, squeezingtheir feet, and where the rushes grow; past paddock-fences, The hostess shook her head.farms, and rick-yards; past last year’s stacks, cut, slice by slice, ‘Say you saw me,’ said Tom, ‘and that I was very bold and557

Martin Chuzzlewitcheerful, and not a bit down-hearted; and that I entreated her ‘And that’s the last of the old finger-post,’ thought Tom,to be the same, for all is certain to come right at last. Goodbye!’coach go by, and where I have parted with so many compan-straining his eyes, ‘where I have so often stood to see this very‘You’ll write when you get settled, Mr Pinch?’ said Mrs ions! I used to compare this coach to some great monster thatLupin.appeared at certain times to bear my friends away into the‘When I get settled!’ cried Tom, with an involuntary openingof his eyes. ‘Oh, yes, I’ll write when I get settled. Perhaps Heaven knows where and how!’world. And now it’s bearing me away, to seek my fortune,I had better write before, because I may find that it takes a It made Tom melancholy to picture himself walking up thelittle time to settle myself; not having too much money, and lane and back to Pecksniff’s as of old; and being melancholy,having only one friend. I shall give your love to the friend, by he looked downwards at the basket on his knee, which hethe way. You were always great with Mr Westlock, you know. had for the moment forgotten.Good-bye!’‘She is the kindest and most considerate creature in the‘Good-bye!’ said Mrs Lupin, hastily producing a basket with world,’ thought Tom. ‘Now I know that she particularly tolda long bottle sticking out of it. ‘Take this. Good-bye!’ that man of hers not to look at me, on purpose to prevent‘Do you want me to carry it to London for you?’ cried my throwing him a shilling! I had it ready for him all theTom. She was already turning the chaise-cart round. time, and he never once looked towards me; whereas that‘No, no,’ said Mrs Lupin. ‘It’s only a little something for man naturally, (for I know him very well,) would have donerefreshment on the road. Sit fast, Jack. Drive on, sir. All right! nothing but grin and stare. Upon my word, the kindness ofGood-bye!’people perfectly melts me.’She was a quarter of a mile off, before Tom collected himself;and then he was waving his hand lustily; and so was she. markable fine woman for her time of life,’ said theHere he caught the coachman’s eye. The coachman winked. ‘Re-coachman.558

Charles Dickens‘I quite agree with you,’ returned Tom. ‘So she is.’ put in his pocket.‘Finer than many a young ‘un, I mean to say,’ observed the The coachman was so earnest in his approval of Mrs Lupin’scoachman. ‘Eh?’provident habits, and congratulated Torn so warmly on his‘Than many a young one,’ Tom assented.good fortune, that Tom felt it necessary, for the lady’s sake, to‘I don’t care for ‘em myself when they’re too young,’ remarkedthe coachman.merely been presented to him in the way of friendship. Whenexplain that the basket was a strictly Platonic basket, and hadThis was a matter of taste, which Tom did not feel himself he had made the statement with perfect gravity; for he felt itcalled upon to discuss.incumbent on him to disabuse the mind of this lax rover of‘You’ll seldom find ‘em possessing correct opinions about any incorrect impressions on the subject; he signified that herefreshment, for instance, when they’re too young, you know,’ would be happy to share the gifts with him, and proposedsaid the coachman; ‘a woman must have arrived at maturity, that they should attack the basket in a spirit of good fellowshipat any time in the course of the night which the coachman’sbefore her mind’s equal to coming provided with a basketlike that.’experience and knowledge of the road might suggest, as being‘Perhaps you would like to know what it contains?’ said best adapted to the purpose. From this time they chatted soTom, smiling.pleasantly together, that although Tom knew infinitely moreAs the coachman only laughed, and as Tom was curious of unicorns than horses, the coachman informed his friendhimself, he unpacked it, and put the articles, one by one, the guard at the end of the next stage, ‘that rum as the boxseatlooked, he was as good a one to go, in pint of conversa-upon the footboard. A cold roast fowl, a packet of ham inslices, a crusty loaf, a piece of cheese, a paper of biscuits, half tion, as ever he’d wish to sit by.’a dozen apples, a knife, some butter, a screw of salt, and a Yoho, among the gathering shades; making of no accountbottle of old sherry. There was a letter besides, which Tom the deep reflections of the trees, but scampering on through559

Martin Chuzzlewitlight and darkness, all the same, as if the light of London fifty of turning up your finger, Bill, another pull! Now, take yourmiles away, were quite enough to travel by, and some to spare. breath, and try the bugle, Bill. There’s music! There’s a tone!’Yoho, beside the village green, where cricket-players linger yet, over the hills and far away,’ indeed. Yoho! The skittish mare isand every little indentation made in the fresh grass by bat or all alive to-night. Yoho! Yoho!wicket, ball or player’s foot, sheds out its perfume on the See the bright moon! High up before we know it; makingnight. Away with four fresh horses from the Bald-faced Stag, the earth reflect the objects on its breast like water. Hedges,where topers congregate about the door admiring; and the trees, low cottages, church steeples, blighted stumps and flourishingyoung slips, have all grown vain upon the sudden, andlast team with traces hanging loose, go roaming off towardsthe pond, until observed and shouted after by a dozen throats, mean to contemplate their own fair images till morning. Thewhile volunteering boys pursue them. Now, with a clattering poplars yonder rustle that their quivering leaves may see themselvesupon the ground. Not so the oak; trembling does notof hoofs and striking out of fiery sparks, across the old stonebridge, and down again into the shadowy road, and through become him; and he watches himself in his stout old burlythe open gate, and far away, away, into the wold. Yoho! steadfastness, without the motion of a twig. The moss-grownYoho, behind there, stop that bugle for a moment! Come gate, ill-poised upon its creaking hinges, crippled and decayedcreeping over to the front, along the coach-roof, guard, and swings to and fro before its glass, like some fantastic dowager;make one at this basket! Not that we slacken in our pace the while our own ghostly likeness travels on, Yoho! Yoho! throughwhile, not we; we rather put the bits of blood upon their ditch and brake, upon the ploughed land and the smooth,metal, for the greater glory of the snack. Ah! It is long since along the steep hillside and steeper wall, as if it were a phantom-Hunter.this bottle of old wine was brought into contact with themellow breath of night, you may depend, and rare good stuff Clouds too! And a mist upon the Hollow! Not a dull fogit is to wet a bugler’s whistle with. Only try it. Don’t be afraid that hides it, but a light airy gauze-like mist, which in our560

Charles Dickenseyes of modest admiration gives a new charm to the beauties ‘Upon my word,’ said Tom, ‘I should not have mindedit is spread before; as real gauze has done ere now, and would very much, if we had been five hours after it; for at this earlyagain, so please you, though we were the Pope. Yoho! Why hour I don’t know where to go, or what to do with myself.’now we travel like the Moon herself. Hiding this minute in a ‘Don’t they expect you then?’ inquired the driver.grove of trees; next minute in a patch of vapour; emerging ‘Who?’ said Tom.now upon our broad clear course; withdrawing now, but alwaysdashing on, our journey is a counter-part of hers. Yoho! His mind was so clearly running on the assumption of Tom’s‘Why them,’ returned the driver.A match against the Moon!having come to town to see an extensive circle of anxiousThe beauty of the night is hardly felt, when Day comes relations and friends, that it would have been pretty hard workrushing up. Yoho! Two stages, and the country roads are almostchanged to a continuous street. Yoho, past market-gar-subject, and going into the Inn, fell fast asleep before a fire into undeceive him. Tom did not try. He cheerfully evaded thedens, rows of houses, villas, crescents, terraces, and squares; one of the public rooms opening from the yard. When hepast waggons, coaches, carts; past early workmen, late stragglers,drunken men, and sober carriers of loads; past brick and and dressed himself; to his great refreshment after the jour-awoke, the people in the house were all astir, so he washedmortar in its every shape; and in among the rattling pavements,where a jaunty-seat upon a coach is not so easy to once to see his old friend John.ney; and, it being by that time eight o’clock, went forth atpreserve! Yoho, down countless turnings, and through countlessmazy ways, until an old Innyard is gained, and Tom Pinch, was within a quarter of an hour’s walk of Tom’s starting-point,John Westlock lived in Furnival’s Inn, High Holborn, whichgetting down quite stunned and giddy, is in London! but seemed a long way off, by reason of his going two or‘Five minutes before the time, too!’ said the driver, as he three miles out of the straight road to make a short cut. Whenreceived his fee of Tom.at last he arrived outside John’s door, two stories up, he stood561

Martin Chuzzlewitfaltering with his hand upon the knocker, and trembled from you standing there for?’—quite violently.head to foot. For he was rendered very nervous by the thought Tom stepped from the little passage into the room fromof having to relate what had fallen out between himself and which these sounds proceeded, and had barely caught a glimpsePecksniff; and he had a misgiving that John would exult fearfullyin the disclosure.beside him ready to put on), sitting at his breakfast with aof a gentleman in a dressing-gown and slippers (with his boots‘But it must be made,’ thought Tom, ‘sooner or later; and I newspaper in his hand, when the said gentleman, at the imminenthazard of oversetting his tea-table, made a plunge athad better get it over.’Rat tat.Tom, and hugged him.‘I am afraid that’s not a London knock,’ thought Tom. ‘It ‘Why, Tom, my boy!’ cried the gentleman. ‘Tom!’didn’t sound bold. Perhaps that’s the reason why nobody answersthe door.’shaking both his hands, and trembling more than ever. ‘How‘How glad I am to see you, Mr Westlock!’ said Tom Pinch,It is quite certain that nobody came, and that Tom stood kind you are!’looking at the knocker; wondering whereabouts in the ‘Mr Westlock!’ repeated John, ‘what do you mean by that,neighbourhood a certain gentleman resided, who was roaring Pinch? You have not forgotten my Christian name, I suppose?’out to somebody ‘Come in!’ with all his might.‘Bless my soul!’ thought Tom at last. ‘Perhaps he lives here, ‘No, John, no. I have not forgotten,’ said Thomas Pinch.and is calling to me. I never thought of that. Can I open the ‘Good gracious me, how kind you are!’door from the outside, I wonder. Yes, to be sure I can.’ ‘I never saw such a fellow in all my life!’ cried John. ‘WhatTo be sure he could, by turning the handle; and to be sure do you mean by saying that over and over again? What didwhen he did turn it the same voice came rushing out, crying you expect me to be, I wonder! Here, sit down, Tom, and be‘Why don’t you come in? Come in, do you hear? What are a reasonable creature. How are you, my boy? I am delighted562

Charles Dickensto see you!’without disconcerting himself in the least.‘And I am delighted to see you,’ said Tom.‘There!’ said John, sitting down for the fiftieth time, and instantlystarting up again to make some other addition to the break-‘It’s mutual, of course,’ returned John. ‘It always was, Ihope. If I had known you had been coming, Tom, I would fast. ‘Now we are as well off as we are likely to be till dinner. Andhave had something for breakfast. I would rather have such a now let us have the news, Tom. Imprimis, how’s Pecksniff?’surprise than the best breakfast in the world, myself; but yours ‘I don’t know how he is,’ was Tom’s grave answer.is another case, and I have no doubt you are as hungry as a John Westlock put the teapot down, and looked at him, inhunter. You must make out as well as you can, Tom, and astonishment.we’ll recompense ourselves at dinner-time. You take sugar, I ‘I don’t know how he is,’ said Thomas Pinch; ‘and, savingknow; I recollect the sugar at Pecksniff’s. Ha, ha, ha! How IS that I wish him no ill, I don’t care. I have left him, John. IPecksniff? When did you come to town? Do begin at somethingor other, Tom. There are only scraps here, but they are ‘Voluntarily?’have left him for ever.’not at all bad. Boar’s Head potted. Try it, Tom. Make a beginningwhatever you do. What an old Blade you are! I am I was mistaken in him; and I could not have remained with‘Why, no, for he dismissed me. But I had first found out thatdelighted to see you.’him under any circumstances. I grieve to say that you wereWhile he delivered himself of these words in a state of great right in your estimate of his character. It may be a ridiculouscommotion, John was constantly running backwards and weakness, John, but it has been very painful and bitter to me toforwards to and from the closet, bringing out all sorts of things find this out, I do assure you.’in pots, scooping extraordinary quantities of tea out of the Tom had no need to direct that appealing look towards hiscaddy, dropping French rolls into his boots, pouring hot waterover the butter, and making a variety of similar mistakes laugh. John Westlock would as soon have thought offriend, in mild and gentle deprecation of his answering with astriking563

Martin Chuzzlewithim down upon the floor.‘That’s all right,’ said John, after contemplating his visitor’s‘It was all a dream of mine,’ said Tom, ‘and it is over. I’ll tell proceedings with infinite satisfaction. ‘Now, about our plans.you how it happened, at some other time. Bear with my folly, You are going to stay with me, of course. Where’s your box?’John. I do not, just now, like to think or speak about it.’ ‘It’s at the Inn,’ said Tom. ‘I didn’t intend—’‘I swear to you, Tom,’ returned his friend, with great earnestnessof manner, after remaining silent for a few moments, posed. ‘What you did intend is more to the purpose. You‘Never mind what you didn’t intend,’ John Westlock inter-‘that when I see, as I do now, how deeply you feel this, I don’t intended, in coming here, to ask my advice, did you not,know whether to be glad or sorry that you have made the Tom?’discovery at last. I reproach myself with the thought that I ‘Certainly.’ever jested on the subject; I ought to have known better.’ ‘And to take it when I gave it to you?’‘My dear friend,’ said Tom, extending his hand, ‘it is very ‘Yes,’ rejoined Tom, smiling, ‘if it were good advice, which,generous and gallant in you to receive me and my disclosure being yours, I have no doubt it will be.’in this spirit; it makes me blush to think that I should have ‘Very well. Then don’t be an obstinate old humbug in thefelt a moment’s uneasiness as I came along. You can’t think outset, Tom, or I shall shut up shop and dispense none ofwhat a weight is lifted off my mind,’ said Tom, taking up his that invaluable commodity. You are on a visit to me. I wish Iknife and fork again, and looking very cheerful. ‘I shall punishthe Boar’s Head dreadfully.’‘So do the gentlemen downstairs, and the gentlemen over-had an organ for you, Tom!’The host, thus reminded of his duties, instantly betook head I have no doubt,’ was Tom’s reply.himself to piling up all kinds of irreconcilable and contradictoryviands in Tom’s plate, and a very capital breakfast Tom sister this morning,’ pursued his friend, ‘and of course you‘Let me see. In the first place, you will wish to see yourmade, and very much the better for it Tom felt.will like to go there alone. I’ll walk part of the way with you;564

Charles Dickensand see about a little business of my own, and meet you here boots, and put his boots on, and dressed himself; giving Tomagain in the afternoon. Put that in your pocket, Tom. It’s the paper to read in the meanwhile. When he returned,only the key of the door. If you come home first you’ll want equipped for walking, he found Tom in a brown study, withit.’the paper in his hand.‘Really,’ said Tom, ‘quartering one’s self upon a friend in ‘Dreaming, Tom?’this way—’‘No,’ said Mr Pinch, ‘No. I have been looking over the‘Why, there are two keys,’ interposed John Westlock. ‘I advertising sheet, thinking there might be something in itcan’t open the door with them both at once, can I? What a which would be likely to suit me. But, as I often think, theridiculous fellow you are, Tom? Nothing particular you’d like strange thing seems to be that nobody is suited. Here are allfor dinner, is there?’kinds of employers wanting all sorts of servants, and all sorts‘Oh dear no,’ said Tom.of servants wanting all kinds of employers, and they never‘Very well, then you may as well leave it to me. Have a glass seem to come together. Here is a gentleman in a public officeof cherry brandy, Tom?’in a position of temporary difficulty, who wants to borrow‘Not a drop! What remarkable chambers these are!’ said five hundred pounds; and in the very next advertisement herePinch ‘there’s everything in ‘em!’is another gentleman who has got exactly that sum to lend.‘Bless your soul, Tom, nothing but a few little bachelor But he’ll never lend it to him, John, you’ll find! Here is a ladycontrivances! the sort of impromptu arrangements that might possessing a moderate independence, who wants to board andhave suggested themselves to Philip Quarll or Robinson lodge with a quiet, cheerful family; and here is a family describingthemselves in those very words, “a quiet, cheerfulCrusoe, that’s all. What do you say? Shall we walk?’‘By all means,’ cried Tom. ‘As soon as you like.’family,” who want exactly such a lady to come and live withAccordingly John Westlock took the French rolls out of his them. But she’ll never go, John! Neither do any of these single565

Martin Chuzzlewitgentlemen who want an airy bedroom, with the occasional walking, that he hadn’t had his pocket picked. But on Johnuse of a parlour, ever appear to come to terms with these Westlock’s inventing a pickpocket for his gratification, andother people who live in a rural situation remarkable for its pointing out a highly respectable stranger as one of that fraternity,he was much delighted.bracing atmosphere, within five minutes’ walk of the RoyalExchange. Even those letters of the alphabet who are always His friend accompanied him to within a short distance ofrunning away from their friends and being entreated at the Camberwell and having put him beyond the possibility oftops of columns to come back, never do come back, if we mistaking the wealthy brass-and-copper founder’s, left himmay judge from the number of times they are asked to do it to make his visit. Arriving before the great bell-handle, Tomand don’t. It really seems,’ said Tom, relinquishing the paper gave it a gentle pull. The porter appeared.with a thoughtful sigh, ‘as if people had the same gratificationin printing their complaints as in making them known ‘Miss Pinch is governess here,’ replied the porter.‘Pray does Miss Pinch live here?’ said Tom.by word of mouth; as if they found it a comfort and consolationto proclaim “I want such and such a thing, and I can’t get he would have said, ‘You are a nice man, you are; where didAt the same time he looked at Tom from head to foot, as ifit, and I don’t expect I ever shall!”’you come from?’John Westlock laughed at the idea, and they went out together.So many years had passed since Tom was last in Lon-home?’‘It’s the same young lady,’ said Tom. ‘It’s quite right. Is she atdon, and he had known so little of it then, that his interest in ‘I don’t know, I’m sure,’ rejoined the porter.all he saw was very great. He was particularly anxious, among ‘Do you think you could have the goodness to ascertain?’other notorious localities, to have those streets pointed out to said Tom. He had quite a delicacy in offering the suggestion,him which were appropriated to the slaughter of countrymen;and was quite disappointed to find, after half-an-hour’s itself to the porter’s mind atfor the possibility of such a step did not appear to presentall.566

Charles DickensThe fact was that the porter in answering the gate-bell had, door.according to usage, rung the house-bell (for it is as well to do It was a good thought; because without providing thethese things in the Baronial style while you are about it), and stranger, in case he should happen to be of a warm temper,that there the functions of his office had ceased. Being hired with a sufficient excuse for knocking him down, it impliedto open and shut the gate, and not to explain himself to strangers,he left this little incident to be developed by the footman of the oppressive burden of rating him in secret as a namelessthis young man’s estimate of his quality, and relieved his breastwith the tags, who, at this juncture, called out from the door and obscure individual.steps:‘Say her brother, if you please,’ said Tom.‘Hollo, there! wot are you up to? This way, young man!’ ‘Mother?’ drawled the footman.‘Oh!’ said Tom, hurrying towards him. ‘I didn’t observe ‘Brother,’ repeated Tom, slightly raising his voice. ‘And ifthat there was anybody else. Pray is Miss Pinch at home?’ you will say, in the first instance, a gentleman, and then say‘She’s in,’ replied the footman. As much as to say to Tom: her brother, I shall be obliged to you, as she does not expect‘But if you think she has anything to do with the proprietorshipof this place you had better abandon that idea.’ her.’me or know I am in London, and I do not wish to startle‘I wish to see her, if you please,’ said Tom.The young man’s interest in Tom’s observations had ceasedThe footman, being a lively young man, happened to have long before this time, but he kindly waited until now; when,his attention caught at that moment by the flight of a pigeon, shutting the door, he withdrew.in which he took so warm an interest that his gaze was rivetted ‘Dear me!’ said Tom. ‘This is very disrespectful and uncivilon the bird until it was quite out of sight. He then invited behaviour. I hope these are new servants here, and that RuthTom to come in, and showed him into a parlour.is very differently treated.’‘Hany neem?’ said the young man, pausing languidly at the His cogitations were interrupted by the sound of voices in567

Martin Chuzzlewitthe adjoining room. They seemed to be engaged in high dispute,or in indignant reprimand of some offender; and gath-‘No, I have not, Tom.’intently, ‘how flushed you are! and you have been crying.’ering strength occasionally, broke out into a perfect whirlwind.It was in one of these gusts, as it appeared to Tom, that tell me! I know better. What is it, dear? I’m not with Mr‘Nonsense,’ said her brother stoutly. ‘That’s a story. Don’tthe footman announced him; for an abrupt and unnatural Pecksniff now. I am going to try and settle myself in London;calm took place, and then a dead silence. He was standing and if you are not happy here (as I very much fear you are not,before the window, wondering what domestic quarrel might for I begin to think you have been deceiving me with thehave caused these sounds, and hoping Ruth had nothing to kindest and most affectionate intention) you shall not remaindo with it, when the door opened, and his sister ran into his here.’arms.Oh! Tom’s blood was rising; mind that! Perhaps the Boar’s‘Why, bless my soul!’ said Tom, looking at her with great Head had something to do with it, but certainly the footmanpride, when they had tenderly embraced each other, ‘how alteredyou are Ruth! I should scarcely have known you, my with it. Tom could bear a good deal himself, but he was proudhad. So had the sight of his pretty sister—a great deal to dolove, if I had seen you anywhere else, I declare! You are so of her, and pride is a sensitive thing. He began to think, ‘thereimproved,’ said Tom, with inexpressible delight; ‘you are so are more Pecksniffs than one, perhaps,’ and by all the pinswomanly; you are so—positively, you know, you are so handsome!’a most unusual tingle all at once!and needles that run up and down in angry veins, Tom was in‘If you think so Tom—’‘We will talk about it, Tom,’ said Ruth, giving him another‘Oh, but everybody must think so, you know,’ said Tom, kiss to pacify him. ‘I am afraid I cannot stay here.’gently smoothing down her hair. ‘It’s matter of fact; not opinion.But what’s the matter?’ said Tom, looking at her more Heyday! You are not an object of charity! Upon my‘Cannot!’ replied Tom. ‘Why then, you shall not, my love.word!’568

Charles DickensTom was stopped in these exclamations by the footman, down, if you please,’ addressing Tom.who brought a message from his master, importing that he Tom sat down, looking from one face to another, in mutewished to speak with him before he went, and with Miss surprise.Pinch also.‘Remain here, if you please, Miss Pinch,’ pursued the gentleman,looking slightly over his shoulder.‘Show the way,’ said Tom. ‘I’ll wait upon him at once.’Accordingly they entered the adjoining room from which Tom interrupted him here, by rising to place a chair for histhe noise of altercation had proceeded; and there they found a sister. Having done which he sat down again.middle-aged gentleman, with a pompous voice and manner, ‘I am glad you chance to have called to see your sister today,sir,’ resumed the brass-and-copper founder. ‘For althoughand a middle-aged lady, with what may be termed an excisableface, or one in which starch and vinegar were decidedly I do not approve, as a principle, of any young person engagedemployed. There was likewise present that eldest pupil of Miss in my family in the capacity of a governess, receiving visitors,Pinch, whom Mrs Todgers, on a previous occasion, had called it happens in this case to be well timed. I am sorry to informa syrup, and who was now weeping and sobbing spitefully. you that we are not at all satisfied with your sister.’‘My brother, sir,’ said Ruth Pinch, timidly presenting Tom. ‘We are very much DISsatisfied with her,’ observed the lady.‘Oh!’ cried the gentleman, surveying Tom attentively. ‘You ‘I’d never say another lesson to Miss Pinch if I was to bereally are Miss Pinch’s brother, I presume? You will excuse my beat to death for it!’ sobbed the pupil.asking. I don’t observe any resemblance.’‘Sophia!’ cried her father. ‘Hold your tongue!’‘Miss Pinch has a brother, I know,’ observed the lady. ‘Will you allow me to inquire what your ground of dissatisfactionis?’ asked Tom.‘Miss Pinch is always talking about her brother, when sheought to be engaged upon my education,’ sobbed the pupil. ‘Yes,’ said the gentleman, ‘I will. I don’t recognize it as a‘Sophia! Hold your tongue!’ observed the gentleman. ‘Sit right; but I will. Your sister has not the slightest innate power569

Martin Chuzzlewitof commanding respect. It has been a constant source of differencebetween us. Although she has been in this family for only this very morning, addressing Miss Pinch herself as aand politely distant to her inferiors in society, I find her,some time, and although the young lady who is now present beggar!’has almost, as it were, grown up under her tuition, that young ‘A beggarly thing,’ observed the lady, in correction.lady has no respect for her. Miss Pinch has been perfectly ‘Which is worse,’ said the gentleman, triumphantly; ‘which isunable to command my daughter’s respect, or to win my worse. A beggarly thing. A low, coarse, despicable expression!’daughter’s confidence. Now,’ said the gentleman, allowing ‘Most despicable,’ cried Tom. ‘I am glad to find that therethe palm of his hand to fall gravely down upon the table: ‘I is a just appreciation of it here.’maintain that there is something radically wrong in that! You, ‘So just, sir,’ said the gentleman, lowering his voice to beas her brother, may be disposed to deny it—’the more impressive. ‘So just, that, but for my knowing Miss‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ said Tom. ‘I am not at all disposed Pinch to be an unprotected young person, an orphan, andto deny it. I am sure that there is something radically wrong; without friends, I would, as I assured Miss Pinch, upon myradically monstrous, in that.’veracity and personal character, a few minutes ago, I would‘Good Heavens!’ cried the gentleman, looking round the have severed the connection between us at that moment androom with dignity, ‘what do I find to be the case! what from that time.’results obtrude themselves upon me as flowing from this ‘Bless my soul, sir!’ cried Tom, rising from his seat; for heweakness of character on the part of Miss Pinch! What are was now unable to contain himself any longer; ‘don’t allowmy feelings as a father, when, after my desire (repeatedly such considerations as those to influence you, pray. They don’texpressed to Miss Pinch, as I think she will not venture to exist, sir. She is not unprotected. She is ready to depart thisdeny) that my daughter should be choice in her expressions, instant. Ruth, my dear, get your bonnet on!’genteel in her deportment, as becomes her station in life, ‘Oh, a pretty family!’ cried the lady. ‘Oh, he’s her brother!570

Charles DickensThere’s no doubt about that!’yours, and see what happens then.’‘As little doubt, madam,’ said Tom, ‘as that the young lady ‘Miss Pinch is getting her bonnet on, I trust, my dear?’ saidyonder is the child of your teaching, and not my sister’s. Ruth, the gentleman.my dear, get your bonnet on!’‘I trust she is,’ said Tom, forestalling the reply. ‘I have no‘When you say, young man,’ interposed the brass-and-copperfounder, haughtily, ‘with that impertinence which is natu-made your statement to me, sir; you required to see me for thatdoubt she is. In the meantime I address myself to you, sir. Youral to you, and which I therefore do not condescend to notice purpose; and I have a right to answer it. I am not loud or turbulent,’said Tom, which was quite true, ‘though I can scarcelyfurther, that the young lady, my eldest daughter, has been educatedby any one but Miss Pinch, you—I needn’t proceed. You say as much for you, in your manner of addressing yourself tocomprehend me fully. I have no doubt you are used to it.’ me. And I wish, on my sister’s behalf, to state the simple truth.’‘Sir!’ cried Tom, after regarding him in silence for some ‘You may state anything you like, young man,’ returned thelittle time. ‘If you do not understand what I mean, I will tell gentleman, affecting to yawn. ‘My dear, Miss Pinch’s money.’you. If you do understand what I mean, I beg you not to ‘When you tell me,’ resumed Tom, who was not the lessrepeat that mode of expressing yourself in answer to it. My indignant for keeping himself quiet, ‘that my sister has nomeaning is, that no man can expect his children to respect innate power of commanding the respect of your children, Iwhat he degrades.’must tell you it is not so; and that she has. She is as well bred,‘Ha, ha, ha!’ laughed the gentleman. ‘Cant! cant! The commoncant!’spect, as any hirer of a governess you know. But when youas well taught, as well qualified by nature to command re-‘The common story, sir!’ said Tom; ‘the story of a commonmind. Your governess cannot win the confidence and your house, how can you suppose, if you have the gift ofplace her at a disadvantage in reference to every servant inrespect of your children, forsooth! Let her begin by winning common sense, that she is not in a tenfold worse position in571

Martin Chuzzlewitreference to your daughters?’porter and footman make the same delicate announcement‘Pretty well! Upon my word,’ exclaimed the gentleman, to all comers? As to your suspicion and distrust of her; even‘this is pretty well!’of her word; if she is not above their reach, you have no right‘It is very ill, sir,’ said Tom. ‘It is very bad and mean, and wrong to employ her.’and cruel. Respect! I believe young people are quick enough to ‘No right!’ cried the brass-and-copper founder.observe and imitate; and why or how should they respect whom ‘Distinctly not,’ Tom answered. ‘If you imagine that theno one else respects, and everybody slights? And very partial they payment of an annual sum of money gives it to you, youmust grow—oh, very partial!—to their studies, when they see to immensely exaggerate its power and value. Your money is thewhat a pass proficiency in those same tasks has brought their governess!Respect! Put anything the most deserving of respect before in that to half a second on the clock, and yet be Bankrupt. Ileast part of your bargain in such a case. You may be punctualyour daughters in the light in which you place her, and you will have nothing more to say,’ said Tom, much flushed and flustered,now that it was over, ‘except to crave permission tobring it down as low, no matter what it is!’‘You speak with extreme impertinence, young man,’ observedthe gentleman.Not waiting to obtain it, Tom walked out.stand in your garden until my sister is ready.’‘I speak without passion, but with extreme indignation and Before he had well begun to cool, his sister joined him. Shecontempt for such a course of treatment, and for all who was crying; and Tom could not bear that any one about thepractice it,’ said Tom. ‘Why, how can you, as an honest gentleman,profess displeasure or surprise at your daughter telling ‘They will think you are sorry to go,’ said Tom. ‘You arehouse should see her doing that.my sister she is something beggarly and humble, when you not sorry to go?’are for ever telling her the same thing yourself in fifty plain, ‘No, Tom, no. I have been anxious to go for a very longoutspeaking ways, though not in words; and when your very time.’572

Charles Dickens‘Very well, then! Don’t cry!’ said Tom.He didn’t tell her that he had been going to stay with his‘I am so sorry for you, dear,’ sobbed Tom’s sister.friend John, and could on no account think of billeting two‘But you ought to be glad on my account,’ said Tom. ‘I inmates upon him, of whom one was a young lady; for heshall be twice as happy with you for a companion. Hold up knew that would make her uncomfortable, and would causeyour head. There! Now we go out as we ought. Not blustering,you know, but firm and confident in ourselves.’ ther did he like to leave her anywhere while he called on John,her to regard herself as being an inconvenience to him. Nei-The idea of Tom and his sister blustering, under any circumstances,was a splendid absurdity. But Tom was very far delicate of seeming to encroach upon the generous and hospi-and told him of this change in his arrangements; for he wasfrom feeling it to be so, in his excitement; and passed out at table nature of his friend. Therefore he said again, ‘We mustthe gate with such severe determination written in his face have some lodgings, of course;’ and said it as stoutly as if hethat the porter hardly knew him again.had been a perfect Directory and Guide-Book to all the lodgingsin London.It was not until they had walked some short distance, andTom found himself getting cooler and more collected, that ‘Where shall we go and look for ‘em?’ said Tom. ‘What dohe was quite restored to himself by an inquiry from his sister, you think?’who said in her pleasant little voice:Tom’s sister was not much wiser on such a topic than he‘Where are we going, Tom?’was. So she squeezed her little purse into his coat-pocket, and‘Dear me!’ said Tom, stopping, ‘I don’t know.’folding the little hand with which she did so on the other‘Don’t you—don’t you live anywhere, dear?’ asked Tom’s little hand with which she clasped his arm, said nothing.sister looking wistfully in his face.‘It ought to be a cheap neighbourhood,’ said Tom, ‘and not‘No,’ said Tom. ‘Not at present. Not exactly. I only arrived too far from London. Let me see. Should you think Islingtonthis morning. We must have some lodgings.’a good place?’573

Martin Chuzzlewit‘I should think it was an excellent place, Tom.’So they walked off again, quite as happily as if they had just‘It used to be called Merry Islington, once upon a time,’ stepped out of a snug little house of their own, to look forsaid Tom. ‘Perhaps it’s merry now; if so, it’s all the better. lodgings on account of somebody else. Tom’s simplicity wasEh?’unabated, Heaven knows; but now that he had somebody to‘If it’s not too dear,’ said Tom’s sister.rely upon him, he was stimulated to rely a little more upon‘Of course, if it’s not too dear,’ assented Tom. ‘Well, where himself, and was, in his own opinion, quite a desperate fellow.IS Islington? We can’t do better than go there, I should think.Let’s go.’After roaming up and down for hours, looking at someTom’s sister would have gone anywhere with him; so they scores of lodgings, they began to find it rather fatiguing, especiallyas they saw none which were at all adapted to theirwalked off, arm in arm, as comfortably as possible. Finding,presently, that Islington was not in that neighbourhood, Tom purpose. At length, however, in a singular little old-fashionedmade inquiries respecting a public conveyance thither; which house, up a blind street, they discovered two small bedroomsthey soon obtained. As they rode along they were very full of and a triangular parlour, which promised to suit them wellconversation indeed, Tom relating what had happened to him, enough. Their desiring to take possession immediately was aand Tom’s sister relating what had happened to her, and both suspicious circumstance, but even this was surmounted byfinding a great deal more to say than time to say it in; for they the payment of their first week’s rent, and a reference to Johnhad only just begun to talk, in comparison with what they Westlock, Esquire, Furnival’s Inn, High Holborn.had to tell each other, when they reached their journey’s end. Ah! It was a goodly sight, when this important point was‘Now,’ said Tom, ‘we must first look out for some very settled, to behold Tom and his sister trotting round to theunpretending streets, and then look out for bills in the windows.’dreadful delight in the unaccustomed cares ofbaker’s, and the butcher’s, and the grocer’s, with a kind ofhousekeeping;574

Charles Dickenstaking secret counsel together as they gave their small orders, I have been made meat pies of, or some such horrible thing.’and distracted by the least suggestion on the part of the shopkeeper!When they got back to the triangular parlour, andCHAPTER THIRTY-Tom’s sister, bustling to and fro, busy about a thousand pleasantnothings, stopped every now and then to give old Tom aSEVENkiss or smile upon him, Tom rubbed his hands as if all Islington TOM PINCH, GOING ASTRAY, FINDSwere his.THAT HE IS NOT THE ONLY PERSON INIt was late in the afternoon now, though, and high time forTHAT PREDICAMENT.Tom to keep his appointment. So, after agreeing with his HE RETALIATES UPON A FALLEN FOEsister that in consideration of not having dined, they wouldventure on the extravagance of chops for supper at nine, heTOM’S EVIL GENIUS did not lead him into the dens of any ofwalked out again to narrate these marvellous occurrences to those preparers of cannibalic pastry, who are represented inJohn.many standard country legends as doing a lively retail businessin the Metropolis; nor did it mark him out as the prey of‘I am quite a family man all at once,’ thought Tom. ‘If I canonly get something to do, how comfortable Ruth and I may ring-droppers, pea and thimble-riggers, duffers, touters, orbe! Ah, that if! But it’s of no use to despond. I can but do any of those bloodless sharpers, who are, perhaps, a little betterknown to the Police. He fell into conversation with nothat, when I have tried everything and failed; and even then itwon’t serve me much. Upon my word,’ thought Tom, quickeninghis pace, ‘I don’t know what John will think has be-happened to be another gentleman who swore he had moregentleman who took him into a public-house, where therecome of me. He’ll begin to be afraid I have strayed into one money than any gentleman, and very soon proved he hadof those streets where the countrymen are murdered; and that more money than one gentleman by taking his away from575

Martin Chuzzlewithim; neither did he fall into any other of the numerous mantrapswhich are set up without notice, in the public grounds from all mankind in that pillar like some old hermit was thecurred to him that the lonely creature who held himself aloofof this city. But he lost his way. He very soon did that; and in very man of whom to ask his way. Cold, he might be; littletrying to find it again he lost it more and more.sympathy he had, perhaps, with human passion—the columnseemed too tall for that; but if Truth didn’t live in theNow, Tom, in his guileless distrust of London, thoughthimself very knowing in coming to the determination that he base of the Monument, notwithstanding Pope’s couplet aboutwould not ask to be directed to Furnival’s Inn, if he could help the outside of it, where in London (thought Tom) was sheit; unless, indeed, he should happen to find himself near the likely to be found!Mint, or the Bank of England; in which case he would step in, Coming close below the pillar, it was a great encouragementto Tom to find that the Man in the Monument hadand ask a civil question or two, confiding in the perfect respectabilityof the concern. So on he went, looking up all the streets simple tastes; that stony and artificial as his residence was, hehe came near, and going up half of them; and thus, by dint of still preserved some rustic recollections; that he liked plants,not being true to Goswell Street, and filing off into hung up bird-cages, was not wholly cut off from fresh groundsel,and kept young trees in tubs. The Man in the Monu-Aldermanbury, and bewildering himself in Barbican, and beingconstant to the wrong point of the compass in London ment, himself, was sitting outside the door—his own door:Wall, and then getting himself crosswise into Thames Street, the Monument-door: what a grand idea!—and was actuallyby an instinct that would have been marvellous if he had had yawning, as if there were no Monument to stop his mouth,the least desire or reason to go there, he found himself, at last, and give him a perpetual interest in his own existence.hard by the Monument.Tom was advancing towards this remarkable creature, toThe Man in the Monument was quite as mysterious a beingto Tom as the Man in the Moon. It immediately oc-see the Monument. They were a gentleman and a lady;inquire the way to Furnival’s Inn, when two people came toand576

Charles Dickensthe gentleman said, ‘How much a-piece?’‘I have rather wandered from my way,’ said Tom. ‘I—’The Man in the Monument replied, ‘A Tanner.’‘I hope you have run away,’ said Charity. ‘It would be quiteIt seemed a low expression, compared with the Monument. spirited and proper if you had, when my Papa so far forgetsThe gentleman put a shilling into his hand, and the Man in the himself.’Monument opened a dark little door. When the gentleman and ‘I have left him,’ returned Tom. ‘But it was perfectly understoodon both sides. It was not done clandestinely.’lady had passed out of view, he shut it again, and came slowly backto his chair.‘Is he married?’ asked Cherry, with a spasmodic shake ofHe sat down and laughed.her chin.‘They don’t know what a many steps there is!’ he said. ‘It’s ‘No, not yet,’ said Tom, colouring; ‘to tell you the truth, Iworth twice the money to stop here. Oh, my eye!’don’t think he is likely to be, if—if Miss Graham is the objectof his passion.’The Man in the Monument was a Cynic; a worldly man!Tom couldn’t ask his way of him. He was prepared to put no ‘Tcha, Mr Pinch!’ cried Charity, with sharp impatience,confidence in anything he said.‘you’re very easily deceived. You don’t know the arts of which‘My gracious!’ cried a well-known voice behind Mr Pinch. such a creature is capable. Oh! it’s a wicked world.’‘Why, to be sure it is!’‘You are not married?’ Tom hinted, to divert the conversation.At the same time he was poked in the back by a parasol.Turning round to inquire into this salute, he beheld the eldest ‘N—no!’ said Cherry, tracing out one particular paving-stonedaughter of his late patron.in Monument Yard with the end of her parasol. ‘I—but really‘Miss Pecksniff!’ said Tom.it’s quite impossible to explain. Won’t you walk in?’‘Why, my goodness, Mr Pinch!’ cried Cherry. ‘What are ‘You live here, then?’ said Tomyou doing here?’‘Yes,’ returned Miss Pecksniff, pointing with her parasol to577

Martin ChuzzlewitTodgers’s; ‘I reside with this lady, at present.’‘A gentleman who is a friend of mine, or at least who is notThe great stress on the two last words suggested to Tom exactly a friend so much as a sort of acquaintance—Oh uponthat he was expected to say something in reference to them. my word, I hardly know what I say, Mr Pinch; you mustn’tSo he said.suppose there is any engagement between us; or at least if there‘Only at present! Are you going home again soon?’ is, that it is at all a settled thing as yet—is going to Furnival’s‘No, Mr Pinch,’ returned Charity. ‘No, thank you. No! A Inn immediately, I believe upon a little business, and I am suremother-in-law who is younger than—I mean to say, who is he would be very glad to accompany you, so as to prevent youras nearly as possible about the same age as one’s self, would going wrong again. You had better walk in. You will very likelynot quite suit my spirit. Not quite!’ said Cherry, with a spitefulshiver.head, and anything but an agreeable smile.find my sister Merry here,’ she said with a curious toss of her‘I thought from your saying “at present”’—Tom observed. ‘Then, I think, I’ll endeavour to find my way alone,’ said‘Really, upon my word! I had no idea you would press me so Tom, ‘for I fear she would not be very glad to see me. Thatvery closely on the subject, Mr Pinch,’ said Charity, blushing, ‘or I unfortunate occurrence, in relation to which you and I hadshould not have been so foolish as to allude to—oh really!—won’t some amicable words together, in private, is not likely to haveyou walk in?’impressed her with any friendly feeling towards me. ThoughTom mentioned, to excuse himself, that he had an appointmentin Furnival’s Inn, and that coming from Islington he ‘She has never heard of that, you may depend,’ said Cherry,it really was not my fault.’had taken a few wrong turnings, and arrived at the Monumentinstead. Miss Pecksniff simpered very much when he ‘I am far from sure that she would bear you any mighty illgathering up the corners of her mouth, and nodding at Tom.asked her if she knew the way to Furnival’s Inn, and at length will for it, if she had.’found courage to reply.‘You don’t say so?’ cried Tom, who was really concerned by578

Charles Dickensthis insinuation.her mortification, she grasped with eager delight at any opportunityof reproaching her sister with his presence in her far‘I say nothing,’ said Charity. ‘If I had not already knownwhat shocking things treachery and deceit are in themselves, deeper misery; for he knew nothing of it, and only picturedMr Pinch, I might perhaps have learnt it from the success that sister as the same giddy, careless, trivial creature she alwayshad been, with the same slight estimation of himselfthey meet with—from the success they meet with.’ Here shesmiled as before. ‘But I don’t say anything. On the contrary, I which she had never been at the least pains to conceal. Inshould scorn it. You had better walk in!’short, he had merely a confused impression that Miss PecksniffThere was something hidden here, which piqued Tom’s interestand troubled his tender heart. When, in a moment’s ir-accompanied her as she desired.was not quite sisterly or kind; and being curious to set it right,resolution, he looked at Charity, he could not but observe a The house-door being opened, she went in before Tom,struggle in her face between a sense of triumph and a sense of requesting him to follow her; and led the way to the parlourshame; nor could he but remark how, meeting even his eyes, door.which she cared so little for, she turned away her own, for all ‘Oh, Merry!’ she said, looking in, ‘I am so glad you havethe splenetic defiance in her manner.not gone home. Who do you think I have met in the street,An uneasy thought entered Tom’s head; a shadowy misgivingthat the altered relations between himself and Pecksniff prised, I am sure!’and brought to see you! Mr Pinch! There. Now you are sur-were somehow to involve an altered knowledge on his part of Not more surprised than Tom was, when he looked uponother people, and were to give him an insight into much of her. Not so much. Not half so much.which he had had no previous suspicion. And yet he put no ‘Mr Pinch has left Papa, my dear,’ said Cherry, ‘and hisdefinite construction upon Charity’s proceedings. He certainly prospects are quite flourishing. I have promised that Augustus,had no idea that as he had been the audience and spectator of who is going that way, shall escort him to the place he wants.579

Martin ChuzzlewitAugustus, my child, where are you?’any time, I think.’With these words Miss Pecksniff screamed her way out of Her bonnet lay beside her on the sofa, and she was verythe parlour, calling on Augustus Moddle to appear; and left busy with the ribbons as she spoke. Much too busy to beTom Pinch alone with her sister.conscious of the work her fingers did.If she had always been his kindest friend; if she had treated ‘We never quarrelled,’ said Tom.—Tom was right in that,him through all his servitude with such consideration as was for one person can no more quarrel without an adversary,never yet received by struggling man; if she had lightened than one person can play at chess, or fight a duel. ‘I hopedevery moment of those many years, and had ever spared and you would be glad to shake hands with an old friend. Don’tnever wounded him; his honest heart could not have swelled let us rake up bygones,’ said Tom. ‘If I ever offended you,before her with a deeper pity, or a purer freedom from all forgive me.’base remembrance than it did then.She looked at him for a moment; dropped her bonnet from her‘My gracious me! You are really the last person in the world hands; spread them before her altered face, and burst into tears.I should have thought of seeing, I am sure!’‘Oh, Mr Pinch!’ she said, ‘although I never used you well, ITom was sorry to hear her speaking in her old manner. He did believe your nature was forgiving. I did not think you couldhad not expected that. Yet he did not feel it a contradiction be cruel.’that he should be sorry to see her so unlike her old self, and She spoke as little like her old self now, for certain, as Tomsorry at the same time to hear her speaking in her old manner. could possibly have wished. But she seemed to be appealingThe two things seemed quite natural.to him reproachfully, and he did not understand her.‘I wonder you find any gratification in coming to see me. I ‘I seldom showed it—never—I know that. But I had thatcan’t think what put it in your head. I never had much in belief in you, that if I had been asked to name the person inseeing you. There was no love lost between us, Mr Pinch, at the world least likely to retort upon me, I would have named580

Charles Dickensyou, confidently.’‘And will be again,’ said Tom.‘Would have named me!’ Tom repeated.‘No, never more. No, never, never more. If you should talk‘Yes,’ she said with energy, ‘and I have often thought so.’ with old Mr Chuzzlewit, at any time,’ she added, lookingAfter a moment’s reflection, Tom sat himself upon a chair hurriedly into his face—’I sometimes thought he liked you,beside her.but suppressed it—will you promise me to tell him that you‘Do you believe,’ said Tom, ‘oh, can you think, that what I saw me here, and that I said I bore in mind the time we talkedsaid just now, I said with any but the true and plain intention together in the churchyard?’which my words professed? I mean it, in the spirit and the Tom promised that he would.letter. If I ever offended you, forgive me; I may have done so, ‘Many times since then, when I have wished I had beenmany times. You never injured or offended me. How, then, carried there before that day, I have recalled his words. I wishcould I possibly retort, if even I were stern and bad enough to that he should know how true they were, although the leastwish to do it!’acknowledgment to that effect has never passed my lips andAfter a little while she thanked him, through her tears and never will.’sobs, and told him she had never been at once so sorry and so Tom promised this, conditionally too. He did not tell hercomforted, since she left home. Still she wept bitterly; and it how improbable it was that he and the old man would everwas the greater pain to Tom to see her weeping, from her meet again, because he thought it might disturb her more.standing in especial need, just then, of sympathy and tenderness.Pinch,’ said Mercy, ‘tell him that I sent the message, not for‘If he should ever know this, through your means, dear Mr‘Come, come!’ said Tom, ‘you used to be as cheerful as the myself, but that he might be more forbearing and more patient,and more trustful to some other person, in some otherday was long.’‘Ah! used!’ she cried, in such a tone as rent Tom’s heart. time of need. Tell him that if he could know how my heart581

Martin Chuzzlewittrembled in the balance that day, and what a very little would had tried to kneel down at his feet, and bless him.have turned the scale, his own would bleed with pity for me.’ He found that he was not alone in the room when she had‘Yes, yes,’ said Tom, ‘I will.’left it. Mrs Todgers was there, shaking her head. Tom had‘When I appeared to him the most unworthy of his help, I never seen Mrs Todgers, it is needless to say, but he had awas—I know I was, for I have often, often, thought about it perception of her being the lady of the house; and he sawsince—the most inclined to yield to what he showed me. some genuine compassion in her eyes, that won his good opinion.Oh! if he had relented but a little more; if he had thrownhimself in my way for but one other quarter of an hour; if he ‘Ah, sir! You are an old friend, I see,’ said Mrs Todgers.had extended his compassion for a vain, unthinking, miserablegirl, in but the least degree; he might, and I believe he ‘And yet,’ quoth Mrs Todgers, shutting the door softly, ‘she‘Yes,’ said Tom.would, have saved her! Tell him that I don’t blame him, but hasn’t told you what her troubles are, I’m certain.’am grateful for the effort that he made; but ask him for the Tom was struck by these words, for they were quite true.love of God, and youth, and in merciful consideration for ‘Indeed,’ he said, ‘she has not.’the struggle which an ill-advised and unwakened nature makes ‘And never would,’ said Mrs Todgers, ‘if you saw her daily.to hide the strength it thinks its weakness—ask him never, She never makes the least complaint to me, or utters a singlenever, to forget this, when he deals with one again!’ word of explanation or reproach. But I know,’ said MrsAlthough Tom did not hold the clue to her full meaning, Todgers, drawing in her breath, ‘I know!’he could guess it pretty nearly. Touched to the quick, he took Tom nodded sorrowfully, ‘So do I.’her hand and said, or meant to say, some words of consolation.She felt and understood them, whether they were spokerchieffrom the flat reticule, ‘that nobody can tell one half‘I fully believe,’ said Mrs Todgers, taking her pocket-handkenor no. He was not quite certain, afterwards, but that she of what that poor young creature has to undergo. But though582

Charles Dickensshe comes here, constantly, to ease her poor full heart withouthis knowing it; and saying, “Mrs Todgers, I am very low her from among the sordid strivings of her life; that she mightsaw that she was poor, and that this good had sprung up into-day; I think that I shall soon be dead,” sits crying in my have been a very Venus in a minute more, if Miss Pecksniffroom until the fit is past; I know no more from her. And, I had not entered with her friend.believe,’ said Mrs Todgers, putting back her handkerchief ‘Mr Thomas Pinch!’ said Charity, performing the ceremonyagain, ‘that she considers me a good friend too.’of introduction with evident pride. ‘Mr Moddle. Where’sMrs Todgers might have said her best friend. Commercial my sister?’gentlemen and gravy had tried Mrs Todgers’s temper; the main ‘Gone, Miss Pecksniff,’ Mrs Todgers answered. ‘She hadchance—it was such a very small one in her case, that she appointed to be home.’might have been excused for looking sharp after it, lest it ‘Ah!’ said Charity, looking at Tom. ‘Oh, dear me!’should entirely vanish from her sight—had taken a firm hold ‘She’s greatly altered since she’s been Anoth—since she’s beenon Mrs Todgers’s attention. But in some odd nook in Mrs married, Mrs Todgers!’ observed Moddle.Todgers’s breast, up a great many steps, and in a corner easy to ‘My dear Augustus!’ said Miss Pecksniff, in a low voice. ‘Ibe overlooked, there was a secret door, with ‘Woman’ written verily believe you have said that fifty thousand times, in myon the spring, which, at a touch from Mercy’s hand, had flown hearing. What a Prose you are!’wide open, and admitted her for shelter.This was succeeded by some trifling love passages, whichWhen boarding-house accounts are balanced with all other appeared to originate with, if not to be wholly carried on byledgers, and the books of the Recording Angel are made up Miss Pecksniff. At any rate, Mr Moddle was much slower infor ever, perhaps there may be seen an entry to thy credit, lean his responses than is customary with young lovers, and exhibiteda lowness of spirits which was quite oppressive.Mrs Todgers, which shall make thee beautiful!She was growing beautiful so rapidly in Tom’s eyes; for he He did not improve at all when Tom and he were in the583

Martin Chuzzlewitstreets, but sighed so dismally that it was dreadful to hear box is here. Get your boots off instantly, and sit down!’him. As a means of cheering him up, Tom told him that he ‘I am sorry to say I can’t stay, John,’ replied Tom Pinch,wished him joy.who was breathless with the haste he had made in running up‘Joy!’ cried Moddle. ‘Ha, ha!’the stairs.‘What an extraordinary young man!’ thought Tom. ‘Can’t stay!’‘The Scorner has not set his seal upon you. you care what ‘If you’ll go on with your dinner,’ said Tom, ‘I’ll tell youbecomes of you?’ said Moddle.my reason the while. I mustn’t eat myself, or I shall have noTom admitted that it was a subject in which he certainly appetite for the chops.’felt some interest.‘There are no chops here, my food fellow.’‘I don’t,’ said Mr Moddle. ‘The Elements may have me ‘No. But there are at Islington,’ said Tom.when they please. I’m ready.’John Westlock was perfectly confounded by this reply, andTom inferred from these, and other expressions of the same vowed he would not touch a morsel until Tom had explainednature, that he was jealous. Therefore he allowed him to take his himself fully. So Tom sat down, and told him all; to whichown course; which was such a gloomy one, that he felt a load he listened with the greatest interest.removed from his mind when they parted company at the gate He knew Tom too well, and respected his delicacy too much,of Furnival’s Inn.to ask him why he had taken these measures without communicatingwith him first. He quite concurred in the expedi-It was now a couple of hours past John Westlock’s dinnertime;and he was walking up and down the room, quite anxiousfor Tom’s safety. The table was spread; the wine was care-so little of the place in which he had left her, and goodencyof Tom’s immediately returning to his sister, as he knewfully decanted; and the dinner smelt delicious.humouredly proposed to ride back with him in a cab, in which‘Why, Tom, old boy, where on earth have you been? Your he might convey his box. Tom’s proposition that he should584

Charles Dickenssup with them that night, he flatly rejected, but made an Westlock, sitting in the cab, and, catching a glimpse of aappointment with him for the morrow. ‘And now Tom,’ he blooming little busy creature darting out to kiss Tom and tosaid, as they rode along, ‘I have a question to ask you to which help him with his box, would not have had the least objectionto change places with him.I expect a manly and straightforward answer. Do you wantany money? I am pretty sure you do.’Well! she was a cheerful little thing; and had a quaint, bright‘I don’t indeed,’ said Tom.quietness about her that was infinitely pleasant. Surely she‘I believe you are deceiving me.’was the best sauce for chops ever invented. The potatoes seemed‘No. With many thanks to you, I am quite in earnest,’ Tom to take a pleasure in sending up their grateful steam beforereplied. ‘My sister has some money, and so have I. If I had her; the froth upon the pint of porter pouted to attract hernothing else, John, I have a five-pound note, which that good notice. But it was all in vain. She saw nothing but Tom. Tomcreature, Mrs Lupin, of the Dragon, handed up to me outside was the first and last thing in the world.the coach, in a letter begging me to borrow it; and then drove As she sat opposite to Tom at supper, fingering one of Tom’soff as hard as she could go.’pet tunes upon the table-cloth, and smiling in his face, he had‘And a blessing on every dimple in her handsome face, say never been so happy in his life.I!’ cried John, ‘though why you should give her the preferenceover me, I don’t know. Never mind. I bide my time,Tom.’‘And I hope you’ll continue to bide it,’ returned Tom, gayly.‘For I owe you more, already, in a hundred other ways, than Ican ever hope to pay.’They parted at the door of Tom’s new residence. John585

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHTSECRET SERVICEIN WALKING FROM the city with his sentimental friend, TomPinch had looked into the face, and brushed against the threadbaresleeve, of Mr Nadgett, man of mystery to the Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Assurance Company.Mr Nadgett naturally passed away from Tom’s remembranceas he passed out of his view; for he didn’t know him, and hadnever heard his name.As there are a vast number of people in the huge metropolisof England who rise up every morning not knowing wheretheir heads will rest at night, so there are a multitude whoshooting arrows over houses as their daily business, never knowon whom they fall. Mr Nadgett might have passed Tom Pinchten thousand times; might even have been quite familiar withhis face, his name, pursuits, and character; yet never once haveMartin Chuzzlewit586dreamed that Tom had any interest in any act or mystery ofhis. Tom might have done the like by him of course. But thesame private man out of all the men alive, was in the mind ofeach at the same moment; was prominently connected thoughin a different manner, with the day’s adventures of both; andformed, when they passed each other in the street, the oneabsorbing topic of their thoughts.Why Tom had Jonas Chuzzlewit in his mind requires noexplanation. Why Mr Nadgett should have had JonasChuzzlewit in his, is quite another thing.But, somehow or other, that amiable and worthy orphanhad become a part of the mystery of Mr Nadgett’s existence.Mr Nadgett took an interest in his lightest proceedings; andit never flagged or wavered. He watched him in and out ofthe Assurance Office, where he was now formally installed asa Director; he dogged his footsteps in the streets; he stoodlistening when he talked; he sat in coffee-rooms entering hisname in the great pocket-book, over and over again; he wroteletters to himself about him constantly; and, when he foundthem in his pocket, put them in the fire, with such distrustand caution that he would bend down to watch the crumpled

Charles Dickenstinder while it floated upwards, as if his mind misgave him, upon the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral taking note of what hethat the mystery it had contained might come out at the chimney-pot.being engaged in such an occupation.did, or slowly winding a great net about his feet, as of Nadgett’sAnd yet all this was quite a secret. Mr Nadgett kept it to Mr Nadgett made a mysterious change about this time inhimself, and kept it close. Jonas had no more idea that Mr his mysterious life: for whereas he had, until now, been firstNadgett’s eyes were fixed on him, than he had that he was seen every morning coming down Cornhill, so exactly likeliving under the daily inspection and report of a whole order the Nadgett of the day before as to occasion a popular beliefof Jesuits. Indeed Mr Nadgett’s eyes were seldom fixed on that he never went to bed or took his clothes off, he was nowany other objects than the ground, the clock, or the fire; but first seen in Holborn, coming out of Kingsgate Street; and itevery button on his coat might have been an eye, he saw so was soon discovered that he actually went every morning to amuch.barber’s shop in that street to get shaved; and that the barber’sThe secret manner of the man disarmed suspicion in this name was Sweedlepipe. He seemed to make appointmentswise; suggesting, not that he was watching any one, but that with the man who never came, to meet him at this barber’s;he thought some other man was watching him. He went about for he would frequently take long spells of waiting in theso stealthily, and kept himself so wrapped up in himself, that shop, and would ask for pen and ink, and pull out his pocketbook,and be very busy over it for an hour at a time. Mrsthe whole object of his life appeared to be, to avoid noticeand preserve his own mystery. Jonas sometimes saw him in Gamp and Mr Sweedlepipe had many deep discoursings onthe street, hovering in the outer office, waiting at the door for the subject of this mysterious customer; but they usually agreedthe man who never came, or slinking off with his immovable that he had speculated too much and was keeping out of theface and drooping head, and the one beaver glove dangling way.before him; but he would as soon have thought of the cross He must have appointed the man who never kept his word,587

Martin Chuzzlewitto meet him at another new place too; for one day he was feared he must put himself under the doctor’s hands. He wasfound, for the first time, by the waiter at the Mourning Coach- delivered over to Jobling upon this representation; and thoughHorse, the House-of-call for Undertakers, down in the City Jobling could not find out where his liver was wrong, wrongthere, making figures with a pipe-stem in the sawdust of a Mr Nadgett said it was; observing that it was his own liver,clean spittoon; and declining to call for anything, on the and he hoped he ought to know. Accordingly, he became Mrground of expecting a gentleman presently. As the gentleman Jobling’s patient; and detailing his symptoms in his slow andwas not honourable enough to keep his engagement, he came secret way, was in and out of that gentleman’s room a dozenagain next day, with his pocket-book in such a state of distentionthat he was regarded in the bar as a man of large prop-As he pursued all these occupations at once; and all steadily;times a day.erty. After that, he repeated his visits every day, and had so and all secretly; and never slackened in his watchfulness ofmuch writing to do, that he made nothing of emptying a everything that Mr Jonas said and did, and left unsaid andcapacious leaden inkstand in two sittings. Although he never undone; it is not improbable that they were, secretly, essentialtalked much, still, by being there among the regular customers,he made their acquaintance. and in course of time became It was on the morning of this very day on which so muchparts of some great scheme which Mr Nadgett had on foot.quite intimate with Mr Tacker, Mr Mould’s foreman; and had happened to Tom Pinch, that Nadgett suddenly appearedeven with Mr Mould himself, who openly said he was a longheadedman, a dry one, a salt fish, a deep file, a rasper; and his appearance as if he had that moment come up a trap—before Mr Montague’s house in Pall Mall—he always mademade him the subject of many other flattering encomiums. when the clocks were striking nine. He rang the bell in a covertunder-handed way, as though it were a treasonable act;At the same time, too, he told the people at the AssuranceOffice, in his own mysterious way, that there was something and passed in at the door, the moment it was opened widewrong (secretly wrong, of course) in his liver, and that he enough to receive his body. That done, he shut it immedi-588

Charles Dickensately with his own hands.it,’ was his answer, as he put on his spectacles.Mr Bailey, taking up his name without delay, returned with ‘What do you think of it yourself? Have you pleased yourself?’a request that he would follow him into his master’s chamber.The chairman of the Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan Mr Nadgett rubbed his hands slowly, stroked his chin,and Life Assurance Board was dressing, and received him as a looked round the room, and said, ‘Yes, yes, I think it’s a goodbusiness person who was often backwards and forwards, and case. I am disposed to think it’s a good case. Will you go intowas received at all times for his business’ sake.it at once?’‘Well, Mr Nadgett?’‘By all means.’Mr Nadgett put his hat upon the ground and coughed. Mr Nadgett picked out a certain chair from among theThe boy having withdrawn and shut the door, he went to it rest, and having planted it in a particular spot, as carefully as ifsoftly, examined the handle, and returned to within a pace or he had been going to vault over it, placed another chair intwo of the chair in which Mr Montague sat.front of it; leaving room for his own legs between them. He‘Any news, Mr Nadgett?’then sat down in chair number two, and laid his pocket-book,‘I think we have some news at last, sir.’very carefully, on chair number one. He then untied the‘I am happy to hear it. I began to fear you were off the pocket-book, and hung the string over the back of chair numberone. He then drew both the chairs a little nearer Mrscent, Mr Nadgett.’‘No, sir. It grows cold occasionally. It will sometimes. We Montague, and opening the pocket-book spread out its contents.Finally he selected a certain memorandum from thecan’t help that.’‘You are truth itself, Mr Nadgett. Do you report a great rest, and held it out to his employer, who, during the wholesuccess?’of these preliminary ceremonies, had been making violent‘That depends upon your judgment and construction of efforts to conceal his impatience.589

Martin Chuzzlewit‘I wish you wouldn’t be so fond of making notes, my excellentfriend,’ said Tigg Montague with a ghastly smile. ‘I wish peat the request he had already twice preferred; with the viewwith alarm), that Mr Nadgett considered it necessary to re-you would consent to give me their purport by word of to recalling his attention to the point in hand. Profiting bymouth.’the hint, Mr Montague went on with Number Two, and‘I don’t like word of mouth,’ said Mr Nadgett gravely. ‘We afterwards with Numbers Three, and Four, and Five, and sonever know who’s listening.’on.Mr Montague was going to retort, when Nadgett handed These documents were all in Mr Nadgett’s writing, andhim the paper, and said, with quiet exultation in his tone, were apparently a series of memoranda, jotted down from‘We’ll begin at the beginning, and take that one first, if you time to time upon the backs of old letters, or any scrap ofplease, sir.’paper that came first to hand. Loose straggling scrawls theyThe chairman cast his eyes upon it, coldly, and with a smile were, and of very uninviting exterior; but they had weightywhich did not render any great homage to the slow and methodicalhabits of his spy. But he had not read half-a-dozen character of their contents.purpose in them, if the chairman’s face were any index to thelines when the expression of his face began to change, and The progress of Mr Nadgett’s secret satisfaction arising outbefore he had finished the perusal of the paper, it was full of of the effect they made, kept pace with the emotions of thegrave and serious attention.reader. At first, Mr Nadgett sat with his spectacles low down‘Number Two,’ said Mr Nadgett, handing him another, upon his nose, looking over them at his employer, and nervouslyrubbing his hands. After a little while, he changed hisand receiving back the first. ‘Read Number Two, sir, if youplease. There is more interest as you go on.’posture in his chair for one of greater ease, and leisurely perusedthe next document he held ready as if an occasionalTigg Montague leaned backward in his chair, and cast uponhis emissary such a look of vacant wonder (not unmingled glance at his employer’s face were now enough and all occa-590

Charles Dickenssion for anxiety or doubt were gone. And finally he rose and of window, and tell me whether there is anybody at the door?’looked out of the window, where he stood with a triumphantair until Tigg Montague had finished.very corner, as a man might who was looking down into aMr Nadgett softly raised the sash, and peered out from the‘And this is the last, Mr Nadgett!’ said that gentleman, drawinga long breath.expected at any moment. Drawing in his head with equalstreet from whence a brisk discharge of musketry might be‘That, sir, is the last.’caution, he observed, not altering his voice or manner:‘You are a wonderful man, Mr Nadgett!’‘Mr Jonas Chuzzlewit!’‘I think it is a pretty good case,’ he returned as he gathered ‘I thought so,’ Tigg retorted.up his papers. ‘It cost some trouble, sir.’‘Shall I go?’‘The trouble shall be well rewarded, Mr Nadgett.’ Nadgett ‘I think you had better. Stay though! No! remain here, Mrbowed. ‘There is a deeper impression of Somebody’s Hoof Nadgett, if you please.’here, than I had expected, Mr Nadgett. I may congratulate It was remarkable how pale and flurried he had become inmyself upon your being such a good hand at a secret.’ an instant. There was nothing to account for it. His eye had‘Oh! nothing has an interest to me that’s not a secret,’ repliedNadgett, as he tied the string about his pocket-book, Mr Chuzzlewit was announced.fallen on his razors; but what of them!and put it up. ‘It always takes away any pleasure I may have ‘Show him up directly. Nadgett! don’t you leave us alonehad in this inquiry even to make it known to you.’ together. Mind you don’t, now! By the Lord!’ he added in a‘A most invaluable constitution,’ Tigg retorted. ‘A great gift for a whisper to himself: ‘We don’t know what may happen.’gentleman employed as you are, Mr Nadgett. Much better than Saying this, he hurriedly took up a couple of hair-brushes, anddiscretion; though you possess that quality also in an eminent degree.I think I heard a double knock. Will you put your head out been interrupted. Mr Nadgett withdrew to the stove, inbegan to exercise them on his own head, as if his toilet had notwhich591

Martin Chuzzlewitthere was a small fire for the convenience of heating curling-irons; may go, mayn’t he?’and taking advantage of so favourable an opportunity for drying ‘Oh, let him stay, let him stay!’ said Tigg. ‘He’s a mere piece ofhis pocket-handkerchief, produced it without loss of time. There furniture. He has been making his report, and is waiting for furtherorders. He has been told,’ said Tigg, raising his voice, ‘not tohe stood, during the whole interview, holding it before the bars,and sometimes, but not often, glancing over his shoulder. lose sight of certain friends of ours, or to think that he has done‘My dear Chuzzlewit!’ cried Montague, as Jonas entered. with them by any means. He understands his business.’‘You rise with the lark. Though you go to bed with the nightingale,you rise with the lark. You have superhuman energy, mies in appearance that I ever saw, he’s about the worst. He’s‘He need,’ replied Jonas; ‘for of all the precious old dum-my dear Chuzzlewit!’afraid of me, I think.’‘Ecod!’ said Jonas, with an air of langour and ill-humour, as ‘It’s my belief,’ said Tigg, ‘that you are Poison to him.he took a chair, ‘I should be very glad not to get up with the Nadgett! give me that towel!’lark, if I could help it. But I am a light sleeper; and it’s better He had as little occasion for a towel as Jonas had for a start.to be up than lying awake, counting the dismal old churchclocks,in bed.’moment, fell back upon his old post by the fire.But Nadgett brought it quickly; and, having lingered for a‘A light sleeper!’ cried his friend. ‘Now, what is a light sleeper? ‘You see, my dear fellow,’ resumed Tigg, ‘you are too—I often hear the expression, but upon my life I have not the what’s the matter with your lips? How white they are!’least conception what a light sleeper is.’‘I took some vinegar just now,’ said Jonas. ‘I had oysters for‘Hallo!’ said Jonas, ‘Who’s that? Oh, old what’s-his-name: my breakfast. Where are they white?’ he added, muttering anlooking (as usual) as if he wanted to skulk up the chimney.’ oath, and rubbing them upon his handkerchief. ‘I don’t believethey are white.’‘Ha, ha! I have no doubt he does.’‘Well! He’s not wanted here, I suppose,’ said Jonas. ‘He ‘Now I look again, they are not,’ replied his friend. ‘They592

Charles Dickensare coming right again.’‘Not satisfied!’ cried Tigg. ‘The money comes in well.’‘Say what you were going to say,’ cried Jonas angrily, ‘and ‘The money comes in well enough,’ retorted Jonas, ‘but itlet my face be! As long as I can show my teeth when I want to don’t come out well enough. It can’t be got at easily enough.(and I can do that pretty well), the colour of my lips is not I haven’t sufficient power; it is all in your hands. Ecod! whatmaterial.’with one of your by-laws, and another of your by-laws, and‘Quite true,’ said Tigg. ‘I was only going to say that you are your votes in this capacity, and your votes in that capacity,too quick and active for our friend. He is too shy to cope and your official rights, and your individual rights, and otherwith such a man as you, but does his duty well. Oh, very people’s rights who are only you again, there are no rights leftwell! But what is a light sleeper?’for me. Everybody else’s rights are my wrongs. What’s the use‘Hang a light sleeper!’ exclaimed Jonas pettishly.of my having a voice if it’s always drowned? I might as well‘No, no,’ interrupted Tigg. ‘No. We’ll not do that.’ be dumb, and it would be much less aggravating. I’m not a-‘A light sleeper ain’t a heavy one,’ said Jonas in his sulky going to stand that, you know.’way; ‘don’t sleep much, and don’t sleep well, and don’t sleep ‘No!’ said Tigg in an insinuating tone.sound.’‘No!’ returned Jonas, ‘I’m not indeed. I’ll play old Gooseberrywith the office, and make you glad to buy me out at a‘And dreams,’ said Tigg, ‘and cries out in an ugly manner;and when the candle burns down in the night, is in an agony; good high figure, if you try any of your tricks with me.’and all that sort of thing. I see!’‘I give you my honour—’ Montague began.They were silent for a little time. Then Jonas spoke: ‘Oh! confound your honour,’ interrupted Jonas, who becamemore coarse and quarrelsome as the other remonstrated,‘Now we’ve done with child’s talk, I want to have a wordwith you. I want to have a word with you before we meet up which may have been a part of Mr Montague’s intention; ‘Iyonder to-day. I am not satisfied with the state of affairs.’ want a little more control over the money. You may have all593

Martin Chuzzlewitthe honour, if you like; I’ll never bring you to book for that. be all to my advantage, won’t it?’But I’m not a-going to stand it, as it is now. If you should ‘It will be very much to your advantage,’ answered Montaguetake it into your honourable head to go abroad with the bank, poising a brush in each hand, and looking steadily upon him.I don’t see much to prevent you. Well! That won’t do. I’ve ‘It will be very much to your advantage, I assure you.’had some very good dinners here, but they’d come too dear ‘And you can tell me how,’ said Jonas, ‘can’t you?’on such terms; and therefore, that won’t do.’‘Shall I tell you how?’ returned the other.‘I am unfortunate to find you in this humour,’ said Tigg, ‘I think you had better,’ said Jonas. ‘Strange things havewith a remarkable kind of smile; ‘for I was going to propose been done in the Assurance way before now, by strange sortsto you—for your own advantage; solely for your own advantage—thatyou should venture a little more with us.’ ‘Chuzzlewit!’ replied Montague, leaning forward, with hisof men, and I mean to take care of myself.’‘Was you, by G—?’ said Jonas, with a short laugh. arms upon his knees, and looking full into his face. ‘Strange‘Yes. And to suggest,’ pursued Montague, ‘that surely you things have been done, and are done every day; not only inhave friends; indeed, I know you have; who would answer our way, but in a variety of other ways; and no one suspectsour purpose admirably, and whom we should be delighted to them. But ours, as you say, my good friend, is a strange way;receive.’and we strangely happen, sometimes, to come into the knowledgeof very strange events.’‘How kind of you! You’d be delighted to receive ‘em, wouldyou?’ said Jonas, bantering.He beckoned to Jonas to bring his chair nearer; and lookingslightly round, as if to remind him of the presence of‘I give you my sacred honour, quite transported. As yourfriends, observe!’Nadgett, whispered in his ear.‘Exactly,’ said Jonas; ‘as my friends, of course. You’ll be very From red to white; from white to red again; from red tomuch delighted when you get ‘em, I have no doubt. And it’ll yellow; then to a cold, dull, awful, sweat-bedabbled blue. In594

Charles Dickensthat short whisper, all these changes fell upon the face of Jonas ‘Yes, he has money.’Chuzzlewit; and when at last he laid his hand upon the ‘Shall I leave Mr Pecksniff to you? Will you undertake forwhisperer’s mouth, appalled, lest any syllable of what he said Mr Pecksniff.’should reach the ears of the third person present, it was as ‘I’ll try. I’ll do my best.’bloodless and as heavy as the hand of Death.‘A thousand thanks,’ replied the other, clapping him uponHe drew his chair away, and sat a spectacle of terror, misery, the shoulder. ‘Shall we walk downstairs? Mr Nadgett! Followand rage. He was afraid to speak, or look, or move, or sit still. us, if you please.’Abject, crouching, and miserable, he was a greater degradationto the form he bore, than if he had been a loathsome erence to Montague; whatever sense he had of being caged,They went down in that order. Whatever Jonas felt in ref-wound from head to heel.and barred, and trapped, and having fallen down into a pit ofHis companion leisurely resumed his dressing, and completedit, glancing sometimes with a smile at the transforma-even at that early time, of one terrible chance of escape, ofdeepest ruin; whatever thoughts came crowding on his mindtion he had effected, but never speaking once.one red glimmer in a sky of blackness; he no more thought‘You’ll not object,’ he said, when he was quite equipped, ‘to that the slinking figure half-a-dozen stairs behind him was hisventure further with us, Chuzzlewit, my friend?’pursuing Fate, than that the other figure at his side was hisHis pale lips faintly stammered out a ‘No.’Good Angel.‘Well said! That’s like yourself. Do you know I was thinkingyesterday that your father-in-law, relying on your adviceas a man of great sagacity in money matters, as no doubt youare, would join us, if the thing were well presented to him.He has money?’595

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINECONTAINING SOME FURTHER PARTICU-LARS OF THE DOMESTIC ECONOMY OFTHE PINCHES;WITH STRANGE NEWS FROM THE CITY,NARROWLY CONCERNING TOMPLEASANT LITTLE RUTH! Cheerful, tidy, bustling, quiet littleRuth! No doll’s house ever yielded greater delight to its youngmistress, than little Ruth derived from her glorious dominionover the triangular parlour and the two small bedrooms.To be Tom’s housekeeper. What dignity! Housekeeping,upon the commonest terms, associated itself with elevatedresponsibilities of all sorts and kinds; but housekeeping forTom implied the utmost complication of grave trusts andmighty charges. Well might she take the keys out of the littlechiffonier which held the tea and sugar; and out of the twolittle damp cupboards down by the fireplace, where the veryblack beetles got mouldy, and had the shine taken out ofMartin Chuzzlewit596their backs by envious mildew; and jingle them upon a ringbefore Tom’s eyes when he came down to breakfast! Wellmight she, laughing musically, put them up in that blessedlittle pocket of hers with a merry pride! For it was such agrand novelty to be mistress of anything, that if she had beenthe most relentless and despotic of all little housekeepers, shemight have pleaded just that much for her excuse, and havebeen honourably acquitted.So far from being despotic, however, there was a coynessabout her very way of pouring out the tea, which Tom quiterevelled in. And when she asked him what he would like tohave for dinner, and faltered out ‘chops’ as a reasonably goodsuggestion after their last night’s successful supper, Tom grewquite facetious, and rallied her desperately.‘I don’t know, Tom,’ said his sister, blushing, ‘I am not quiteconfident, but I think I could make a beef-steak pudding, if Itried, Tom.’‘In the whole catalogue of cookery, there is nothing I shouldlike so much as a beef-steak pudding!’ cried Tom, slappinghis leg to give the greater force to this reply.‘Yes, dear, that’s excellent! But if it should happen not to

Charles Dickenscome quite right the first time,’ his sister faltered; ‘if it should think it so. There is naturally something so handy and briskhappen not to be a pudding exactly, but should turn out a about you, Ruth, that if you said you could make a bowl ofstew, or a soup, or something of that sort, you’ll not be vexed, faultless turtle soup, I should believe you.’Tom, will you?’And Tom was right. She was precisely that sort of person.The serious way in which she looked at Tom; the way in Nobody ought to have been able to resist her coaxing manner;and nobody had any business to try. Yet she never seemedwhich Tom looked at her; and the way in which she graduallybroke into a merry laugh at her own expense, would have to know it was her manner at all. That was the best of it.enchanted you.Well! she washed up the breakfast cups, chatting away the‘Why,’ said Tom ‘this is capital. It gives us a new, and quite whole time, and telling Tom all sorts of anecdotes about thean uncommon interest in the dinner. We put into a lottery brass-and-copper founder; put everything in its place; madefor a beefsteak pudding, and it is impossible to say what we the room as neat as herself;—you must not suppose its shapemay get. We may make some wonderful discovery, perhaps, was half as neat as hers though, or anything like it—andand produce such a dish as never was known before.’ brushed Tom’s old hat round and round and round again,‘I shall not be at all surprised if we do, Tom,’ returned his until it was as sleek as Mr Pecksniff. Then she discovered, allsister, still laughing merrily, ‘or if it should prove to be such a in a moment, that Tom’s shirt-collar was frayed at the edge;dish as we shall not feel very anxious to produce again; but and flying upstairs for a needle and thread, came flying downthe meat must come out of the saucepan at last, somehow or again with her thimble on, and set it right with wonderfulother, you know. We can’t cook it into nothing at all; that’s a expertness; never once sticking the needle into his face, althoughshe was humming his pet tune from first to last, andgreat comfort. So if you like to venture, I will.’‘I have not the least doubt,’ rejoined Tom, ‘that it will come beating time with the fingers of her left hand upon hisout an excellent pudding, or at all events, I am sure that I shall neckcloth. She had no sooner done this, than off she was597

Martin Chuzzlewitagain; and there she stood once more, as brisk and busy as a cabbage-leaf into his pocket awkwardly, he begged to be allowedto do it for him; ‘for meat,’ he said with some emo-bee, tying that compact little chin of hers into an equallycompact little bonnet; intent on bustling out to the butcher’s, tion, ‘must be humoured, not drove.’without a minute’s loss of time; and inviting Tom to come Back they went to the lodgings again, after they had bought someand see the steak cut, with his own eyes. As to Tom, he was eggs, and flour, and such small matters; and Tom sat gravely down toready to go anywhere; so off they trotted, arm-in-arm, as nimblyas you please; saying to each other what a quiet street it the pudding at the other end; for there was nobody in the house butwrite at one end of the parlour table, while Ruth prepared to makewas to lodge in, and how very cheap, and what an airy situation.went out early in the morning, and was scarcely ever seen); and sav-an old woman (the landlord being a mysterious sort of man, whoTo see the butcher slap the steak, before he laid it on the ing in mere household drudgery, they waited on themselves.block, and give his knife a sharpening, was to forget breakfast ‘What are you writing, Tom?’ inquired his sister, laying herinstantly. It was agreeable, too—it really was—to see him cut hand upon his shoulder.it off, so smooth and juicy. There was nothing savage in the ‘Why, you see, my dear,’ said Tom, leaning back in his chair,act, although the knife was large and keen; it was a piece of and looking up in her face, ‘I am very anxious, of course, toart, high art; there was delicacy of touch, clearness of tone, obtain some suitable employment; and before Mr Westlockskillful handling of the subject, fine shading. It was the triumphof mind over matter; quite.description of myself and my qualifications; such as he couldcomes this afternoon, I think I may as well prepare a littlePerhaps the greenest cabbage-leaf ever grown in a garden show to any friend of his.’was wrapped about this steak, before it was delivered over to ‘You had better do the same for me, Tom, also,’ said hisTom. But the butcher had a sentiment for his business, and sister, casting down her eyes. ‘I should dearly like to keepknew how to refine upon it. When he saw Tom putting the house for you and take care of you always, Tom; but we are598

Charles Dickensnot rich enough for that.’together. You’ll like John very much, when you come to know‘We are not rich,’ returned Tom, ‘certainly; and we may be him, I am certain. Don’t cry, don’t cry. YOU make a beefsteakpudding, indeed!’ said Tom, giving her a gentle push.much poorer. But we will not part if we can help it. No, no;we will make up our minds Ruth, that unless we are so very ‘Why, you haven’t boldness enough for a dumpling!’unfortunate as to render me quite sure that you would be ‘You will call it a pudding, Tom. Mind! I told you not!’better off away from me than with me, we will battle it out ‘I may as well call it that, till it proves to be something else,’together. I am certain we shall be happier if we can battle it said Tom. ‘Oh, you are going to work in earnest, are you?’out together. Don’t you think we shall?’Aye, aye! That she was. And in such pleasant earnest, moreover,that Tom’s attention wandered from his writing every‘Think, Tom!’‘Oh, tut, tut!’ interposed Tom, tenderly. ‘You mustn’t cry.’ moment. First, she tripped downstairs into the kitchen for‘No, no; I won’t, Tom. But you can’t afford it, dear. You the flour, then for the pie-board, then for the eggs, then forcan’t, indeed.’the butter, then for a jug of water, then for the rolling-pin,‘We don’t know that,’ said Tom. ‘How are we to know then for a pudding-basin, then for the pepper, then for thethat, yet awhile, and without trying? Lord bless my soul!’— salt; making a separate journey for everything, and laughingTom’s energy became quite grand—’there is no knowing what every time she started off afresh. When all the materials weremay happen, if we try hard. And I am sure we can live contentedlyupon a very little—if we can only get it.’so ran UPstairs by way of variety, to fetch it. She didn’t put itcollected she was horrified to find she had no apron on, and‘Yes; that I am sure we can, Tom.’on upstairs, but came dancing down with it in her hand; and‘Why, then,’ said Tom, ‘we must try for it. My friend, John being one of those little women to whom an apron is a mostWestlock, is a capital fellow, and very shrewd and intelligent. becoming little vanity, it took an immense time to arrange;I’ll take his advice. We’ll talk it over with him—both of us having to be carefully smoothed down beneath—Oh, heaven,599

Martin Chuzzlewitwhat a wicked little stomacher!—and to be gathered up into As if he hadn’t been looking all the time!little plaits by the strings before it could be tied, and to be ‘I am going to begin, Tom. Don’t you wonder why I buttertapped, rebuked, and wheedled, at the pockets, before it would the inside of the basin?’ said his busy little sister.set right, which at last it did, and when it did—but never ‘Not more than you do, I dare say,’ replied Tom, laughing.mind; this is a sober chronicle. And then, there were her cuffs ‘For I believe you don’t know anything about it.’to be tucked up, for fear of flour; and she had a little ring to ‘What an infidel you are, Tom! How else do you think itpull off her finger, which wouldn’t come off (foolish little would turn out easily when it was done! For a civil-engineerring!); and during the whole of these preparations she looked and land-surveyor not to know that! My goodness, Tom!’demurely every now and then at Tom, from under her dark It was wholly out of the question to try to write. Tom linedeyelashes, as if they were all a part of the pudding, and indispensableto its composition.on, pen in hand, with one of the most loving smiles imagin-out ‘respectable young man, aged thirty-five;’ and sat lookingFor the life and soul of him, Tom could get no further in able.his writing than, ‘A respectable young man, aged thirty-five,’ Such a busy little woman as she was! So full of self-importanceand trying so hard not to smile, or seem uncertain aboutand this, notwithstanding the show she made of being supernaturallyquiet, and going about on tiptoe, lest she should anything! It was a perfect treat to Tom to see her with herdisturb him; which only served as an additional means of brows knit, and her rosy lips pursed up, kneading away at thedistracting his attention, and keeping it upon her.crust, rolling it out, cutting it up into strips, lining the basin‘Tom,’ she said at last, in high glee. ‘Tom!’with it, shaving it off fine round the rim, chopping up the‘What now?’ said Tom, repeating to himself, ‘aged thirtyfive!’them, packing them into the basin, pouring in cold water forsteak into small pieces, raining down pepper and salt upon‘Will you look here a moment, please?’gravy, and never venturing to steal a look in his direction, lest600

Charles Dickensher gravity should be disturbed; until, at last, the basin being smile, ‘why any of us should be disconcerted at my havingquite full and only wanting the top crust, she clapped her accidentally intruded upon such an agreeable domestic occupation,so very agreeably and skillfully pursued; but I musthands all covered with paste and flour, at Tom, and burst outheartily into such a charming little laugh of triumph, that the confess that I am. Tom, will you kindly come to my relief?’pudding need have had no other seasoning to commend it to ‘Mr John Westlock,’ said Tom. ‘My sister.’the taste of any reasonable man on earth.‘I hope that, as the sister of so old a friend,’ said John,‘Where’s the pudding?’ said Tom. For he was cutting his laughing ‘you will have the goodness to detach your first impressionsof me from my unfortunate entrance.’jokes, Tom was.‘Where!’ she answered, holding it up with both hands. ‘Look at it!’ ‘My sister is not indisposed perhaps to say the same to you‘That a pudding!’ said Tom.on her own behalf,’ retorted Tom.‘It will be, you stupid fellow, when it’s covered in,’ returned John said, of course, that this was quite unnecessary, for hehis sister. Tom still pretending to look incredulous, she gave had been transfixed in silent admiration; and he held out hishim a tap on the head with the rolling-pin, and still laughing hand to Miss Pinch; who couldn’t take it, however, by reasonmerrily, had returned to the composition of the top crust, of the flour and paste upon her own. This, which might seemwhen she started and turned very red. Tom started, too, for calculated to increase the general confusion and render mattersworse, had in reality the best effect in the world, for nei-following her eyes, he saw John Westlock in the room.‘Why, my goodness, John! How did you come in?’ ther of them could help laughing; and so they both found‘I beg pardon,’ said John—’ your sister’s pardon especially— themselves on easy terms immediately.but I met an old lady at the street door, who requested me to ‘I am delighted to see you,’ said Tom. ‘Sit down.’enter here; and as you didn’t hear me knock, and the door was ‘I can only think of sitting down on one condition,’ returnedhis friend; ‘and that is, that your sister goes on open, I made bold to do so. I hardly know,’ said John, with awith601

Martin Chuzzlewitthe pudding, as if you were still alone.’how is it you never told me you had friends in London?’‘That I am sure she will,’ said Tom. ‘On one other condition,and that is, that you stay and help us to eat it.’ his sister looked with all her might at him.Tom looked at his sister with all his might; and certainlyPoor little Ruth was seized with a palpitation of the heart ‘Friends in London!’ echoed Tom.when Tom committed this appalling indiscretion, for she felt ‘Ah!’ said Westlock, ‘to be sure.’that if the dish turned out a failure, she never would be able ‘Have you any friends in London, Ruth, my dear!’ askedto hold up her head before John Westlock again. Quite unconsciousof her state of mind, John accepted the invitation ‘No, Tom.’Tom.with all imaginable heartiness; and after a little more pleasantryconcerning this same pudding, and the tremendous ex-news to me. I never knew it. They must be capital people to‘I am very happy to hear that I have,’ said Tom, ‘but it’spectations he made believe to entertain of it, she blushingly keep a secret, John.’resumed her occupation, and he took a chair.‘You shall judge for yourself,’ returned the other. ‘Seriously,‘I am here much earlier than I intended, Tom; but I will tell Tom, here is the plain state of the case. As I was sitting atyou, what brings me, and I think I can answer for your being breakfast this morning, there comes a knock at my door.’glad to hear it. Is that anything you wish to show me?’ ‘On which you cried out, very loud, “Come in!”’ suggested‘Oh dear no!’ cried Tom, who had forgotten the blotted Tom.scrap of paper in his hand, until this inquiry brought it to ‘So I did. And the person who knocked, not being a respectableyoung man, aged thirty-five, from the country, camehis recollection. ‘“A respectable young man, aged thirtyfive”—Thebeginning of a description of myself. That’s in when he was invited, instead of standing gaping and staringabout him on the landing. Well! When he came in, Iall.’‘I don’t think you will have occasion to finish it, Tom. But found he was a stranger; a grave, business-like, sedate-look-602

Charles Dickensing, stranger. “Mr Westlock?” said he. “That is my name,” want another? Yes, you did.’said I. “The favour of a few words with you?” said he. “Pray ‘Certainly,’ said Tom, nodding his head.be seated, sir,” said I.’‘Just what I impressed upon him. You may rest assured thatHere John stopped for an instant, to glance towards the I set that point beyond the possibility of any mistake, andtable, where Tom’s sister, listening attentively, was still busy gave him distinctly to understand that he might make up hiswith the basin, which by this time made a noble appearance. mind about it. Very well.’Then he resumed:“Then,” said he, “I think I can accommodate him.”’‘The pudding having taken a chair, Tom—’Tom’s sister stopped short.‘What!’ cried Tom.‘Lord bless me!’ cried Tom. ‘Ruth, my dear, “think I can‘Having taken a chair.’accommodate him.”’‘You said a pudding.’‘Of course I begged him,’ pursued John Westlock, glancing‘No, no,’ replied John, colouring rather; ‘a chair. The idea at Tom’s sister, who was not less eager in her interest thanof a stranger coming into my rooms at half-past eight o’clock Tom himself, ‘to proceed, and said that I would undertake toin the morning, and taking a pudding! Having taken a chair, see you immediately. He replied that he had very little to say,Tom, a chair—amazed me by opening the conversation thus: being a man of few words, but such as it was, it was to the“I believe you are acquainted, sir, with Mr Thomas Pinch?” purpose—and so, indeed, it turned out—for he immediately‘No!’ cried Tom.went on to tell me that a friend of his was in want of a kind‘His very words, I assure you. I told him I was. Did I know of secretary and librarian; and that although the salary waswhere you were at present residing? Yes. In London? Yes. He had small, being only a hundred pounds a year, with neither boardcasually heard, in a roundabout way, that you had left your situationwith Mr Pecksniff. Was that the fact? Yes, it was. Did you was. Vacant, and ready for yournor lodging, still the duties were not heavy, and there the postacceptance.’603

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Good gracious me!’ cried Tom; ‘a hundred pounds a year! as well known as the Church steeple, or the Blue Dragon.”’My dear John! Ruth, my love! A hundred pounds a year!’ ‘The Blue Dragon!’ repeated Tom, staring alternately at his‘But the strangest part of the story,’ resumed John Westlock, friend and his sister.laying his hand on Tom’s wrist, to bespeak his attention, and represshis ecstasies for the moment; ‘the strangest part of the story, Dragon, I give you my word, as if he had been Mark Tapley.‘Aye, think of that! He spoke as familiarly of the BlueMiss Pinch, is this. I don’t know this man from Adam; neither I opened my eyes, I can tell you, when he did so; but I coulddoes this man know Tom.’not fancy I had ever seen the man before, although he said‘He can’t,’ said Tom, in great perplexity, ‘if he’s a Londoner. with a smile, “You know the Blue Dragon, Mr Westlock; youI don’t know any one in London.’kept it up there, once or twice, yourself.” Kept it up there! So‘And on my observing,’ John resumed, still keeping his hand I did. You remember, Tom?’upon Tom’s wrist, ‘that I had no doubt he would excuse the Tom nodded with great significance, and, falling into a statefreedom I took in inquiring who directed him to me; how he of deeper perplexity than before, observed that this was thecame to know of the change which had taken place in my friend’s most unaccountable and extraordinary circumstance he hadposition; and how he came to be acquainted with my friend’s ever heard of in his life.peculiar fitness for such an office as he had described; he drily said ‘Unaccountable?’ his friend repeated. ‘I became afraid ofthat he was not at liberty to enter into any explanations.’ the man. Though it was broad day, and bright sunshine, I was‘Not at liberty to enter into any explanations!’ repeated Tom, positively afraid of him. I declare I half suspected him to be adrawing a long breath.supernatural visitor, and not a mortal, until he took out a‘“I must be perfectly aware,” he said,’ John added, ‘“that to common-place description of pocket-book, and handed meany person who had ever been in Mr Pecksniff’s this card.’neighbourhood, Mr Thomas Pinch and his acquirements were ‘Mr Fips,’ said Tom, reading it aloud. ‘Austin Friars. Austin604

Charles DickensFriars sounds ghostly, John.’‘No,’ retorted John. ‘Indeed, no. It is very ungenerous in‘Fips don’t, I think,’ was John’s reply. ‘But there he lives, you to be so suspicious of me when I repose implicit faith inTom, and there he expects us to call this morning. And now you. I have unbounded confidence in the pudding, Missyou know as much of this strange incident as I do, upon my Pinch.’honour.’She laughed at this, but they soon got back into a seriousTom’s face, between his exultation in the hundred pounds a vein, and discussed the subject with profound gravity. Whateverelse was obscure in the business, it appeared to be quiteyear, and his wonder at this narration, was only to be equalledby the face of his sister, on which there sat the very best expressionof blooming surprise that any painter could have year; and this being the main point, the surrounding obscu-plain that Tom was offered a salary of one hundred pounds awished to see. What the beef-steak pudding would have come rity rather set it off than otherwise.to, if it had not been by this time finished, astrology itself Tom, being in a great flutter, wished to start for Austin Friarscould hardly determine.instantly, but they waited nearly an hour, by John’s advice, beforethey departed. Tom made himself as spruce as he could‘Tom,’ said Ruth, after a little hesitation, ‘perhaps MrWestlock, in his friendship for you, knows more of this than before leaving home, and when John Westlock, through thehe chooses to tell.’half-opened parlour door, had glimpses of that brave little sisterbrushing the collar of his coat in the passage, taking up loose‘No, indeed!’ cried John, eagerly. ‘It is not so, I assure you.I wish it were. I cannot take credit to myself, Miss Pinch, for stitches in his gloves and hovering lightly about and about him,any such thing. All that I know, or, so far as I can judge, am touching him up here and there in the height of her quaint,likely to know, I have told you.’little, old-fashioned tidiness, he called to mind the fancy-portraitsof her on the wall of the Pecksniffian workroom, and‘Couldn’t you know more, if you thought proper?’ saidRuth, scraping the pie-board industriously.decided with uncommon indignation that they were gross li-605

Martin Chuzzlewitbels, and not half pretty enough; though, as hath been mentionedin its place, the artists always made those sketches beau-some leads, they found a little blear-eyed glass door up in oneon the first floor, oddly situated at the back of a house, acrosstiful, and he had drawn at least a score of them with his own corner, with MR. FIPS painted on it in characters which werehands.meant to be transparent. There was also a wicked old sideboardhiding in the gloom hard by, meditating designs upon‘Tom,’ he said, as they were walking along, ‘I begin to thinkyou must be somebody’s son.’the ribs of visitors; and an old mat, worn into lattice work,‘I suppose I am,’ Tom answered in his quiet way. which, being useless as a mat (even if anybody could have‘But I mean somebody’s of consequence.’seen it, which was impossible), had for many years directed‘Bless your heart,’ replied Tom, ‘my poor father was of no its industry into another channel, and regularly tripped upconsequence, nor my mother either.’every one of Mr Fips’s clients.‘You remember them perfectly, then?’Mr Fips, hearing a violent concussion between a human hat‘Remember them? oh dear yes. My poor mother was the and his office door, was apprised, by the usual means of communication,that somebody had come to call upon him, andlast. She died when Ruth was a mere baby, and then we bothbecame a charge upon the savings of that good old grandmotherI used to tell you of. You remember! Oh! There’s dark.’giving that somebody admission, observed that it was ‘rathernothing romantic in our history, John.’‘Dark indeed,’ John whispered in Tom Pinch’s ear. ‘Not a‘Very well,’ said John in quiet despair. ‘Then there is no bad place to dispose of a countryman in, I should think, Tom.’way of accounting for my visitor of this morning. So we’ll Tom had been already turning over in his mind the possibilityof their having been tempted into that region to fur-not try, Tom.’They did try, notwithstanding, and never left off trying nish forth a pie; but the sight of Mr Fips, who was small anduntil they got to Austin Friars, where, in a very dark passage spare, and looked peaceable, and wore black shorts and pow-606

Charles Dickensder, dispelled his doubts.inquired of Tom.‘Walk in,’ said Mr Fips.‘I think it a piece of great good fortune, sir,’ said Tom. ‘IThey walked in. And a mighty yellow-jaundiced little officeMr Fips had of it; with a great, black, sprawling splash ‘Not to me,’ said Mr Fips. ‘I act upon instructions.’am exceedingly obliged to you for the offer.’upon the floor in one corner, as if some old clerk had cut his ‘To your friend, sir, then,’ said Tom. ‘To the gentlemanthroat there, years ago, and had let out ink instead of blood. with whom I am to engage, and whose confidence I shall‘I have brought my friend Mr Pinch, sir,’ said John Westlock. endeavour to deserve. When he knows me better, sir, I hope‘Be pleased to sit,’ said Mr Fips.he will not lose his good opinion of me. He will find meThey occupied the two chairs, and Mr Fips took the office punctual and vigilant, and anxious to do what is right. That Istool from the stuffing whereof he drew forth a piece of horsehairof immense length, which he put into his mouth with a Westlock.’think I can answer for, and so,’ looking towards him, ‘can Mrgreat appearance of appetite.‘Most assuredly,’ said John.He looked at Tom Pinch curiously, but with an entire freedomfrom any such expression as could be reasonably con-the conversation. To relieve himself, he took up the wafer-Mr Fips appeared to have some little difficulty in resumingstrued into an unusual display of interest. After a short silence,during which Mr Fips was so perfectly unembarrassed ‘The fact is,’ said Mr Fips, ‘that my friend is not, at thisstamp, and began stamping capital F’s all over his legs.as to render it manifest that he could have broken it sooner present moment, in town.’without hesitation, if he had felt inclined to do so, he asked if Tom’s countenance fell; for he thought this equivalent toMr Westlock had made his offer fully known to Mr Pinch. telling him that his appearance did not answer; and that FipsJohn answered in the affirmative.must look out for somebody else.‘And you think it worth your while, sir, do you?’ Mr Fips ‘When do you think he will be in town, sir?’ he asked.607

Martin Chuzzlewit‘I can’t say; it’s impossible to tell. I really have no idea. But,’ ‘which are light and easy, I am sure; but the place.’said Fips, taking off a very deep impression of the wafer-stamp ‘Oh, the place! The place is in the Temple.’upon the calf of his left leg, and looking steadily at Tom, ‘I Tom was delighted.don’t know that it’s a matter of much consequence.’‘Perhaps,’ said Mr Fips, ‘you would like to see the place?’Poor Tom inclined his head deferentially, but appeared to ‘Oh, dear!’ cried Tom. ‘I shall only be too glad to considerdoubt that.myself engaged, if you will allow me; without any further‘I say,’ repeated Mr Fips, ‘that I don’t know it’s a matter of reference to the place.’much consequence. The business lies entirely between yourselfand me, Mr Pinch. With reference to your duties, I can Fips; ‘you couldn’t meet me at the Temple Gate in Fleet Street,‘You may consider yourself engaged, by all means,’ said Mrset you going; and with reference to your salary, I can pay it. in an hour from this time, I suppose, could you?’Weekly,’ said Mr Fips, putting down the wafer-stamp, and Certainly Tom could.looking at John Westlock and Tom Pinch by turns, ‘weekly; ‘Good,’ said Mr Fips, rising. ‘Then I will show you thein this office; at any time between the hours of four and five place; and you can begin your attendance to-morrow morning.In an hour, therefore, I shall see you. You too, Mro’clock in the afternoon.’ As Mr Fips said this, he made uphis face as if he were going to whistle. But he didn’t. Westlock? Very good. Take care how you go. It’s rather dark.’‘You are very good,’ said Tom, whose countenance was now With this remark, which seemed superfluous, he shut themsuffused with pleasure; ‘and nothing can be more satisfactory out upon the staircase, and they groped their way into theor straightforward. My attendance will be required—’ street again. The interview had done so little to remove the‘From half-past nine to four o’clock or so, I should say,’ mystery in which Tom’s new engagement was involved, andinterrupted Mr Fips. ‘About that.’had done so much to thicken it, that neither could help smilingat the puzzled looks of the other. They agreed, ‘I did not mean the hours of attendance,’ retorted Tom,however,608

Charles Dickensthat the introduction of Tom to his new office and office the key. ‘It’s the only way of preventing them from gettingcompanions could hardly fail to throw a light upon the subject;and therefore postponed its further consideration until for a little oil.’stopped up. You’ll find the lock go the better, too, I dare say,after the fulfillment of the appointment they had made with Tom thanked him; but was too much occupied with hisMr Fips.own speculations, and John Westlock’s looks, to be very talkative.In the meantime Mr Fips opened the door, which yieldedAfter looking at John Westlock’s chambers, and devoting afew spare minutes to the Boar’s Head, they issued forth again to his hand very unwillingly, and with a horribly discordantto the place of meeting. The time agreed upon had not quite sound. He took the key out, when he had done so, and gavecome; but Mr Fips was already at the Temple Gate, and expressedhis satisfaction at their punctuality.‘Aye, aye!’ said Mr Fips. ‘The dust lies rather thick here.’it to Tom.He led the way through sundry lanes and courts, into one Truly, it did. Mr Fips might have gone so far as to say, verymore quiet and more gloomy than the rest, and, singling out thick. It had accumulated everywhere; lay deep on everything,a certain house, ascended a common staircase; taking from and in one part, where a ray of sun shone through a crevice inhis pocket, as he went, a bunch of rusty keys. Stopping beforea door upon an upper story, which had nothing but a ing round and round, like a gigantic squirrel-cage.the shutter and struck upon the opposite wall, it went twirl-yellow smear of paint where custom would have placed the Dust was the only thing in the place that had any motiontenant’s name, he began to beat the dust out of one of these about it. When their conductor admitted the light freely, andkeys, very deliberately, upon the great broad handrail of the lifting up the heavy window-sash, let in the summer air, hebalustrade.showed the mouldering furniture, discoloured wainscoting‘You had better have a little plug made,’ he said, looking and ceiling, rusty stove, and ashy hearth, in all their inert neglect.Close to the door there stood a candlestick, with round at Tom, after blowing a shrill whistle into the barrel ofan609

Martin Chuzzlewitextinguisher upon it; as if the last man who had been there Pinch. That will do to begin with, I think, sir.’had paused, after securing a retreat, to take a parting look at Tom rubbed his hands in the pleasant anticipation of a taskthe dreariness he left behind, and then had shut out light and so congenial to his taste, and said:life together, and closed the place up like a tomb.‘An occupation full of interest for me, I assure you. It willThere were two rooms on that floor; and in the first or occupy me, perhaps, until Mr.—’outer one a narrow staircase, leading to two more above. These ‘Until Mr.—’ repeated Fips; as much as to ask Tom whatlast were fitted up as bed-chambers. Neither in them, nor in he was stopping for.the rooms below, was any scarcity of convenient furniture ‘I forgot that you had not mentioned the gentleman’s name,’observable, although the fittings were of a bygone fashion; said Tom.but solitude and want of use seemed to have rendered it unfit ‘Oh!’ cried Mr Fips, pulling on his glove, ‘didn’t I? No, bythe-bye,I don’t think I did. Ah! I dare say he’ll be here soon.for any purposes of comfort, and to have given it a grisly,haunted air.You will get on very well together, I have no doubt. I wishMovables of every kind lay strewn about, without the least you success I am sure. You won’t forget to shut the door? It’llattempt at order, and were intermixed with boxes, hampers, and lock of itself if you slam it. Half-past nine, you know. Let usall sorts of lumber. On all the floors were piles of books, to the say from half-past nine to four, or half-past four, or thereabouts;one day, perhaps, a little earlier, another day, perhaps,amount, perhaps, of some thousands of volumes: these, still inbales; those, wrapped in paper, as they had been purchased; othersscattered singly or in heaps; not one upon the shelves which your work. Mr Fips, Austin Friars of course you’ll remem-a little later, according as you feel disposed, and as you arrangelined the walls. To these Mr Fips called Tom’s attention. ber? And you won’t forget to slam the door, if you please!’‘Before anything else can be done, we must have them put He said all this in such a comfortable, easy manner, that Tomin order, catalogued, and ranged upon the book-shelves, Mr could only rub his hands, and nod his head, and smile in acquies-610

Charles Dickenscence which he was still doing, when Mr Fips walked coolly out. books were marked with a variety of owner’s names, having,‘Why, he’s gone!’ cried Tom.no doubt, been bought at sales, and collected here and there‘And what’s more, Tom,’ said John Westlock, seating himselfupon a pile of books, and looking up at his astonished longed to Tom’s employer, and, if so, which of them, theyat different times; but whether any one of these names be-friend, ‘he is evidently not coming back again; so here you had no means whatever of determining. It occurred to Johnare, installed. Under rather singular circumstances, Tom!’ as a very bright thought to make inquiry at the steward’s office,to whom the chambers belonged, or by whom they wereIt was such an odd affair throughout, and Tom standingthere among the books with his hat in one hand and the key held; but he came back no wiser than he went, the answerin the other, looked so prodigiously confounded, that his friend being, ‘Mr Fips, of Austin Friars.’could not help laughing heartily. Tom himself was tickled; ‘After all, Tom, I begin to think it lies no deeper than this.no less by the hilarity of his friend than by the recollection of Fips is an eccentric man; has some knowledge of Pecksniff;the sudden manner in which he had been brought to a stop, despises him, of course; has heard or seen enough of you toin the very height of his urbane conference with Mr Fips; so know that you are the man he wants; and engages you in hisby degrees Tom burst out laughing too; and each making the own whimsical manner.’other laugh more, they fairly roared.‘But why in his own whimsical manner?’ asked Tom.When they had had their laugh out, which did not happen ‘Oh! why does any man entertain his own whimsical taste?very soon, for give John an inch that way and he was sure to Why does Mr Fips wear shorts and powder, and Mr Fips’stake several ells, being a jovial, good-tempered fellow, they next-door neighbour boots and a wig?’looked about them more closely, groping among the lumber Tom, being in that state of mind in which any explanationfor any stray means of enlightenment that might turn up. is a great relief, adopted this last one (which indeed was quiteBut no scrap or shred of information could they find. The as feasible as any other) readily, and said he had no doubt of611

Martin Chuzzlewitit. Nor was his faith at all shaken by his having said exactly in the triangular parlour, but there were pleasant smiles uponthe same thing to each suggestion of his friend’s in turn, and her face, and a crowd of welcomes shining out of every smile,being perfectly ready to say it again if he had any new solutionto propose.were! Looking into them for but a moment, when you tookand gleaming in her bright eyes. By the bye, how bright theyAs he had not, Tom drew down the window-sash, and folded her hand, you saw, in each, such a capital miniature of yourself,representing you as such a restless, flashing, eager, bril-the shutter; and they left the rooms. He closed the doorheavily, as Mr Fips had desired him; tried it, found it all safe, liant little fellow—and put the key in his pocket.Ah! if you could only have kept them for your own miniature!But, wicked, roving, restless, too impartial eyes, it wasThey made a pretty wide circuit in going back to Islington,as they had time to spare, and Tom was never tired of looking enough for any one to stand before them, and, straightway,about him. It was well he had John Westlock for his companion,for most people would have been weary of his per-The table was already spread for dinner; and though it wasthere he danced and sparkled quite as merrily as you!petual stoppages at shop-windows, and his frequent dashes spread with nothing very choice in the way of glass or linen,into the crowded carriage-way at the peril of his life, to get and with green-handled knives, and very mountebanks of twoprongedforks, which seemed to be trying how far asunderthe better view of church steeples, and other public buildings.But John was charmed to see him so much interested, and they could possibly stretch their legs without converting themselvesinto double the number of iron toothpicks, it wantedevery time Tom came back with a beaming face from amongthe wheels of carts and hackney-coaches, wholly unconscious neither damask, silver, gold, nor china; no, nor any other garnitureat all. There it was; and, being there, nothing else wouldof the personal congratulations addressed to him by the drivers,John seemed to like him better than before.have done as well.There was no flour on Ruth’s hands when she received them The success of that initiative dish; that first experiment of612

Charles Dickenshers in cookery; was so entire, so unalloyed and perfect, that had brought to dine with him at Salisbury; in what degree ofJohn Westlock and Tom agreed she must have been studying relationship they stood towards each other, being differentthe art in secret for a long time past; and urged her to make a persons; and taking, in short, the greatest interest in the subject.Tom then went into it, at full length; he told how Mar-full confession of the fact. They were exceedingly merry overthis jest, and many smart things were said concerning it; but tin had gone abroad, and had not been heard of for a longJohn was not as fair in his behaviour as might have been expected,for, after luring Tom Pinch on for a long time, he Pecksniff had got the poor old doting grandfather into histime; how Dragon Mark had borne him company; how Mrsuddenly went over to the enemy, and swore to everything power; and how he basely sought the hand of Mary Graham.his sister said. However, as Tom observed the same night beforegoing to bed, it was only in joke, and John had always heart, so deep, and true, and full of honour, and yet with soBut not a word said Tom of what lay hidden in his heart; hisbeen famous for being polite to ladies, even when he was much room for every gentle and unselfish thought; not a word.quite a boy. Ruth said, ‘Oh! indeed!’ She didn’t say anything Tom, Tom! The man in all this world most confident inelse.his sagacity and shrewdness; the man in all this world mostIt is astonishing how much three people may find to talk proud of his distrust of other men, and having most to showabout. They scarcely left off talking once. And it was not all in gold and silver as the gains belonging to his creed; the meekestfavourer of that wise doctrine, Every man for himself, andlively chat which occupied them; for when Tom related howhe had seen Mr Pecksniff’s daughters, and what a change had God for us all (there being high wisdom in the thought thatfallen on the younger, they were very serious.the Eternal Majesty of Heaven ever was, or can be, on the sideJohn Westlock became quite absorbed in her fortunes; askingmany questions of Tom Pinch about her marriage, in-sure of that, the time come home to him, when all his wis-of selfish lust and love!); shall never find, oh, never find, bequiring whether her husband was the gentleman whom Tom dom is an idiot’s folly, weighed against a simple heart!613

Martin ChuzzlewitWell, well, Tom, it was simple too, though simple in adifferent way, to be so eager touching that same theatre, ofCHAPTER FORTYwhich John said, when tea was done, he had the absolutecommand, so far as taking parties in without the payment ofTHE PINCHES MAKE A NEW ACQUAINasixpence was concerned; and simpler yet, perhaps, never toTANCE, AND HAVE FRESH OCCASIONsuspect that when he went in first, alone, he paid the money!FOR SURPRISE AND WONDERSimple in thee, dear Tom, to laugh and cry so heartily at sucha sorry show, so poorly shown; simple to be so happy andTHERE WAS A GHOSTLY air about these uninhabited chambersloquacious trudging home with Ruth; simple to be so surprisedto find that merry present of a cookery-book awaitingin the Temple, and attending every circumstance of Tom’semployment there, which had a strange charm in it. Everyher in the parlour next morning, with the beef-steak-pudding-leafturned down and blotted out. There! Let the recordmorning when he shut his door at Islington, he turned hisface towards an atmosphere of unaccountable fascination, asstand! Thy quality of soul was simple, simple, quite contemptible,Tom Pinch!surely as he turned it to the London smoke; and from thatmoment it thickened round and round him all day long, untilthe time arrived for going home again, and leaving it, likea motionless cloud, behind.It seemed to Tom, every morning, that he approached thisghostly mist, and became enveloped in it, by the easiest successionof degrees imaginable. Passing from the roar and rattleof the streets into the quiet court-yards of the Temple, wasthe first preparation. Every echo of his footsteps sounded to614

Charles Dickenshim like a sound from the old walls and pavements, wanting third person have devised these means of giving him employment.He found this idea so insupportable after what hadlanguage to relate the histories of the dim, dismal rooms; totell him what lost documents were decaying in forgotten cornersof the shut-up cellars, from whose lattices such mouldy fided it to John Westlock on the very same day; informingtaken place between that good man and himself, that he con-sighs came breathing forth as he went past; to whisper of dark John that he would rather ply for hire as a porter, than fall sobins of rare old wine, bricked up in vaults among the old low in his own esteem as to accept the smallest obligationfoundations of the Halls; or mutter in a lower tone yet darker from the hands of Mr Pecksniff. But John assured him thatlegends of the cross-legged knights, whose marble effigies were he (Tom Pinch) was far from doing justice to the character ofin the church. With the first planting of his foot upon the Mr Pecksniff yet, if he supposed that gentleman capable ofstaircase of his dusty office, all these mysteries increased; until,ascending step by step, as Tom ascended, they attained mind quite easy on that head until he saw the sun turn greenperforming a generous action; and that he might make histheir full growth in the solitary labours of the day.and the moon black, and at the same time distinctly perceivedwith the naked eye, twelve first-rate comets careeringEvery day brought one recurring, never-failing source ofspeculation. This employer; would he come to-day, and what round those planets. In which unusual state of things, he saidwould he be like? For Tom could not stop short at Mr Fips; (and not before), it might become not absolutely lunatic tohe quite believed that Mr Fips had spoken truly, when he said suspect Mr Pecksniff of anything so monstrous. In short hehe acted for another; and what manner of man that other laughed the idea down completely; and Tom, abandoning it,was, became a full-blown flower of wonder in the garden of was thrown upon his beam-ends again, for some other solution.Tom’s fancy, which never faded or got trodden down.At one time, he conceived that Mr Pecksniff, repenting of In the meantime Tom attended to his duties daily, and madehis falsehood, might, by exertion of his influence with some considerable progress with the books; which were already re-615

Martin Chuzzlewitduced to some sort of order, and made a great appearance in keep away, notwithstanding; that quality being with most ofhis fairly-written catalogue. During his business hours, he indulgedhimself occasionally with snatches of reading; which tion, but very weak as a preventive power. Misgivings, unde-us, in such a case, like the old French Police—quick at detec-were often, indeed, a necessary part of his pursuit; and as he fined, absurd, inexplicable, that there was some one hiding inusually made bold to carry one of these goblin volumes home the inner room—walking softly overhead, peeping in throughat night (always bringing it back again next morning, in case the door-chink, doing something stealthy, anywhere wherehis strange employer should appear and ask what had become he was not—came over him a hundred times a day, making itof it), he led a happy, quiet, studious kind of life, after his pleasant to throw up the sash, and hold communication evenown heart.with the sparrows who had built in the roof and water-spout,But though the books were never so interesting, and never and were twittering about the windows all day long.so full of novelty to Tom, they could not so enchain him, in He sat with the outer door wide open, at all times, that hethose mysterious chambers, as to render him unconscious, might hear the footsteps as they entered, and turned off intofor a moment, of the lightest sound. Any footstep on the the chambers on the lower floor. He formed odd prepossessionstoo, regarding strangers in the streets; and would sayflags without set him listening attentively and when it turnedinto that house, and came up, up, up the stairs, he always within himself of such or such a man, who struck him asthought with a beating heart, ‘Now I am coming face to face having anything uncommon in his dress or aspect, ‘I shouldn’twith him at last!’ But no footstep ever passed the floor immediatelybelow: except his own.he actually turned back and followed more than one of thesewonder, now, if that were he!’ But it never was. And thoughThis mystery and loneliness engendered fancies in Tom’s suspected individuals, in a singular belief that they were goingmind, the folly of which his common sense could readily to the place he was then upon his way from, he never got anydiscover, but which his common sense was quite unable to other satisfaction by it, than the satisfaction of knowing it616

Charles Dickenswas not the case.done so far, is done to his satisfaction,’ faltered Tom.Mr Fips, of Austin Friars, rather deepened than illumined ‘Quite right,’ said Mr Fips, with a yawn. ‘Highly creditable.Very proper.’the obscurity of his position; for on the first occasion of Tom’swaiting on him to receive his weekly pay, he said:Tom hastily resolved to try him on another tack.‘Oh! by the bye, Mr Pinch, you needn’t mention it, if you ‘I shall soon have finished with the books,’ he said. ‘I hopeplease!’that will not terminate my engagement, sir, or render me useless?’Tom thought he was going to tell him a secret; so he saidthat he wouldn’t on any account, and that Mr Fips might ‘Oh dear no!’ retorted Fips. ‘Plenty to do; plen-ty to do! Beentirely depend upon him. But as Mr Fips said ‘Very good,’ careful how you go. It’s rather dark.’in reply, and nothing more, Tom prompted him:This was the very utmost extent of information Tom could‘Not on any account,’ repeated Tom.ever get out of him. So it was dark enough in all conscience;Mr Fips repeated: ‘Very good.’and if Mr Fips expressed himself with a double meaning, he‘You were going to say’—Tom hinted.had good reason for doing so.‘Oh dear no!’ cried Fips. ‘Not at all.’ However, seeing Tom But now a circumstance occurred, which helped to divertconfused, he added, ‘I mean that you needn’t mention any Tom’s thoughts from even this mystery, and to divide themparticulars about your place of employment, to people generally.You’ll find it better not.’The way it came about was this. Having always been anbetween it and a new channel, which was a very Nile in itself.‘I have not had the pleasure of seeing my employer yet, sir,’ early riser and having now no organ to engage him in sweetobserved Tom, putting his week’s salary in his pocket. converse every morning, it was his habit to take a long walk‘Haven’t you?’ said Fips. ‘No, I don’t suppose you have though.’ before going to the Temple; and naturally inclining, as a‘I should like to thank him, and to know that what I have stranger, towards those parts of the town which were con-617

Martin Chuzzlewitspicuous for the life and animation pervading them, he becamea great frequenter of the market-places, bridges, quays, which the dainty shops were fortified as with a breastwork;looking unutterable things at the fat bundles of asparagus withand especially the steam-boat wharves; for it was very lively and, at the herbalist’s doors, gratefully inhaling scents as ofand fresh to see the people hurrying away upon their many veal-stuffing yet uncooked, dreamily mixed up with capsicums,brown-paper, seeds, even with hints of lusty snails andschemes of business or pleasure, and it made Tom glad tothink that there was that much change and freedom in the fine young curly leeches. Many and many a pleasant strollmonotonous routine of city lives.they had among the poultry markets, where ducks and fowls,In most of these morning excursions Ruth accompanied with necks unnaturally long, lay stretched out in pairs, readyhim. As their landlord was always up and away at his business for cooking; where there were speckled eggs in mossy baskets,white country sausages beyond impeachment by surviv-(whatever that might be, no one seemed to know) at a veryearly hour, the habits of the people of the house in which ing cat or dog, or horse or donkey; new cheeses to any wildthey lodged corresponded with their own. Thus they had oftenfinished their breakfast, and were out in the summer air, be natural, in consequence of those receptacles being muchextent, live birds in coops and cages, looking much too big toby seven o’clock. After a two hours’ stroll they parted at some too little; rabbits, alive and dead, innumerable. Many a pleasantstroll they had among the cool, refreshing, silvery fish-convenient point; Tom going to the Temple, and his sisterreturning home, as methodically as you please.stalls, with a kind of moonlight effect about their stock-intrade,excepting always for the ruddy lobsters. Many a pleas-Many and many a pleasant stroll they had in Covent GardenMarket; snuffing up the perfume of the fruits and flowers,wondering at the magnificence of the pineapples and which dogs and tired waggoners lay fast asleep, oblivious ofant stroll among the waggon-loads of fragrant hay, beneathmelons; catching glimpses down side avenues, of rows and the pieman and the public-house. But never half so good arows of old women, seated on inverted baskets, shelling peas; stroll as down among the steamboats on a bright morning.618

Charles DickensThere they lay, alongside of each other; hard and fast for are do make haste I’m off directly come along!’ever, to all appearance, but designing to get out somehow, Even when they had left off, and had got safely out into theand quite confident of doing it; and in that faith shoals of current, on the smallest provocation they began again; for thepassengers, and heaps of luggage, were proceeding hurriedly bravest packet of them all, being stopped by some entanglementin the river, would immediately begin to fume and panton board. Little steam-boats dashed up and down the streamincessantly. Tiers upon tiers of vessels, scores of masts, labyrinthsof tackle, idle sails, splashing oars, gliding row-boats, I’m in a hurry it’s done on purpose did you ever oh my good-afresh, ‘oh here’s a stoppage what’s the matter do go on therelumbering barges, sunken piles, with ugly lodgings for the ness do go on here!’ and so, in a state of mind bordering onwater-rat within their mud-discoloured nooks; church steeples, distraction, would be last seen drifting slowly through thewarehouses, house-roofs, arches, bridges, men and women, mist into the summer light beyond, that made it red.children, casks, cranes, boxes horses, coaches, idlers, and hardlabourers;there they were, all jumbled up together, any sum-Tom and his sister took the greatest interest on one particularTom’s ship, however; or, at least, the packet-boat in whichmer morning, far beyond Tom’s power of separation. occasion; was not off yet, by any means; but was at the heightIn the midst of all this turmoil there was an incessant roar of its disorder. The press of passengers was very great; anotherfrom every packet’s funnel, which quite expressed and carried steam-boat lay on each side of her; the gangways were chokedout the uppermost emotion of the scene. They all appeared up; distracted women, obviously bound for Gravesend, butto be perspiring and bothering themselves, exactly as their turning a deaf ear to all representations that this particular vesselwas about to sail for Antwerp, persisted in secreting basketspassengers did; they never left off fretting and chafing, in theirown hoarse manner, once; but were always panting out, without of refreshments behind bulk-heads, and water-casks, and underany stops, ‘Come along do make haste I’m very nervous come seats; and very great confusion prevailed.along oh good gracious we shall never get there how late you It was so amusing, that Tom, with Ruth upon his arm,619

Martin Chuzzlewitstood looking down from the wharf, as nearly regardless as it the constabulary—and went on to say, shaking the handle ofwas in the nature of flesh and blood to be, of an elderly lady the umbrella at Tom, that but for them fellers never being inbehind him, who had brought a large umbrella with her, and the way when they was wanted, she’d have given him in charge,didn’t know what to do with it. This tremendous instrument she would.had a hooked handle; and its vicinity was first made known ‘If they greased their whiskers less, and minded the dutiesto him by a painful pressure on the windpipe, consequent which they’re paid so heavy for, a little more,’ she observed,upon its having caught him round the throat. Soon after disengaginghimself with perfect good humour, he had a sensa-She had been grievously knocked about, no doubt, for her‘no one needn’t be drove mad by scrouding so!’tion of the ferule in his back; immediately afterwards, of the bonnet was bent into the shape of a cocked hat. Being a fathook entangling his ankles; then of the umbrella generally, little woman, too, she was in a state of great exhaustion andwandering about his hat, and flapping at it like a great bird; intense heat. Instead of pursuing the altercation, therefore,and, lastly, of a poke or thrust below the ribs, which give him Tom civilly inquired what boat she wanted to go on boardsuch exceeding anguish, that he could not refrain from turninground to offer a mild remonstrance.‘I suppose,’ returned the lady, ‘as nobody but yourself canof?Upon his turning round, he found the owner of the umbrellastruggling on tip-toe, with a countenance expressive of boarding of it, can they! Booby!’want to look at a steam package, without wanting to go a-violent animosity, to look down upon the steam-boats; from ‘Which one do you want to look at then?’ said Tom. ‘We’llwhich he inferred that she had attacked him, standing in the make room for you if we can. Don’t be so ill-tempered.’front row, by design, and as her natural enemy.‘No blessed creetur as ever I was with in trying times,’ returnedthe lady, somewhat softened, ‘and they’re a many in‘What a very ill-natured person you must be!’ said Tom.The lady cried out fiercely, ‘Where’s the pelisse!’—meaning their numbers, ever brought it as a charge again myself that I620

Charles Dickenswas anythin’ but mild and equal in my spirits. Never mind a miraculous aspiration.contradicting of me, if you seem to feel it does you good, Ruth said nothing in reply; but, as Mrs Gamp, laying herma’am, I often says, for well you know that Sairey may be chin against the cool iron of the rail, continued to look intentlyat the Antwerp boat, and every now and then to give atrusted not to give it back again. But I will not denige that Iam worrited and wexed this day, and with good reagion, Lord little groan, she inquired whether any child of hers was goingforbid!’aboard that morning? Or perhaps her husband, she said kindly.By this time, Mrs Gamp (for it was no other than that ‘Which shows,’ said Mrs Gamp, casting up her eyes, ‘whatexperienced practitioner) had, with Tom’s assistance, squeezed a little way you’ve travelled into this wale of life, my dearand worked herself into a small corner between Ruth and the young creetur! As a good friend of mine has frequent maderail; where, after breathing very hard for some little time, and remark to me, which her name, my love, is Harris, Mrs Harristhrough the square and up the steps a-turnin’ round by theperforming a short series of dangerous evolutions with herumbrella, she managed to establish herself pretty comfortably.afore us!” “Mrs Harris, ma’am,” I says, “not much, it’s true,tobacker shop, “Oh Sairey, Sairey, little do we know wot lays‘And which of all them smoking monsters is the Ankworks but more than you suppoge. Our calcilations, ma’am,” I says,boat, I wonder. Goodness me!’ cried Mrs Gamp.“respectin’ wot the number of a family will be, comes most‘What boat did you want?’ asked Ruth.times within one, and oftener than you would suppoge, exact.”“Sairey,” says Mrs Harris, in a awful way, “Tell me wot is‘The Ankworks package,’ Mrs Gamp replied. ‘I will notdeceive you, my sweet. Why should I?’my indiwidgle number.” “No, Mrs Harris,” I says to her, “excugeme, if you please. My own,” I says, “has fallen out of‘That is the Antwerp packet in the middle,’ said Ruth.‘And I wish it was in Jonadge’s belly, I do,’ cried Mrs Gamp; three-pair backs, and had damp doorsteps settled on theirappearing to confound the prophet with the whale in this lungs, and one was turned up smilin’ in a bedstead unbe-621

Martin Chuzzlewitknown. Therefore, ma’am,” I says, “seek not to proticipate, young creetur a-comin’ down this mornin’ to that very package,which is no more fit to trust herself to sea, than nothin’but take ‘em as they come and as they go.” Mine,’ says MrsGamp, ‘mine is all gone, my dear young chick. And as to is!’husbands, there’s a wooden leg gone likeways home to its She paused here to look over the deck of the packet in question,and on the steps leading down to it, and on the gang-account, which in its constancy of walkin’ into wine vaults,and never comin’ out again ‘till fetched by force, was quite as ways. Seeming to have thus assured herself that the object ofweak as flesh, if not weaker.’her commiseration had not yet arrived, she raised her eyesWhen she had delivered this oration, Mrs Gamp leaned her gradually up to the top of the escape-pipe, and indignantlychin upon the cool iron again; and looking intently at the apostrophised the vessel:Antwerp packet, shook her head and groaned.‘Oh, drat you!’ said Mrs Gamp, shaking her umbrella at it,‘I wouldn’t,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘I wouldn’t be a man and ‘you’re a nice spluttering nisy monster for a delicate younghave such a think upon my mind!—but nobody as owned creetur to go and be a passinger by; ain’t you! you never do nothe name of man, could do it!’harm in that way, do you? With your hammering, and roaring,and hissing, and lamp-iling, you brute! Them ConfugionTom and his sister glanced at each other; and Ruth, after amoment’s hesitation, asked Mrs Gamp what troubled her so steamers,’ said Mrs Gamp, shaking her umbrella again, ‘hasmuch.done more to throw us out of our reg’lar work and bring‘My dear,’ returned that lady, dropping her voice, ‘you are ewents on at times when nobody counted on ‘em (especiallysingle, ain’t you?’them screeching railroad ones), than all the other frights thatRuth laughed blushed, and said ‘Yes.’ever was took. I have heerd of one young man, a guard upon‘Worse luck,’ proceeded Mrs Gamp, ‘for all parties! But a railway, only three years opened—well does Mrs Harris knowothers is married, and in the marriage state; and there is a dear him, which indeed he is her own relation by her sister’s mar-622

Charles Dickensriage with a master sawyer—as is godfather at this present much interested?’time to six-and-twenty blessed little strangers, equally unexpected,and all on ‘um named after the Ingeines as was the the little wooden bridge at this minute. She’s a-slippin’ on a‘There!’ groaned Mrs Gamp. ‘There she goes! A-crossin’cause. Ugh!’ said Mrs Gamp, resuming her apostrophe, ‘one bit of orangepeel!’ tightly clutching her umbrella. ‘What amight easy know you was a man’s inwention, from your turn it give me.’disregardlessness of the weakness of our naturs, so one might, ‘Do you mean the lady who is with that man wrapped upyou brute!’from head to foot in a large cloak, so that his face is almostIt would not have been unnatural to suppose, from the first hidden?’part of Mrs Gamp’s lamentations, that she was connected ‘Well he may hide it!’ Mrs Gamp replied. ‘He’s good call to bewith the stage-coaching or post-horsing trade. She had no ashamed of himself. Did you see him a-jerking of her wrist, then?’means of judging of the effect of her concluding remarks upon ‘He seems to be hasty with her, indeed.’her young companion; for she interrupted herself at this point, ‘Now he’s a-taking of her down into the close cabin!’ saidand exclaimed:Mrs Gamp, impatiently. ‘What’s the man about! The deuce‘There she identically goes! Poor sweet young creetur, there is in him, I think. Why can’t he leave her in the open air?’she goes, like a lamb to the sacrifige! If there’s any illness when He did not, whatever his reason was, but led her quicklythat wessel gets to sea,’ said Mrs Gamp, prophetically, ‘it’s down and disappeared himself, without loosening his cloak,murder, and I’m the witness for the persecution.’or pausing on the crowded deck one moment longer thanShe was so very earnest on the subject, that Tom’s sister (being was necessary to clear their way to that part of the vessel.as kind as Tom himself) could not help saying something to her Tom had not heard this little dialogue; for his attentionin reply.had been engaged in an unexpected manner. A hand upon his‘Pray, which is the lady,’ she inquired, ‘in whom you are so sleeve had caused him to look round, just when Mrs Gamp623

Martin Chuzzlewitconcluded her apostrophe to the steam-engine; and on his black shawl! Let me see!’right arm, Ruth being on his left, he found their landlord, to ‘Yes, yes!’ replied the other, with keen impatience. ‘A gentlemanmuffled up from head to foot—strangely muffled uphis great surprise.He was not so much surprised at the man’s being there, as for such a morning as this—like an invalid, with his hand toat his having got close to him so quietly and swiftly; for anotherperson had been at his elbow one instant before; and he added, following Tom’s gaze; ‘the other way; in that direc-his face at this minute, perhaps. No, no, no! not there,’ hehad not in the meantime been conscious of any change or tion; down yonder.’ Again he indicated, but this time in hispressure in the knot of people among whom he stood. He hurry, with his outstretched finger, the very spot on whichand Ruth had frequently remarked how noiselessly this landlordof theirs came into and went out of his own house; but ‘There are so many people, and so much motion, and sothe progress of these persons was checked at that moment.Tom was not the less amazed to see him at his elbow now. many objects,’ said Tom, ‘that I find it difficult to—no, I‘I beg your pardon, Mr Pinch,’ he said in his ear. ‘I am really don’t see a gentleman in a large cloak, and a lady in arather infirm, and out of breath, and my eyes are not very black shawl. There’s a lady in a red shawl over there!’good. I am not as young as I was, sir. You don’t see a gentlemanin a large cloak down yonder, with a lady on his arm; a there. The other way; the other way. Look at the cabin steps.‘No, no, no!’ cried his landlord, pointing eagerly again, ‘notlady in a veil and a black shawl; do you?’To the left. They must be near the cabin steps. Do you see theIf he did not, it was curious that in speaking he should have cabin steps? There’s the bell ringing already! Do you see thesingled out from all the crowd the very people whom he described;and should have glanced hastily from them to Tom, ‘Stay!’ said Tom, ‘you’re right. Look! there they go now. Issteps?’as if he were burning to direct his wandering eyes.that the gentleman you mean? Descending at this minute,‘A gentleman in a large cloak!’ said Tom, ‘and a lady in a with the folds of a great cloak trailing down after him?’624

Charles Dickens‘The very man!’ returned the other, not looking at what reached the right one with good speed, and going down theTom pointed out, however, but at Tom’s own face. ‘Will you cabin-stairs immediately, described the object of his searchdo me a kindness, sir, a great kindness? Will you put that standing at the upper end of the saloon, with his back towardshim, reading some notice which was hung against theletter in his hand? Only give him that! He expects it. I amcharged to do it by my employers, but I am late in finding wall. As Tom advanced to give him the letter, he started, hearingfootsteps, and turned round.him, and, not being as young as I have been, should never beable to make my way on board and off the deck again in What was Tom’s astonishment to find in him the man withtime. Will you pardon my boldness, and do me that great whom he had had the conflict in the field—poor Mercy’skindness?’husband. Jonas!His hands shook, and his face bespoke the utmost interest Tom understood him to say, what the devil did he want;and agitation, as he pressed the letter upon Tom, and pointed but it was not easy to make out what he said; he spoke soto its destination, like the Tempter in some grim old carving. indistinctly.To hesitate in the performance of a good-natured or compassionateoffice was not in Tom’s way. He took the letter; asked, a moment since, to give you this letter. You were‘I want nothing with you for myself,’ said Tom; ‘I waswhispered Ruth to wait till he returned, which would be immediately;and ran down the steps with all the expedition he dress. Take it!’pointed out to me, but I didn’t know you in your strangecould make. There were so many people going down, so many He did so, opened it, and read the writing on the inside.others coming up, such heavy goods in course of transit to The contents were evidently very brief; not more perhaps thanand fro, such a ringing of bell, blowing-off of steam, and one line; but they struck upon him like a stone from a sling.shouting of men’s voices, that he had much ado to force his He reeled back as he read.way, or keep in mind to which boat he was going. But he His emotion was so different from any Tom had ever seen625

Martin Chuzzlewitbefore that he stopped involuntarily. Momentary as his state over the side, along the crazy plank, and up the steps, he draggedof indecision was, the bell ceased while he stood there, and a her fiercely; not bestowing any look on her, but gazing upwardsall the while among the faces on the wharf. Suddenly hehoarse voice calling down the steps, inquired if there was anyto go ashore?turned again, and said to Tom with a tremendous oath:‘Yes,’ cried Jonas, ‘I—I am coming. Give me time. Where’s ‘Where is he?’that woman! Come back; come back here.’Before Tom, in his indignation and amazement, could returnan answer to a question he so little understood, a gentle-He threw open another door as he spoke, and dragged, ratherthan led, her forth. She was pale and frightened, and amazed man approached Tom behind, and saluted Jonas Chuzzlewitto see her old acquaintance; but had no time to speak, for by name. He has a gentleman of foreign appearance, with athey were making a great stir above; and Jonas drew her rapidlytowards the deck.composure, strangely different from his own distracted andblack moustache and whiskers; and addressed him with a polite‘Where are we going? What is the matter?’desperate manner.‘We are going back,’ said Jonas. ‘I have changed my mind. ‘Chuzzlewit, my good fellow!’ said the gentleman, raisingI can’t go. Don’t question me, or I shall be the death of you, his hat in compliment to Mrs Chuzzlewit, ‘I ask your pardonor some one else. Stop there! Stop! We’re for the shore. Do twenty thousand times. I am most unwilling to interfere betweenyou and a domestic trip of this nature (always so veryyou hear? We’re for the shore!’He turned, even in the madness of his hurry, and scowling charming and refreshing, I know, although I have not thedarkly back at Tom, shook his clenched hand at him. There happiness to be a domestic man myself, which is the greatare not many human faces capable of the expression with infelicity of my existence); but the beehive, my dear friend,which he accompanied that gesture.the beehive—will you introduce me?’He dragged her up, and Tom followed them. Across the deck, ‘This is Mr Montague,’ said Jonas, whom the words ap-626

Charles Dickenspeared to choke.entertained, ‘you’re too pale by half!’‘The most unhappy and most penitent of men, Mrs ‘You are here too, are you?’ muttered Jonas. ‘Ecod, there areChuzzlewit,’ pursued that gentleman, ‘for having been the enough of you.’means of spoiling this excursion; but as I tell my friend, the ‘I hope, sir,’ returned Mrs Gamp, dropping an indignant curtsey,‘as no bones is broke by me and Mrs Harris a-walkin’ downbeehive, the beehive. You projected a short little continentaltrip, my dear friend, of course?’upon a public wharf. Which was the very words she says to meJonas maintained a dogged silence.(although they was the last I ever had to speak) was these:‘May I die,’ cried Montague, ‘but I am shocked! Upon my “Sairey,” she says, “is it a public wharf?” Mrs Harris,” I makessoul I am shocked. But that confounded beehive of ours in the answer, “can you doubt it? You have know’d me now, ma’am,city must be paramount to every other consideration, when eight and thirty year; and did you ever know me go, or wish tothere is honey to be made; and that is my best excuse. Here is a go, where I was not made welcome, say the words.” “No, Sairey,”very singular old female dropping curtseys on my right,’ said Mrs Harris says, “contrairy quite.” And well she knows it too. IMontague, breaking off in his discourse, and looking at Mrs am but a poor woman, but I’ve been sought after, sir, thoughGamp, ‘who is not a friend of mine. Does anybody know her?’ you may not think it. I’ve been knocked up at all hours of the‘Ah! Well they knows me, bless their precious hearts!’ said Mrs night, and warned out by a many landlords, in consequence ofGamp, ‘not forgettin’ your own merry one, sir, and long may it be being mistook for Fire. I goes out workin’ for my bread, ’tisso! Wishin’ as every one’ (she delivered this in the form of a toast or true, but I maintains my independency, with your kind leave,sentiment) ‘was as merry, and as handsome-lookin’, as a little bird and which I will till death. I has my feelins as a woman, sir, andhas whispered me a certain gent is, which I will not name for fear I I have been a mother likeways; but touch a pipkin as belongs togive offence where none is doo! My precious lady,’ here she stopped me, or make the least remarks on what I eats or drinks, andshort in her merriment, for she had until now affected to be vastly though you was the favouritest young for’ard hussy of a ser-627

Martin Chuzzlewitvant-gal as ever come into a house, either you leaves the place, moment’s silence:or me. My earnins is not great, sir, but I will not be impoged ‘The necessity is none of my making. You have brought itupon. Bless the babe, and save the mother, is my mortar, sir; about yourself.’but I makes so free as add to that, Don’t try no impogician He said nothing more. He said even this as if he were bound,with the Nuss, for she will not abear it!’and in the other’s power, but had a sullen and suppressedMrs Gamp concluded by drawing her shawl tightly over devil within him, which he could not quite resist. His veryherself with both hands, and, as usual, referring to Mrs Harris gait, as they walked away together, was like that of a fetteredfor full corroboration of these particulars. She had that peculiartrembling of the head which, in ladies of her excitable brows, and fast-set lips, was the same imprisoned devil still.man; but, striving to work out at his clenched hands, knittednature, may be taken as a sure indication of their breaking out They got into a handsome cabriolet which was waiting foragain very shortly; when Jonas made a timely interposition. them and drove away.‘As you are here,’ he said, ‘you had better see to her, and The whole of this extraordinary scene had passed so rapidlytake her home. I am otherwise engaged.’ He said nothing and the tumult which prevailed around as so unconscious of anymore; but looked at Montague as if to give him notice that impression from it, that, although Tom had been one of thehe was ready to attend him.chief actors, it was like a dream. No one had noticed him after‘I am sorry to take you away,’ said Montague.they had left the packet. He had stood behind Jonas, and so nearJonas gave him a sinister look, which long lived in Tom’s him, that he could not help hearing all that passed. He had stoodmemory, and which he often recalled afterwards.there, with his sister on his arm, expecting and hoping to have an‘I am, upon my life,’ said Montague. ‘Why did you make it opportunity of explaining his strange share in this yet strangernecessary?’business. But Jonas had not raised his eyes from the ground; noWith the same dark glance as before, Jonas replied, after a one else had even looked towards him; and before he could re-628

Charles Dickenssolve on any course of action, they were all gone.der.He gazed round for his landlord. But he had done that Had Mr Nadgett appointed the man who never came, tomore than once already, and no such man was to be seen. He meet him upon London Bridge that morning? He was certainlylooking over the parapet, and down upon the steam-was still pursuing this search with his eyes, when he saw ahand beckoning to him from a hackney-coach; and hurrying boat-wharf at that moment. It could not have been for pleasure;he never took pleasure. No. He must have had sometowards it, found it was Merry’s. She addressed him hurriedly,but bent out of the window, that she might not be overheard business there.by her companion, Mrs Gamp.‘What is it?’ she said. ‘Good heaven, what is it? Why did heCHAPTER FORTY-ONEtell me last night to prepare for a long journey, and why haveyou brought us back like criminals? Dear Mr Pinch!’ she claspedMR JONAS AND HIS FRIEND, ARRIVINGher hands distractedly, ‘be merciful to us. Whatever this dreadfulsecret is, be merciful, and God will bless you!’AT A PLEASANT UNDERSTANDING, SETFORTH UPON AN ENTERPRISE‘If any power of mercy lay with me,’ cried Tom, ‘trust me,you shouldn’t ask in vain. But I am far more ignorant and weakTHE OFFICE OF THE Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan andthan you.’Life Assurance Company being near at hand, and MrShe withdrew into the coach again, and he saw the handMontague driving Jonas straight there, they had very littlewaving towards him for a moment; but whether in reproachfulnessor incredulity or misery, or grief, or sad adieu, or whatway to go. But the journey might have been one of severalhours’ duration, without provoking a remark from either;else, he could not, being so hurried, understand. SHE wasfor it was clear that Jonas did not mean to break the silencegone now; and Ruth and he were left to walk away, and won-which prevailed between them, and that it was not, as yet, his629

Martin Chuzzlewitdear friend’s cue to tempt them into conversation.self-possessed now; unnaturally self-possessed, indeed, as menHe had thrown aside his cloak, as having now no motive for quite otherwise than brave are known to be in desperate extremities;and when the carriage stopped, he waited for noconcealment, and with that garment huddled on his knees, satas far removed from his companion as the limited space in such invitation, but leapt hardily out, and went upstairs.a carriage would allow. There was a striking difference in his The chairman followed him; and closing the board-roommanner, compared with what it had been, within a few minutes,when Tom encountered him so unexpectedly on board Jonas stood before the window, looking down into the street;door as soon as they had entered, threw himself upon a sofa.the packet, or when the ugly change had fallen on him in Mr and leaned against the sash, resting his head upon his arms.Montague’s dressing-room. He had the aspect of a man found ‘This is not handsome, Chuzzlewit!’ said Montague atout and held at bay; of being baffled, hunted, and beset; but length. ‘Not handsome upon my soul!’there was now a dawning and increasing purpose in his face, ‘What would you have me do?’ he answered, looking roundwhich changed it very much. It was gloomy, distrustful, lowering;pale with anger and defeat; it still was humbled, abject, ‘Confidence, my good fellow. Some confidence!’ saidabruptly; ‘What do you expect?’cowardly and mean; but, let the conflict go on as it would, Montague in an injured tone.there was one strong purpose wrestling with every emotion of ‘Ecod! You show great confidence in me,’ retorted Jonas. ‘Don’this mind, and casting the whole series down as they arose. you?’Not prepossessing in appearance at the best of times, it may ‘Do I not?’ said his companion, raising his head, and lookingat him, but he had turned again. ‘Do I not? Have I notbe readily supposed that he was not so now. He had left deepmarks of his front teeth in his nether lip; and those tokens of confided to you the easy schemes I have formed for our advantage;our advantage, mind; not mine alone; and what isthe agitation he had lately undergone improved his looks aslittle as the heavy corrugations in his forehead. But he was my return? Attempted flight!’630

Charles Dickens‘How do you know that? Who said I meant to fly?’ ered—’‘Who said? Come, come. A foreign boat, my friend, an ‘Will you hold your tongue?’ said Jonas, looking fiercelyearly hour, a figure wrapped up for disguise! Who said? If you round, and glancing at the door.didn’t mean to jilt me, why were you there? If you didn’t ‘Well, well!’ said Montague. ‘Judicious! Quite correct! Mymean to jilt me, why did you come back?’discoveries being published, would be like many other men’s‘I came back,’ said Jonas, ‘to avoid disturbance.’discoveries in this honest world; of no further use to me. You‘You were wise,’ rejoined his friend.see, Chuzzlewit, how ingenuous and frank I am in showingJonas stood quite silent; still looking down into the street, you the weakness of my own position! To return. I make, orand resting his head upon his arms.think I make, a certain discovery which I take an early opportunityof mentioning in your ear, in that spirit of confidence‘Now, Chuzzlewit,’ said Montague, ‘notwithstanding whathas passed I will be plain with you. Are you attending to me which I really hoped did prevail between us, and was reciprocatedby you. Perhaps there is something in it; perhaps there isthere? I only see your back.’‘I hear you. Go on!’nothing. I have my knowledge and opinion on the subject.‘I say that notwithstanding what has passed, I will be plain You have yours. We will not discuss the question. But, mywith you.’good fellow, you have been weak; what I wish to point out to‘You said that before. And I have told you once I heard you you is, that you have been weak. I may desire to turn this littlesay it. Go on.’incident to my account (indeed, I do—I’ll not deny it), but my‘You are a little chafed, but I can make allowance for that, account does not lie in probing it, or using it against you.’and am, fortunately, myself in the very best of tempers. Now, ‘What do you call using it against me?’ asked Jonas, wholet us see how circumstances stand. A day or two ago, I mentionedto you, my dear fellow, that I thought I had discov-‘Oh!’ said Montague, with a laugh. ‘We’ll not enterhad not yet changed his attitude.into631

Martin Chuzzlewitthat.’man of your intelligence I make that free confession. I am‘Using it to make a beggar of me. Is that the use you mean?’ not at all singular in that infirmity. Everybody profits by the‘No.’indiscretion of his neighbour; and the people in the best repute,the most. Why do you give me this trouble? It must‘Ecod,’ muttered Jonas, bitterly. ‘That’s the use in whichyour account does lie. You speak the truth there.’come to a friendly agreement, or an unfriendly crash. It must.‘I wish you to venture (it’s a very safe venture) a little more If the former, you are very little hurt. If the latter—well! youwith us, certainly, and to keep quiet,’ said Montague. ‘You know best what is likely to happen then.’promised me you would; and you must. I say it plainly, Jonas left the window, and walked up close to him. He didChuzzlewit, you must. Reason the matter. If you don’t, my not look him in the face; it was not his habit to do that; butsecret is worthless to me: and being so, it may as well become he kept his eyes towards him—on his breast, or thereabouts—the public property as mine; better, for I shall gain some credit, and was at great pains to speak slowly and distinctly in reply.bringing it to light. I want you, besides, to act as a decoy in a Just as a man in a state of conscious drunkenness might be.case I have already told you of. You don’t mind that, I know. ‘Lying is of no use now,’ he said. ‘I did think of gettingYou care nothing for the man (you care nothing for any man; away this morning, and making better terms with you from ayou are too sharp; so am I, I hope); and could bear any loss of distance.’his with pious fortitude. Ha, ha, ha! You have tried to escape ‘To be sure! to be sure!’ replied Montague. ‘Nothing morefrom the first consequence. You cannot escape it, I assure you. natural. I foresaw that, and provided against it. But I am afraidI have shown you that to-day. Now, I am not a moral man, I am interrupting you.’you know. I am not the least in the world affected by anythingyou may have done; by any little indiscretion you may ‘you made choice of your messenger, and where you found‘How the devil,’ pursued Jonas, with a still greater effort,have committed; but I wish to profit by it if I can; and to a him, I’ll not ask you. I owed him one good turn before to-632

Charles Dickensday. If you are so careless of men in general, as you said you false. Whichever it is, I dare say I’m no worse than other men.’were just now, you are quite indifferent to what becomes of ‘Not a bit,’ said Tigg. ‘Not a bit. We’re all alike—or nearlysuch a crop-tailed cur as that, and will leave me to settle my so.’account with him in my own manner.’‘I want to know this,’ Jonas went on to say; ‘is it your own?If he had raised his eyes to his companion’s face, he would You’ll not wonder at my asking the question.’have seen that Montague was evidently unable to comprehendhis meaning. But continuing to stand before him, with ‘Aye!’ returned the other, gruffly. ‘Is it known to anybody‘My own!’ repeated Montague.his furtive gaze directed as before, and pausing here only to else? Come! Don’t waver about that.’moisten his dry lips with his tongue, the fact was lost upon ‘No!’ said Montague, without the smallest hesitation. ‘Whathim. It might have struck a close observer that this fixed and would it be worth, do you think, unless I had the keeping ofsteady glance of Jonas’s was a part of the alteration which had it?’taken place in his demeanour. He kept it riveted on one spot, Now, for the first time, Jonas looked at him. After a pause,with which his thoughts had manifestly nothing to do; like he put out his hand, and said, with a laugh:as a juggler walking on a cord or wire to any dangerous end, ‘Come! make things easy to me, and I’m yours. I don’tholds some object in his sight to steady him, and never wandersfrom it, lest he trip.gone away this morning. But here I am, and here I’ll stayknow that I may not be better off here, after all, than if I hadMontague was quick in his rejoinder, though he made it at now. Take your oath!’a venture. There was no difference of opinion between him He cleared his throat, for he was speaking hoarsely and saidand his friend on that point. Not the least.in a lighter tone:‘Your great discovery,’ Jonas proceeded, with a savage sneer that ‘Shall I go to Pecksniff? When? Say when!’got the better of him for the moment, ‘may be true, and may be ‘Immediately!’ cried Montague. ‘He cannot be enticed too633

Martin Chuzzlewitsoon.’men a day! Would your father know you? Did I know you?‘Ecod!’ cried Jonas, with a wild laugh. ‘There’s some fun in Ecod! You were another figure when I saw you first. Ha, ha,catching that old hypocrite. I hate him. Shall I go to-night?’ ha! I see the rents and patches now! No false hair then, no‘Aye! This,’ said Montague, ecstatically, ‘is like business! We black dye! You were another sort of joker in those days, youunderstand each other now! To-night, my good fellow, by all were! You even spoke different then. You’ve acted the gentlemanso seriously since, that you’ve taken in yourself. If hemeans.’‘Come with me,’ cried Jonas. ‘We must make a dash; go should know you, what does it matter? Such a change is adown in state, and carry documents, for he’s a deep file to proof of your success. You know that, or you would not havedeal with, and must be drawn on with an artful hand, or he’ll made yourself known to me. Will you come?’not follow. I know him. As I can’t take your lodgings or your ‘My good fellow,’ said Montague, still hesitating, ‘I candinners down, I must take you. Will you come to-night?’ trust you alone.’His friend appeared to hesitate; and neither to have anticipatedthis proposal, nor to relish it very much.to go away no more—no more!’ He stopped, and added in a‘Trust me! Ecod, you may trust me now, far enough. I’ll try‘We can concert our plans upon the road,’ said Jonas. ‘We more sober tone, ‘I can’t get on without you. Will you come?’must not go direct to him, but cross over from some other ‘I will,’ said Montague, ‘if that’s your opinion.’ And theyplace, and turn out of our way to see him. I may not want to shook hands upon it.introduce you, but I must have you on the spot. I know the The boisterous manner which Jonas had exhibited duringman, I tell you.’the latter part of this conversation, and which had gone on‘But what if the man knows me?’ said Montague, shrugginghis shoulders.from the time when he looked his honourable friend in therapidly increasing with almost every word he had spoken,‘He know!’ cried Jonas. ‘Don’t you run that risk with fifty face until now, did not now subside, but, remaining at its634

Charles Dickensheight, abided by him. Most unusual with him at any period; his luggage back, with a short note from that other piece ofmost inconsistent with his temper and constitution; especially luggage, his wife, expressive of her wish to be allowed to comeunnatural it would appear in one so darkly circumstanced; it and see him for a moment. To this request he sent for answer,abided by him. It was not like the effect of wine, or any ardentdrink, for he was perfectly coherent. It even made him sufficient, in defiance of the English grammar, to express a‘she had better;’ and one such threatening affirmative beingproof against the usual influence of such means of excitement;for, although he drank deeply several times that day, Mr Montague being much engaged in the course of thenegative, she kept away.with no reserve or caution, he remained exactly the same man, day, Jonas bestowed his spirits chiefly on the doctor, withand his spirits neither rose nor fell in the least observable degree.way thither, encountering Mr Nadgett in the outer room, hewhom he lunched in the medical officer’s own room. On hisDeciding, after some discussion, to travel at night, in order bantered that stealthy gentleman on always appearing anxiousto avoid him, and inquired if he were afraid of him. Mrthat the day’s business might not be broken in upon, theytook counsel together in reference to the means. Mr Montague Nadgett slyly answered, ‘No, but he believed it must be hisbeing of opinion that four horses were advisable, at all events way as he had been charged with much the same kind offor the first stage, as throwing a great deal of dust into people’s thing before.’eyes, in more senses than one, a travelling chariot and four lay Mr Montague was listening to, or, to speak with greater elegance,he overheard, this dialogue. As soon as Jonas was goneunder orders for nine o’clock. Jonas did not go home; observing,that his being obliged to leave town on business in so he beckoned Nadgett to him with the feather of his pen, andgreat a hurry, would be a good excuse for having turned back whispered in his ear.so unexpectedly in the morning. So he wrote a note for his ‘Who gave him my letter this morning?’portmanteau, and sent it by a messenger, who duly brought ‘My lodger, sir,’ said Nadgett, behind the palm of his hand.635

Martin Chuzzlewit‘How came that about?’repast for lunch. It was advisable, he said, in two points of‘I found him on the wharf, sir. Being so much hurried, and view: First, as being healthy in itself. Secondly as being theyou not arrived, it was necessary to do something. It fortunatelyoccurred to me, that if I gave it him myself I could be ‘And you are bound for all our sakes to take particular carebetter preparation for dinner.of no further use. I should have been blown upon immediately.torsmacking his lips after a glass of wine; ‘for depend uponof your digestion, Mr Chuzzlewit, my dear sir,’ said the doc-‘Mr Nadgett, you are a jewel,’ said Montague, patting him it, it is worth preserving. It must be in admirable condition,on the back. ‘What’s your lodger’s name?’sir; perfect chronometer-work. Otherwise your spirits could‘Pinch, sir. Thomas Pinch.’not be so remarkable. Your bosom’s lord sits lightly on itsMontague reflected for a little while, and then asked: throne, Mr Chuzzlewit, as what’s-his-name says in the play. I‘From the country, do you know?’wish he said it in a play which did anything like common‘From Wiltshire, sir, he told me.’justice to our profession, by the bye. There is an apothecaryThey parted without another word. To see Mr Nadgett’s in that drama, sir, which is a low thing; vulgar, sir; out ofbow when Montague and he next met, and to see Mr nature altogether.’Montague acknowledge it, anybody might have undertaken Mr Jobling pulled out his shirt-frill of fine linen, as thoughto swear that they had never spoken to each other confidentiallyin all their lives.man, sir;’ and looked at Jonas for an observation.he would have said, ‘This is what I call nature in a medicalIn the meanwhile, Mr Jonas and the doctor made themselvesvery comfortable upstairs, over a bottle of the old Ma-up a case of lancets that was lying on the table, and opened it.Jonas not being in a condition to pursue the subject, tookdeira and some sandwiches; for the doctor having been alreadyinvited to dine below at six o’clock, preferred a light ‘em out of my pocket before I eat. My pockets are‘Ah!’ said the doctor, leaning back in his chair, ‘I always takerather636

Charles Dickenstight. Ha, ha, ha!’‘Yes,’ said the doctor; ‘that’s the jugular.’Jonas had opened one of the shining little instruments; and Jonas, in his vivacity, made a sudden sawing in the air, sowas scrutinizing it with a look as sharp and eager as its own close behind the doctor’s jugular that he turned quite red.bright edge.Then Jonas (in the same strange spirit of vivacity) burst into‘Good steel, doctor. Good steel! Eh!’a loud discordant laugh.‘Ye-es,’ replied the doctor, with the faltering modesty of ‘No, no,’ said the doctor, shaking his head; ‘edge tools, edgeownership. ‘One might open a vein pretty dexterously with tools; never play with ‘em. A very remarkable instance of thethat, Mr Chuzzlewit.’skillful use of edge-tools, by the way, occurs to me at this‘It has opened a good many in its time, I suppose?’ said moment. It was a case of murder. I am afraid it was a case ofJonas looking at it with a growing interest.murder, committed by a member of our profession; it was so‘Not a few, my dear sir, not a few. It has been engaged in artistically done.’a—in a pretty good practice, I believe I may say,’ replied the ‘Aye!’ said Jonas. ‘How was that?’doctor, coughing as if the matter-of-fact were so very dry and ‘Why, sir,’ returned Jobling, ‘the thing lies in a nutshell. Aliteral that he couldn’t help it. ‘In a pretty good practice,’ certain gentleman was found, one morning, in an obscurerepeated the doctor, putting another glass of wine to his lips. street, lying in an angle of a doorway—I should rather say,‘Now, could you cut a man’s throat with such a thing as leaning, in an upright position, in the angle of a doorway, andthis?’ demanded Jonas.supported consequently by the doorway. Upon his waistcoat‘Oh certainly, certainly, if you took him in the right place,’ there was one solitary drop of blood. He was dead and cold;returned the doctor. ‘It all depends upon that.’and had been murdered, sir.’‘Where you have your hand now, hey?’ cried Jonas, bendingforward to look at it.‘Sir, that man,’ replied the doctor, ‘had been stabbed to‘Only one drop of blood!’ said Jonas.the637

Martin Chuzzlewitheart. Had been stabbed to the heart with such dexterity, sir, went on to elucidate it with the assistance of his own finger andthat he had died instantly, and had bled internally. It was supposedthat a medical friend of his (to whom suspicion attached) trouble of going into a corner of the room, and alternately repre-thumb and waistcoat; and at Jonas’s request, he took the furtherhad engaged him in conversation on some pretence; had taken senting the murdered man and the murderer; which he did withhim, very likely, by the button in a conversational manner; had great effect. The bottle being emptied and the story done, Jonasexamined his ground at leisure with his other hand; had marked was in precisely the same boisterous and unusual state as whenthe exact spot; drawn out the instrument, whatever it was, when they had sat down. If, as Jobling theorized, his good digestionhe was quite prepared; and—’were the cause, he must have been a very ostrich.‘And done the trick,’ suggested Jonas.At dinner it was just the same; and after dinner too; though‘Exactly so,’ replied the doctor. ‘It was quite an operation wine was drunk in abundance, and various rich meats eaten.in its way, and very neat. The medical friend never turned up; At nine o’clock it was still the same. There being a lamp inand, as I tell you, he had the credit of it. Whether he did it or the carriage, he swore they would take a pack of cards, and anot I can’t say. But, having had the honour to be called in bottle of wine; and with these things under his cloak, wentwith two or three of my professional brethren on the occasion,and having assisted to make a careful examination of the ‘Out of the way, Tom Thumb, and get to bed!’down to the door.wound, I have no hesitation in saying that it would have reflectedcredit on any medical man; and that in an unprofes-booted and wrapped up, stood at the carriage door to helpThis was the salutation he bestowed on Mr Bailey, who,sional person it could not but be considered, either as an extraordinarywork of art, or the result of a still more extraordi-‘To bed, sir! I’m a-going, too,’ said Bailey.him in.nary, happy, and favourable conjunction of circumstances.’ He alighted quickly, and walked back into the hall, whereHis hearer was so much interested in this case, that the doctor Montague was lighting a cigar; conducting Mr Bailey with him,638

Charles Dickensby the collar.ion on the case, the quick fulfilment of his prophecy may be‘You are not a-going to take this monkey of a boy, are you?’ taken as an instance of his professional tact; for, unless the‘Yes,’ said Montague.threatening aspect of the night had been perfectly plain andHe gave the boy a shake, and threw him roughly aside. unmistakable, Mr Jobling would never have compromisedThere was more of his familiar self in the action, than in his reputation by delivering any sentiments on the subject.anything he had done that day; but he broke out laughing He used this principle in Medicine with too much success toimmediately afterwards, and making a thrust at the doctor be unmindful of it in his commonest transactions.with his hand, in imitation of his representation of the medicalfriend, went out to the carriage again, and took his seat. windows listening for the thunder which they know willIt was one of those hot, silent nights, when people sit atHis companion followed immediately. Mr Bailey climbed shortly break; when they recall dismal tales of hurricanes andinto the rumble. ‘It will be a stormy night!’ exclaimed the earthquakes; and of lonely travellers on open plains, and lonelydoctor, as they started.ships at sea, struck by lightning. Lightning flashed and quiveredon the black horizon even now; and hollow murmuringswere in the wind, as though it had been blowing where theCHAPTER FORTY-TWOthunder rolled, and still was charged with its exhausted echoes.But the storm, though gathering swiftly, had not yetCONTINUATION OF THE ENTERPRISEcome up; and the prevailing stillness was the more solemn,OF MR JONAS AND HIS FRIENDfrom the dull intelligence that seemed to hover in the air, ofnoise and conflict afar off.THE DOCTOR’S PROGNOSTICATION in reference to the weatherIt was very dark; but in the murky sky there were masses ofwas speedily verified. Although the weather was not a patientcloud which shone with a lurid light, like monstrous heaps ofof his, and no third party had required him to give an opin-639

Martin Chuzzlewitcopper that had been heated in a furnace, and were growing cart proceeding onward at a heavy trot, with the same end incold. These had been advancing steadily and slowly, but they view. Little clusters of such vehicles were gathered round thewere now motionless, or nearly so. As the carriage clattered stable-yard or baiting-place of every wayside tavern; while theirround the corners of the streets, it passed at every one a knot drivers watched the weather from the doors and open windows,or made merry within. Everywhere the people wereof persons who had come there—many from their housesclose at hand, without hats—to look up at that quarter of the disposed to bear each other company rather than sit alone; sosky. And now a very few large drops of rain began to fall, and that groups of watchful faces seemed to be looking out uponthunder rumbled in the distance.the night and them, from almost every house they passed.Jonas sat in a corner of the carriage with his bottle resting It may appear strange that this should have disturbed Jonas,on his knee, and gripped as tightly in his hand as if he would or rendered him uneasy; but it did. After muttering to himself,and often changing his position, he drew up the blind onhave ground its neck to powder if he could. Instinctively attractedby the night, he had laid aside the pack of cards upon his side of the carriage, and turned his shoulder sulkily towardsit. But he neither looked at his companion, nor brokethe cushion; and with the same involuntary impulse, so intelligibleto both of them as not to occasion a remark on either the silence which prevailed between them, and which hadside, his companion had extinguished the lamp. The front fallen so suddenly upon himself, by addressing a word to him.glasses were down; and they sat looking silently out upon the The thunder rolled, the lightning flashed; the rain pouredgloomy scene before them.down like Heaven’s wrath. Surrounded at one moment byThey were clear of London, or as clear of it as travellers can intolerable light, and at the next by pitchy darkness, they stillbe whose way lies on the Western Road, within a stage of that pressed forward on their journey. Even when they arrived atenormous city. Occasionally they encountered a foot-passenger,hurrying to the nearest place of shelter; or some unwieldy ordered horses out immediately. Nor had this anythe end of the stage, and might have tarried, they did not; butreference640

Charles Dickensto some five minutes’ lull, which at that time seemed to promisea cessation of the storm. They held their course as if they hedge-divided country, with the distant fringe of trees as ob-harrows and ploughs left out in fields; miles upon miles ofwere impelled and driven by its fury. Although they had not vious as the scarecrow in the bean-field close at hand; in aexchanged a dozen words, and might have tarried very well, trembling, vivid, flickering instant, everything was clear andthey seemed to feel, by joint consent, that onward they must plain; then came a flush of red into the yellow light; a changego.to blue; a brightness so intense that there was nothing else butLouder and louder the deep thunder rolled, as through the light; and then the deepest and profoundest darkness.myriad halls of some vast temple in the sky; fiercer and The lightning being very crooked and very dazzling maybrighter became the lightning, more and more heavily the have presented or assisted a curious optical illusion, whichrain poured down. The horses (they were travelling now with suddenly rose before the startled eyes of Montague in thea single pair) plunged and started from the rills of quivering carriage, and as rapidly disappeared. He thought he saw Jonasfire that seemed to wind along the ground before them; but with his hand lifted, and the bottle clenched in it like a hammer,making as if he would aim a blow at his head. At thethere these two men sat, and forward they went as if theywere led on by an invisible attraction.same time he observed (or so believed) an expression in hisThe eye, partaking of the quickness of the flashing light, face—a combination of the unnatural excitement he hadsaw in its every gleam a multitude of objects which it could shown all day, with a wild hatred and fear—which mightnot see at steady noon in fifty times that period. Bells in have rendered a wolf a less terrible companion.steeples, with the rope and wheel that moved them; ragged He uttered an involuntary exclamation, and called to thenests of birds in cornices and nooks; faces full of consternationin the tilted waggons that came tearing past; their fright-It could hardly have been as he supposed, for although hedriver, who brought his horses to a stop with all speed.ened teams ringing out a warning which the thunder drowned; had not taken his eyes off his companion, and had not seen641

Martin Chuzzlewithim move, he sat reclining in his corner as before.with some hesitation.‘What’s the matter?’ said Jonas. ‘Is that your general way of ‘Oh! thankee!’ said Jonas. ‘We don’t want any damp boyswaking out of your sleep?’here; especially a young imp like him. Let him be where he is.‘I could swear,’ returned the other, ‘that I have not closed my eyes!’ He ain’t afraid of a little thunder and lightning, I dare say;‘When you have sworn it,’ said Jonas, composedly, ‘we had whoever else is. Go on, driver. We had better have him insidebetter go on again, if you have only stopped for that.’ perhaps,’ he muttered with a laugh; ‘and the horses!’He uncorked the bottle with the help of his teeth; and puttingit to his lips, took a long draught.take care how you go. You were nearly in the ditch when I‘Don’t go too fast,’ cried Montague to the postillion; ‘and‘I wish we had never started on this journey. This is not,’ called to you.’said Montague, recoiling instinctively, and speaking in a voice This was not true; and Jonas bluntly said so, as they movedthat betrayed his agitation; ‘this is not a night to travel in.’ forward again. Montague took little or no heed of what he‘Ecod! you’re right there,’ returned Jonas, ‘and we shouldn’t said, but repeated that it was not a night for travelling, andbe out in it but for you. If you hadn’t kept me waiting all day, showed himself, both then and afterwards, unusually anxious.we might have been at Salisbury by this time; snug abed and From this time Jonas recovered his former spirits, if such afast asleep. What are we stopping for?’term may be employed to express the state in which he hadHis companion put his head out of window for a moment, left the city. He had his bottle often at his mouth; roared outand drawing it in again, observed (as if that were his cause of snatches of songs, without the least regard to time or tune oranxiety), that the boy was drenched to the skin.voice, or anything but loud discordance; and urged his silent‘Serve him right,’ said Jonas. ‘I’m glad of it. What the devil friend to be merry with him.are we stopping for? Are you going to spread him out to dry?’ ‘You’re the best company in the world, my good fellow,’‘I have half a mind to take him inside,’ observed the other said Montague with an effort, ‘and in general irresistible; but642

Charles Dickensto-night —do you hear it?’and yet such a coarse intrusion on its terrors, that his fellowtraveller,always a coward, shrunk from him in positive fear.‘Ecod! I hear and see it too,’ cried Jonas, shading his eyes,for the moment, from the lightning which was flashing, not Instead of Jonas being his tool and instrument, their placesin any one direction, but all around them. ‘What of that? It seemed to be reversed. But there was reason for this too,don’t change you, nor me, nor our affairs. Chorus, chorus, Montague thought; since the sense of his debasement mightnaturally inspire such a man with the wish to assert a noisyIt may lighten and storm,independence, and in that licence to forget his real condition.Till it hunt the red wormBeing quick enough, in reference to such subjects of contemplation,he was not long in taking this argument into accountFrom the grass where the gibbet is driven;But it can’t hurt the dead,and giving it its full weight. But still, he felt a vague sense ofAnd it won’t save the headalarm, and was depressed and uneasy.That is doom’d to be rifled and riven.He was certain he had not been asleep; but his eyes mighthave deceived him; for, looking at Jonas now in any intervalThat must be a precious old song,’ he added with an oath, as of darkness, he could represent his figure to himself in anyhe stopped short in a kind of wonder at himself. ‘I haven’t attitude his state of mind suggested. On the other hand, heheard it since I was a boy, and how it comes into my head knew full well that Jonas had no reason to love him; and evennow, unless the lightning put it there, I don’t know. “Can’t taking the piece of pantomime which had so impressed hishurt the dead”! No, no. “And won’t save the head”! No, no. mind to be a real gesture, and not the working of his fancy,No! Ha, ha, ha!’the most that could be said of it was, that it was quite inHis mirth was of such a savage and extraordinary character, keeping with the rest of his diabolical fun, and had the sameand was, in an inexplicable way, at once so suited to the night, impotent expression of truth in it. ‘If he could kill me with a643

Martin Chuzzlewitwish,’ thought the swindler, ‘I should not live long.’ quent. The rain was quite as violent as it had ever been.He resolved that when he should have had his use of Jonas, It was their ill-fortune, at about the time of dawn and inhe would restrain him with an iron curb; in the meantime, the last stage of their journey, to have a restive pair of horses.that he could not do better than leave him to take his own These animals had been greatly terrified in their stable by theway, and preserve his own peculiar description of goodhumour,after his own uncommon manner. It was no great night and morning, when the glare of the lightning was yettempest; and coming out into the dreary interval betweensacrifice to bear with him; ‘for when all is got that can be got,’ unsubdued by day, and the various objects in their view werethought Montague, ‘I shall decamp across the water, and have presented in indistinct and exaggerated shapes which theythe laugh on my side—and the gains.’would not have worn by night, they gradually became lessSuch were his reflections from hour to hour; his state of and less capable of control; until, taking a sudden fright atmind being one in which the same thoughts constantly present something by the roadside, they dashed off wildly down athemselves over and over again in wearisome repetition; while steep hill, flung the driver from his saddle, drew the carriageJonas, who appeared to have dismissed reflection altogether, to the brink of a ditch, stumbled headlong down, and threwentertained himself as before. They agreed that they would it crashing over.go to Salisbury, and would cross to Mr Pecksniff’s in the The travellers had opened the carriage door, and had eithermorning; and at the prospect of deluding that worthy gentleman,the spirits of his amiable son-in-law became more bois-He felt sick and weak, and very giddy, and reeling to a five-jumped or fallen out. Jonas was the first to stagger to his feet.terous than ever.barred gate, stood holding by it; looking drowsily about asAs the night wore on, the thunder died away, but still rolled the whole landscape swam before his eyes. But, by degrees, hegloomily and mournfully in the distance. The lightning too, grew more conscious, and presently observed that Montaguethough now comparatively harmless, was yet bright and fre-was lying senseless in the road, within a few feet of the horses.644

Charles DickensIn an instant, as if his own faint body were suddenly animatedby a demon, he ran to the horses’ heads; and pulling at their legs again. The postillion and Jonas had now leisure tofrom the broken chariot, and got them, cut and bleeding, ontheir bridles with all his force, set them struggling and plungingwith such mad violence as brought their hoofs at every ‘Presence of mind, presence of mind!’ cried Jonas, throw-look at each other, which they had not had yet.effort nearer to the skull of the prostrate man; and must have ing up his hands wildly. ‘What would you have done withoutled in half a minute to his brains being dashed out on the me?’highway.‘The other gentleman would have done badly without ME,’As he did this, he fought and contended with them like a returned the man, shaking his head. ‘You should have movedman possessed, making them wilder by his cries.him first. I gave him up for dead.’‘Whoop!’ cried Jonas. ‘Whoop! again! another! A little more, ‘Presence of mind, you croaker, presence of mind’ crieda little more! Up, ye devils! Hillo!’Jonas with a harsh loud laugh. ‘Was he struck, do you think?’As he heard the driver, who had risen and was hurrying up, They both turned to look at him. Jonas muttered somethingto himself, when he saw him sitting up beneath thecrying to him to desist, his violence increased.‘Hiilo! Hillo!’ cried Jonas.hedge, looking vacantly around.‘For God’s sake!’ cried the driver. ‘The gentleman—in the ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Montague. ‘Is anybody hurt?’road—he’ll be killed!’‘Ecod!’ said Jonas, ‘it don’t seem so. There are no bonesThe same shouts and the same struggles were his only answer.But the man darting in at the peril of his own life, saved They raised him, and he tried to walk. He was a good dealbroken, after all.’Montague’s, by dragging him through the mire and water out shaken, and trembled very much. But with the exception of aof the reach of present harm. That done, he ran to Jonas; and few cuts and bruises this was all the damage he had sustained.with the aid of his knife they very shortly disengaged the horses ‘Cuts and bruises, eh?’ said Jonas. ‘We’ve all got them. Only645

Martin Chuzzlewitcuts and bruises, eh?’this boy!’‘I wouldn’t have given sixpence for the gentleman’s head in ‘Is that all?’ growled Jonas. ‘If you call that a sign of it—’half-a-dozen seconds more, for all he’s only cut and bruised,’ ‘Why, what should I call a sign of it?’ asked Montague,observed the post-boy. ‘If ever you’re in an accident of this hurriedly. ‘What do you mean?’sort again, sir; which I hope you won’t be; never you pull at ‘I mean,’ said Jonas, stooping down over the body, ‘that Ithe bridle of a horse that’s down, when there’s a man’s head in never heard you were his father, or had any particular reasonthe way. That can’t be done twice without there being a dead to care much about him. Halloa. Hold up there!’man in the case; it would have ended in that, this time, as sure But the boy was past holding up, or being held up, or giving anyas ever you were born, if I hadn’t come up just when I did.’ other sign of life than a faint and fitful beating of the heart. AfterJonas replied by advising him with a curse to hold his tongue, some discussion the driver mounted the horse which had beenand to go somewhere, whither he was not very likely to go of least injured, and took the lad in his arms as well as he could; whilehis own accord. But Montague, who had listened eagerly to Montague and Jonas, leading the other horse, and carrying a trunkevery word, himself diverted the subject, by exclaiming: between them, walked by his side towards Salisbury.‘Where’s the boy?’‘You’d get there in a few minutes, and be able to send assistanceto meet us, if you went forward, post-boy,’ said Jonas.‘Ecod! I forgot that monkey,’ said Jonas. ‘What’s becomeof him?’ A very brief search settled that question. The unfortunateMr Bailey had been thrown sheer over the hedge or ‘No, no,’ cried Montague; ‘we’ll keep together.’‘Trot on!’the five-barred gate; and was lying in the neighbouring field, ‘Why, what a chicken you are! You are not afraid of beingto all appearance dead.robbed; are you?’ said Jonas.‘When I said to-night, that I wished I had never started on this ‘I am not afraid of anything,’ replied the other, whose looksjourney,’ cried his master, ‘I knew it was an ill-fated one. Look at and manner were in flat contradiction to his words. ‘But we’ll646

Charles Dickenskeep together.’been a redeeming trait in a character that had no such lineamentsto spare. But it was not difficult to see that, for some‘You were mighty anxious about the boy, a minute ago,’said Jonas. ‘I suppose you know that he may die in the meantime?’strange value to the company and presence of this mere child.unexpressed reason best appreciated by himself, he attached a‘Aye, aye. I know. But we’ll keep together.’When, after receiving some assistance from the surgeon himself,he retired to the bedroom prepared for him, and it wasAs it was clear that he was not to be moved from this determination,Jonas made no other rejoinder than such as his face broad day, his mind was still dwelling on this theme,expressed; and they proceeded in company. They had three or ‘I would rather have lost,’ he said, ‘a thousand pounds thanfour good miles to travel; and the way was not made easier by lost the boy just now. But I’ll return home alone. I am resolvedupon that. Chuzzlewit shall go forward first, and Ithe state of the road, the burden by which they were embarrassed,or their own stiff and sore condition. After a sufficientlylong and painful walk, they arrived at the Inn; and added, wiping his damp forehead. ‘Twenty-four hours of thiswill follow in my own time. I’ll have no more of this,’ hehaving knocked the people up (it being yet very early in the would turn my hair grey!’morning), sent out messengers to see to the carriage and its After examining his chamber, and looking under the bed,contents, and roused a surgeon from his bed to tend the chief and in the cupboards, and even behind the curtains, with unusualcaution (although it was, as has been said, broad day),sufferer. All the service he could render, he rendered promptlyand skillfully. But he gave it as his opinion that the boy was he double-locked the door by which he had entered, and retiredto rest. There was another door in the room, but it waslabouring under a severe concussion of the brain, and that MrBailey’s mortal course was run.locked on the outer side; and with what place it communicated,he knew not.If Montague’s strong interest in the announcement couldhave been considered as unselfish in any degree, it might have His fears or evil conscience reproduced this door in all his647

Martin Chuzzlewitdreams. He dreamed that a dreadful secret was connected with demanded of him if he knew this creatures name, and said thatit; a secret which he knew, and yet did not know, for although he would whisper it. At this the dreamer fell upon his knees,he was heavily responsible for it, and a party to it, he was harassedeven in his vision by a distracting uncertainty in reference ears. But looking at the speaker’s lips, he saw that they formedhis whole blood thrilling with inexplicable fear, and held histo its import. Incoherently entwined with this dream was another,which represented it as the hiding-place of an enemy, a secret was discovered, and they were all lost, he awoke.the utterance of the letter ‘J’; and crying out aloud that theshadow, a phantom; and made it the business of his life to keep Awoke to find Jonas standing at his bedside watching him.the terrible creature closed up, and prevent it from forcing its And that very door wide open.way in upon him. With this view Nadgett, and he, and a strange As their eyes met, Jonas retreated a few paces, and Montagueman with a bloody smear upon his head (who told him that he sprang out of bed.had been his playfellow, and told him, too, the real name of an ‘Heyday!’ said Jonas. ‘You’re all alive this morning.’old schoolmate, forgotten until then), worked with iron plates ‘Alive!’ the other stammered, as he pulled the bell-rope violently.‘What are you doing here?’and nails to make the door secure; but though they workednever so hard, it was all in vain, for the nails broke, or changed ‘It’s your room to be sure,’ said Jonas; ‘but I’m almost inclinedto ask you what you are doing here? My room is on theto soft twigs, or what was worse, to worms, between theirfingers; the wood of the door splintered and crumbled, so that other side of that door. No one told me last night not toeven nails would not remain in it; and the iron plates curled up open it. I thought it led into a passage, and was coming outlike hot paper. All this time the creature on the other side— to order breakfast. There’s —there’s no bell in my room.’whether it was in the shape of man, or beast, he neither knew Montague had in the meantime admitted the man with hisnor sought to know—was gaining on them. But his greatest hot water and boots, who hearing this, said, yes, there was;terror was when the man with the bloody smear upon his head and passed into the adjoining room to point it out, at the648

Charles Dickenshead of the bed.travel home alone!’‘I couldn’t find it, then,’ said Jonas; ‘it’s all the same. ShallCHAPTER FORTY-I order breakfast?’Montague answered in the affirmative. When Jonas had THREEretired, whistling, through his own room, he opened the doorof communication, to take out the key and fasten it on the HAS AN INFLUENCE ON THE FORTUNESinner side. But it was taken out already.OF SEVERAL PEOPLE. MR PECKSNIFF ISHe dragged a table against the door, and sat down to collect EXHIBITED IN THE PLENITUDE OFhimself, as if his dreams still had some influence upon his POWER; AND WIELDS THE SAME WITHmind.FORTITUDE AND MAGNANIMITY‘An evil journey,’ he repeated several times. ‘An evil journey.But I’ll travel home alone. I’ll have no more of this.’ON THE NIGHT OF THE STORM, Mrs Lupin, hostess of the BlueHis presentiment, or superstition, that it was an evil journey, Dragon, sat by herself in her little bar. Her solitary condition,did not at all deter him from doing the evil for which the or the bad weather, or both united, made Mrs Lupin thoughtful,not to say sorrowful. As she sat with her chin upon herjourney was undertaken. With this in view, he dressed himselfmore carefully than usual to make a favourable impression on hand, looking out through a low back lattice, rendered dimMr Pecksniff; and, reassured by his own appearance, the beauty in the brightest day-time by clustering vine-leaves, she shookof the morning, and the flashing of the wet boughs outside his her head very often, and said, ‘Dear me! Oh, dear, dear me!’window in the merry sunshine, was soon sufficiently inspirited It was a melancholy time, even in the snugness of the Dragonto swear a few round oaths, and hum the fag-end of a song. bar. The rich expanse of corn-field, pasture-land, green slope,But he still muttered to himself at intervals, for all that: ‘I’ll and gentle undulation, with its sparkling brooks, its many649

Martin Chuzzlewithedgerows, and its clumps of beautiful trees, was black and He had some reason to be gruff, for if he had passed the daydreary, from the diamond panes of the lattice away to the far in a waterfall, he could scarcely have been wetter than he was.horizon, where the thunder seemed to roll along the hills. He was wrapped up to the eyes in a rough blue sailor’s coat,The heavy rain beat down the tender branches of vine and and had an oil-skin hat on, from the capacious brim of whichjessamine, and trampled on them in its fury; and when the the rain fell trickling down upon his breast, and back, andlightning gleamed it showed the tearful leaves shivering and shoulders. Judging from a certain liveliness of chin—he hadcowering together at the window, and tapping at it urgently, so pulled down his hat, and pulled up his collar, to defendas if beseeching to be sheltered from the dismal night. himself from the weather, that she could only see his chin,As a mark of her respect for the lightning, Mrs Lupin had and even across that he drew the wet sleeve of his shaggy coat,removed her candle to the chimney-piece. Her basket of as she looked at him—Mrs Lupin set him down for a goodnaturedfellow, too.needle-work stood unheeded at her elbow; her supper, spreadon a round table not far off, was untasted; and the knives had ‘A bad night!’ observed the hostess cheerfully.been removed for fear of attraction. She had sat for a long The traveller shook himself like a Newfoundland dog, andtime with her chin upon her hand, saying to herself at intervals,‘Dear me! Ah, dear, dear me!’‘There’s a fire in the kitchen,’ said Mrs Lupin, ‘and verysaid it was, rather.She was on the eve of saying so, once more, when the latch good company there. Hadn’t you better go and dry yourself?’of the house-door (closed to keep the rain out), rattled on its ‘No, thankee,’ said the man, glancing towards the kitchenwell-worn catch, and a traveller came in, who, shutting it as he spoke; he seemed to know the way.after him, and walking straight up to the half-door of the bar, ‘It’s enough to give you your death of cold,’ observed thesaid, rather gruffly:hostess.‘A pint of the best old beer here.’‘I don’t take my death easy,’ returned the traveller; ‘or I should650

Charles Dickensmost likely have took it afore to-night. Your health, ma’am!’ have done so too, for the light required a deal of trimming.Mrs Lupin thanked him; but in the act of lifting the tankardto his mouth, he changed his mind, and put it down voice.‘Where did he go, ma’am?’ asked the traveller, in a gentleragain. Throwing his body back, and looking about him stiffly, ‘He went,’ said Mrs Lupin, with increased distress, ‘toas a man does who is wrapped up, and has his hat low down America. He was always tender-hearted and kind, and perhapsat this moment may be lying in prison under sentence ofover his eyes, he said:‘What do you call this house? Not the Dragon, do you?’ death, for taking pity on some miserable black, and helpingMrs Lupin complacently made answer, ‘Yes, the Dragon.’ the poor runaway creetur to escape. How could he ever go to‘Why, then, you’ve got a sort of a relation of mine here, America! Why didn’t he go to some of those countries wherema’am,’ said the traveller; ‘a young man of the name of Tapley. the savages eat each other fairly, and give an equal chance toWhat! Mark, my boy!’ apostrophizing the premises, ‘have I every one!’come upon you at last, old buck!’Quite subdued by this time, Mrs Lupin sobbed, and wasThis was touching Mrs Lupin on a tender point. She turned retiring to a chair to give her grief free vent, when the travellerto trim the candle on the chimney-piece, and said, with her caught her in his arms, and she uttered a glad cry of recognition.back towards the traveller:‘Nobody should be made more welcome at the Dragon, ‘Yes, I will!’ cried Mark, ‘another—one more—twentymaster, than any one who brought me news of Mark. But it’s more! You didn’t know me in that hat and coat? I thoughtmany and many a long day and month since he left here and you would have known me anywheres! Ten more!’England. And whether he’s alive or dead, poor fellow, Heaven ‘So I should have known you, if I could have seen you; butabove us only knows!’I couldn’t, and you spoke so gruff. I didn’t think you couldShe shook her head, and her voice trembled; her hand must speak gruff to me, Mark, at first coming back.’651

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Fifteen more!’ said Mr Tapley. ‘How handsome and how tell me all about ‘em, won’t you; Mr Pinch, and the butcher’syoung you look! Six more! The last half-dozen warn’t a fair dog down the street, and the terrier over the way, and theone, and must be done over again. Lord bless you, what a wheelwright’s, and every one of ‘em. When I first caught sighttreat it is to see you! One more! Well, I never was so jolly. Just of the church to-night, I thought the steeple would havea few more, on account of there not being any credit in it!’ choked me, I did. One more! Won’t you? Not a very littleWhen Mr Tapley stopped in these calculations in simple one to finish off with?’addition, he did it, not because he was at all tired of the exercise,but because he was out of breath. The pause reminded with your foreign manners!’‘You have had plenty, I am sure,’ said the hostess. ‘Go alonghim of other duties.‘That ain’t foreign, bless you!’ cried Mark. ‘Native as oysters,that is! One more, because it’s native! As a mark of re-‘Mr Martin Chuzzlewit’s outside,’ he said. ‘I left him underthe cartshed, while I came on to see if there was anybody spect for the land we live in! This don’t count as between youhere. We want to keep quiet to-night, till we know the news and me, you understand,’ said Mr Tapley. ‘I ain’t a-kissingfrom you, and what it’s best for us to do.’you now, you’ll observe. I have been among the patriots; I’m‘There’s not a soul in the house, except the kitchen company,’returned the hostess. ‘If they were to know you had It would have been very unreasonable to complain of thea-kissin’ my country.’come back, Mark, they’d have a bonfire in the street, late as it exhibition of his patriotism with which he followed up thisis.’explanation, that it was at all lukewarm or indifferent. When‘But they mustn’t know it to-night, my precious soul,’ said he had given full expression to his nationality, he hurried offMark; ‘so have the house shut, and the kitchen fire made up; to Martin; while Mrs Lupin, in a state of great agitation andand when it’s all ready, put a light in the winder, and we’ll excitement, prepared for their reception.come in. One more! I long to hear about old friends. You’ll The company soon came tumbling out; insisting to each652

Charles Dickensother that the Dragon clock was half an hour too fast, and ‘I am! What do you consider yourself, sir?’that the thunder must have affected it. Impatient, wet, and ‘Oh, not half as bad,’ said his fellow-traveller, with an air ofweary though they were, Martin and Mark were overjoyed to great vexation. ‘I told you not to keep on the windy side,see these old faces, and watched them with delighted interest Mark, but to let us change and change about. The rain hasas they departed from the house, and passed close by them. been beating on you ever since it began.’‘There’s the old tailor, Mark!’ whispered Martin.‘You don’t know how it pleases me, sir,’ said Mark, after a‘There he goes, sir! A little bandier than he was, I think, sir, short silence, ‘if I may make so bold as say so, to hear you a-ain’t he? His figure’s so far altered, as it seems to me, that you going on in that there uncommon considerate way of yours;might wheel a rather larger barrow between his legs as he walks, which I don’t mean to attend to, never, but which, ever sincethan you could have done conveniently when we know’d him. that time when I was floored in Eden, you have showed.’There’s Sam a-coming out, sir.’‘Ah, Mark!’ sighed Martin, ‘the less we say of that the better.Do I see the light yonder?’‘Ah, to be sure!’ cried Martin; ‘Sam, the hostler. I wonderwhether that horse of Pecksniff’s is alive still?’‘That’s the light!’ cried Mark. ‘Lord bless her, what brisknessshe possesses! Now for it, sir. Neat wines, good beds,‘Not a doubt on it, sir,’ returned Mark. ‘That’s a descriptionof animal, sir, as will go on in a bony way peculiar to and first-rate entertainment for man or beast.’himself for a long time, and get into the newspapers at last The kitchen fire burnt clear and red, the table was spreadunder the title of “Sing’lar Tenacity of Life in a Quadruped.” out, the kettle boiled; the slippers were there, the boot-jackAs if he had ever been alive in all his life, worth mentioning! too, sheets of ham were there, cooking on the gridiron; halfa-dozeneggs were there, poaching in the frying-pan; a pletho-There’s the clerk, sir—wery drunk, as usual.’‘I see him!’ said Martin, laughing. ‘But, my life, how wet ric cherry-brandy bottle was there, winking at a foaming jugyou are, Mark!’of beer upon the table; rare provisions were there, dangling653

Martin Chuzzlewitfrom the rafters as if you had only to open your mouth, and distinction, but at the same time admonishing Mr Tapleysomething exquisitely ripe and good would be glad of the with a fork to remain at a respectful distance. ‘Little did I everexcuse for tumbling into it. Mrs Lupin, who for their sakes think that! But still less, that I should ever have the changeshad dislodged the very cook, high priestess of the temple, to relate that I shall have to tell you of, when you have donewith her own genial hands was dressing their repast. your supper!’It was impossible to help it—a ghost must have hugged ‘Good Heaven!’ cried Martin, changing colour, ‘whather. The Atlantic Ocean and the Red Sea being, in that respect,all one, Martin hugged her instantly. Mr Tapley (as if ‘She,’ said the hostess, ‘is quite well, and now at Mrchanges?’the idea were quite novel, and had never occurred to him Pecksniff’s. Don’t be at all alarmed about her. She is everythingyou could wish. It’s of no use mincing matters, or mak-before), followed, with much gravity, on the same side.‘Little did I ever think,’ said Mrs Lupin, adjusting her cap ing secrets, is it?’ added Mrs Lupin. ‘I know all about it, youand laughing heartily; yes, and blushing too; ‘often as I have see!’said that Mr Pecksniff’s young gentlemen were the life and ‘My good creature,’ returned Martin, ‘you are exactly thesoul of the Dragon, and that without them it would be too person who ought to know all about it. I am delighted todull to live in—little did I ever think I am sure, that any one think you DO know about that! But what changes do youof them would ever make so free as you, Mr Martin! And hint at? Has any death occurred?’still less that I shouldn’t be angry with him, but should be ‘No, no!’ said the hostess. ‘Not as bad as that. But I declareglad with all my heart to be the first to welcome him home now that I will not be drawn into saying another word tillfrom America, with Mark Tapley for his—’you have had your supper. If you ask me fifty questions in the‘For his friend, Mrs Lupin,’ interposed Martin.meantime, I won’t answer one.’‘For his friend,’ said the hostess, evidently gratified by this She was so positive, that there was nothing for it but to get654

Charles Dickensthe supper over as quickly as possible; and as they had been and what high honour he designed for Mary. On receipt ofwalking a great many miles, and had fasted since the middle this intelligence, Martin’s slippers flew off in a twinkling, andof the day, they did no great violence to their own inclinationsin falling on it tooth and nail. It took rather longer to tion of going somewhere instantly, and doing something tohe began pulling on his wet boots with that indefinite inten-get through than might have been expected; for, half-a-dozen somebody, which is the first safety-valve of a hot temper.times, when they thought they had finished, Mrs Lupin exposedthe fallacy of that impression triumphantly. But at last, Give me that other boot, Mark?’‘He!’ said Martin, ‘smooth-tongued villain that he is! He!in the course of time and nature, they gave in. Then, sitting ‘Where was you a-thinking of going to, sir?’ inquired Mrwith their slippered feet stretched out upon the kitchen hearth Tapley drying the sole at the fire, and looking coolly at it as(which was wonderfully comforting, for the night had grown he spoke, as if it were a slice of toast.by this time raw and chilly), and looking with involuntary ‘Where!’ repeated Martin. ‘You don’t suppose I am goingadmiration at their dimpled, buxom, blooming hostess, as to remain here, do you?’the firelight sparkled in her eyes and glimmered in her raven The imperturbable Mark confessed that he did.hair, they composed themselves to listen to her news. You do!’ retorted Martin angrily. ‘I am much obliged toMany were the exclamations of surprise which interrupted you. What do you take me for?’her, when she told them of the separation between Mr ‘I take you for what you are, sir,’ said Mark; ‘and, consequently,am quite sure that whatever you do will be right andPecksniff and his daughters, and between the same good gentlemanand Mr Pinch. But these were nothing to the indignant sensible. The boot, sir.’demonstrations of Martin, when she related, as the common Martin darted an impatient look at him, without taking it,talk of the neighbourhood, what entire possession he had and walked rapidly up and down the kitchen several times,obtained over the mind and person of old Mr Chuzzlewit, with one boot and a stocking on. But, mindful of his Eden655

Martin Chuzzlewitresolution, he had already gained many victories over himself upon them!when Mark was in the case, and he resolved to conquer now. ‘As to Mr Pinch,’ pursued the landlady, ‘if ever there was aSo he came back to the book-jack, laid his hand on Mark’s dear, good, pleasant, worthy soul alive, Pinch, and no other,shoulder to steady himself, pulled the boot off, picked up his is his name. But how do we know that old Mr Chuzzlewitslippers, put them on, and sat down again. He could not help himself was not the cause of difference arising between himthrusting his hands to the very bottom of his pockets, and and Mr Pecksniff? No one but themselves can tell; for Mrmuttering at intervals, ‘Pecksniff too! That fellow! Upon my Pinch has a proud spirit, though he has such a quiet way; andsoul! In-deed! What next?’ and so forth; nor could he help when he left us, and was so sorry to go, he scorned to makeoccasionally shaking his fist at the chimney, with a very threateningcountenance; but this did not last long; and he heard Mrs ‘Poor old Tom!’ said Martin, in a tone that sounded likehis story good, even to me.’Lupin out, if not with composure, at all events in silence. remorse.‘As to Mr Pecksniff himself,’ observed the hostess in conclusion,spreading out the skirts of her gown with both hands, his sister living with him, and is doing well. Only yesterday he‘It’s a comfort to know,’ resumed the landlady, ‘that he hasand nodding her head a great many times as she did so, ‘I sent me back, by post, a little’—here the colour came into herdon’t know what to say. Somebody must have poisoned his cheeks—‘a little trifle I was bold enough to lend him when hemind, or influenced him in some extraordinary way. I cannot went away; saying, with many thanks, that he had good employment,and didn’t want it. It was the same note; he hadn’tbelieve that such a noble-spoken gentleman would go and dowrong of his own accord!’broken it. I never thought I could have been so little pleased toA noble-spoken gentleman! How many people are there in see a bank-note come back to me as I was to see that.’the world, who, for no better reason, uphold their Pecksniffs ‘Kindly said, and heartily!’ said Martin. ‘Is it not, Mark?’to the last and abandon virtuous men, when Pecksniffs breathe ‘She can’t say anything as does not possess them qualities,’656

Charles Dickensreturned Mr Tapley; ‘which as much belongs to the Dragon stirred against me; but by Pecksniff—Pecksniff, Mark!’as its licence. And now that we have got quite cool and fresh, ‘Well, but we know beforehand,’ returned the politic Mrto the subject again, sir; what will you do? If you’re not proud, Tapley, ‘that Pecksniff is a wagabond, a scoundrel, and aand can make up your mind to go through with what you willain.’spoke of, coming along, that’s the course for you to take. If ‘A most pernicious villain!’ said Martin.you started wrong with your grandfather (which, you’ll excusemy taking the liberty of saying, appears to have been the and, consequently, it’s no shame to be defeated by Pecksniff.‘A most pernicious willain. We know that beforehand, sir;case), up with you, sir, and tell him so, and make an appeal to Blow Pecksniff!’ cried Mr Tapley, in the fervour of his eloquence.‘Who’s he! It’s not in the natur of Pecksniff to shamehis affections. Don’t stand out. He’s a great deal older thanyou, and if he was hasty, you was hasty too. Give way, sir, us, unless he agreed with us, or done us a service; and, in casegive way.’he offered any audacity of that description, we could expressThe eloquence of Mr Tapley was not without its effect on our sentiments in the English language, I hope. Pecksniff!’Martin but he still hesitated, and expressed his reason thus: repeated Mr Tapley, with ineffable disdain. ‘What’s Pecksniff,‘That’s all very true, and perfectly correct, Mark; and if it who’s Pecksniff, where’s Pecksniff, that he’s to be so muchwere a mere question of humbling myself before him, I would considered? We’re not a-calculating for ourselves;’ he laid uncommonemphasis on the last syllable of that word, andnot consider it twice. But don’t you see, that being whollyunder this hypocrite’s government, and having (if what we looked full in Martin’s face; ‘we’re making a effort for a younghear be true) no mind or will of his own, I throw myself, in lady likewise as has undergone her share; and whatever littlefact, not at his feet, but at the feet of Mr Pecksniff? And hope we have, this here Pecksniff is not to stand in its way, Iwhen I am rejected and spurned away,’ said Martin, turning expect. I never heard of any act of Parliament, as was made bycrimson at the thought, ‘it is not by him; my own blood Pecksniff. Pecksniff! Why, I wouldn’t see the man myself; I657

Martin Chuzzlewitwouldn’t hear him; I wouldn’t choose to know he was in Bless You!”’company. I’d scrape my shoes on the scraper of the door, and Martin smiled, but felt that it was good advice notwithstanding,and resolved to act upon it. When they had ascer-call that Pecksniff, if you liked; but I wouldn’t condescend nofurther.’tained from Mrs Lupin that Pecksniff had already returnedThe amazement of Mrs Lupin, and indeed of Mr Tapley from the great ceremonial at which they had beheld him inhimself for that matter, at this impassioned flow of language, his glory; and when they had fully arranged the order of theirwas immense. But Martin, after looking thoughtfully at the proceedings; they went to bed, intent upon the morrow.fire for a short time, said:In pursuance of their project as agreed upon at this discussion,Mr Tapley issued forth next morning, after breakfast,‘You are right, Mark. Right or wrong, it shall be done. I’lldo it.’charged with a letter from Martin to his grandfather, requestingleave to wait upon him for a few minutes. And postpon-‘One word more, sir,’ returned Mark. ‘Only think of himso far as not to give him a handle against you. Don’t you do ing as he went along the congratulations of his numerousanything secret that he can report before you get there. Don’t friends until a more convenient season, he soon arrived at Mryou even see Miss Mary in the morning, but let this here dear Pecksniff’s house. At that gentleman’s door; with a face sofriend of ours’—Mr Tapley bestowed a smile upon the hostess—’prepareher for what’s a-going to happen, and carry any for the most acute physiognomist to determine what he wasimmovable that it would have been next to an impossibilitylittle message as may be agreeable. She knows how. Don’t thinking about, or whether he was thinking at all; he straightwayknocked.you?’ Mrs Lupin laughed and tossed her head. ‘Then you goin, bold and free as a gentleman should. “I haven’t done nothingunder-handed,” says you. “I haven’t been skulking about insensible to the fact that Mr Pecksniff was making the endA person of Mr Tapley’s observation could not long remainthe premises, here I am, for-give me, I ask your pardon, God of his nose very blunt against the glass of the parlour window,658

Charles Dickensin an angular attempt to discover who had knocked at the signing of it at the end, while I was a-waitin’.’door. Nor was Mr Tapley slow to baffle this movement on ‘And he said he wanted an answer, did he?’ asked Mrthe part of the enemy, by perching himself on the top step, Pecksniff in his most persuasive manner.and presenting the crown of his hat in that direction. But Mark replied in the affirmative.possibly Mr Pecksniff had already seen him, for Mark soon ‘He shall have an answer. Certainly,’ said Mr Pecksniff, tearingthe letter into small pieces, as mildly as if that were theheard his shoes creaking, as he advanced to open the doorwith his own hands.most flattering attention a correspondent could receive. ‘HaveMr Pecksniff was as cheerful as ever, and sang a little song in the goodness to give him that, with my compliments, if youthe passage.please. Good morning!’ Whereupon he handed Mark the‘How d’ye do, sir?’ said Mark.scraps; retired, and shut the door.‘Oh!’ cried Mr Pecksniff. ‘Tapley, I believe? The Prodigal Mark thought it prudent to subdue his personal emotions,returned! We don’t want any beer, my friend.’and return to Martin at the Dragon. They were not unpreparedfor such a reception, and suffered an hour or so to elapse‘Thankee, sir,’ said Mark. ‘I couldn’t accommodate you ifyou did. A letter, sir. Wait for an answer.’before making another attempt. When this interval had gone‘For me?’ cried Mr Pecksniff. ‘And an answer, eh?’ by, they returned to Mr Pecksniff’s house in company. Martinknocked this time, while Mr Tapley prepared himself to‘Not for you, I think, sir,’ said Mark, pointing out the direction.‘Chuzzlewit, I believe the name is, sir.’keep the door open with his foot and shoulder, when anybodycame, and by that means secure an enforced parley. But‘Oh!’ returned Mr Pecksniff. ‘Thank you. Yes. Who’s itfrom, my good young man?’this precaution was needless, for the servant-girl appeared almostimmediately. Brushing quickly past her as he had re-‘The gentleman it comes from wrote his name inside, sir,’returned Mr Tapley with extreme politeness. ‘I see him a- solved in such a case to do, Martin (closely followed by his659

Martin Chuzzlewitfaithful ally) opened the door of that parlour in which he when Mr Pecksniff interposed himself between them.knew a visitor was most likely to be found; passed at once ‘No, young man!’ said Mr Pecksniff, striking himself uponinto the room; and stood, without a word of notice or announcement,in the presence of his grandfather.if it were a wing to shelter him. ‘No, sir. None of that. Strikethe breast, and stretching out his other arm towards his guest asMr Pecksniff also was in the room; and Mary. In the swift here, sir, here! Launch your arrows at me, sir, if you’ll have theinstant of their mutual recognition, Martin saw the old man goodness; not at Him!’droop his grey head, and hide his face in his hands.‘Grandfather!’ cried Martin. ‘Hear me! I implore you, letIt smote him to the heart. In his most selfish and most me speak!’careless day, this lingering remnant of the old man’s ancient ‘Would you, sir? Would you?’ said Mr Pecksniff, dodginglove, this buttress of a ruined tower he had built up in the about, so as to keep himself always between them. ‘Is it nottime gone by, with so much pride and hope, would have enough, sir, that you come into my house like a thief in thecaused a pang in Martin’s heart. But now, changed for the night, or I should rather say, for we can never be too particularon the subject of Truth, like a thief in the day-time; bring-better in his worst respect; looking through an altered mediumon his former friend, the guardian of his childhood, so ing your dissolute companions with you, to plant themselvesbroken and bowed down; resentment, sullenness, self-confidence,and pride, were all swept away, before the starting tears vent the entrance or issuing forth of any of my household’—with their backs against the insides of parlour doors, and pre-upon the withered cheeks. He could not bear to see them. He Mark had taken up this position, and held it quite unmoved—could not bear to think they fell at sight of him. He could ’but would you also strike at venerable Virtue? Would you?not bear to view reflected in them, the reproachful and irrevocablePast.man. Assail me. Come on, sir. Fire away!’Know that it is not defenceless. I will be its shield, youngHe hurriedly advanced to seize the old man’s hand in his, ‘Pecksniff,’ said the old man, in a feeble voice. ‘Calm your-660

Charles Dickensself. Be quiet.’taken Mary Graham’s hand in his, and whispered kindly to‘I can’t be calm,’ cried Mr Pecksniff, ‘and I won’t be quiet. her, as telling her she had no cause to be alarmed, gently pushedMy benefactor and my friend! Shall even my house be no her from him, behind his chair; and looked steadily at hisrefuge for your hoary pillow!’grandson.‘Stand aside!’ said the old man, stretching out his hand; ‘And that,’ he said, ‘is he. Ah! that is he! Say what you wish‘and let me see what it is I used to love so dearly.’to say. But come no nearer,’‘It is right that you should see it, my friend,’ said Mr ‘His sense of justice is so fine,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘that hePecksniff. ‘It is well that you should see it, my noble sir. It is will hear even him, although he knows beforehand that nothingcan come of it. Ingenuous mind!’ Mr Pecksniff did notdesirable that you should contemplate it in its true proportions.Behold it! There it is, sir. There it is!’address himself immediately to any person in saying this, butMartin could hardly be a mortal man, and not express in assuming the position of the Chorus in a Greek Tragedy, deliveredhis opinion as a commentary on the proceedings.his face something of the anger and disdain with which MrPecksniff inspired him. But beyond this he evinced no knowledgewhatever of that gentleman’s presence or existence. True, painful journey, from a hard life, from a sick-bed, from pri-‘Grandfather!’ said Martin, with great earnestness. ‘From ahe had once, and that at first, glanced at him involuntarily, vation and distress, from gloom and disappointment, fromand with supreme contempt; but for any other heed he took almost hopelessness and despair, I have come back to you.’of him, there might have been nothing in his place save empty ‘Rovers of this sort,’ observed Mr Pecksniff, as Chorus, ‘veryair.commonly come back when they find they don’t meet withAs Mr Pecksniff withdrew from between them, agreeably the success they expected in their marauding ravages.’to the wish just now expressed (which he did during the deliveryof the observations last recorded), old Martin, who had Mark, ‘whom I first knew in this place, and who went‘But for this faithful man,’ said Martin, turning towardsaway661

Martin Chuzzlewitwith me voluntarily, as a servant, but has been, throughout, I do not now.’my zealous and devoted friend; but for him, I must have died The Chorus put its hand in its waistcoat, and smiled. ‘Let him go on,abroad. Far from home, far from any help or consolation; far my worthy sir,’ it said. ‘I know what you are thinking of, but don’t expressfrom the probability even of my wretched fate being ever it prematurely.’known to any one who cared to hear it—oh, that you would Old Martin raised his eyes to Mr Pecksniff’s face, and appearingto derive renewed instruction from his looks andlet me say, of being known to you!’The old man looked at Mr Pecksniff. Mr Pecksniff looked words, said, once again:at him. ‘Did you speak, my worthy sir?’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘Go on!’with a smile. The old man answered in the negative. ‘I know ‘I have little more to say,’ returned Martin. ‘And as I say itwhat you thought,’ said Mr Pecksniff, with another smile. ‘Let now, with little or no hope, Grandfather; whatever dawn ofhim go on my friend. The development of self-interest in the hope I had on entering the room; believe it to be true. Athuman mind is always a curious study. Let him go on, sir.’ least, believe it to be true.’‘Go on!’ observed the old man; in a mechanical obedience, ‘Beautiful Truth!’ exclaimed the Chorus, looking upward.it appeared, to Mr Pecksniff’s suggestion.‘How is your name profaned by vicious persons! You don’t‘I have been so wretched and so poor,’ said Martin, ‘that I live in a well, my holy principle, but on the lips of false mankind.It is hard to bear with mankind, dear sir’—addressingam indebted to the charitable help of a stranger, in a land ofstrangers, for the means of returning here. All this tells against the elder Mr Chuzzlewit; ‘but let us do so meekly. It is ourme in your mind, I know. I have given you cause to think I duty so to do. Let us be among the Few who do their duty.have been driven here wholly by want, and have not been led If,’ pursued the Chorus, soaring up into a lofty flight, ‘as theon, in any degree, by affection or regret. When I parted from poet informs us, England expects Every man to do his duty,you, Grandfather, I deserved that suspicion, but I do not now. England is the most sanguine country on the face of the earth,662

Charles Dickensand will find itself continually disappointed.’self-willed, obdurate, and haughty, as I was; or have been disciplinedin a rough school. Let the voice of nature and asso-‘Upon that subject,’ said Martin, looking calmly at the oldman as he spoke, but glancing once at Mary, whose face was ciation plead between us, Grandfather; and do not, for onenow buried in her hands, upon the back of his easy-chair; fault, however thankless, quite reject me!’‘upon that subject which first occasioned a division between As he ceased, the grey head of the old man drooped again;us, my mind and heart are incapable of change. Whatever and he concealed his face behind his outspread fingers.influence they have undergone, since that unhappy time, has ‘My dear sir,’ cried Mr Pecksniff, bending over him, ‘younot been one to weaken but to strengthen me. I cannot professsorrow for that, nor irresolution in that, nor shame in but you must not allow the shameless conduct of one whommust not give way to this. It is very natural, and very amiable,that. Nor would you wish me, I know. But that I might have you long ago cast off, to move you so far. Rouse yourself.trusted to your love, if I had thrown myself manfully upon Think,’ said Pecksniff, ‘think of Me, my friend.’it; that I might have won you over with ease, if I had been ‘I will,’ returned old Martin, looking up into his face. ‘Youmore yielding and more considerate; that I should have best recall me to myself. I will.’remembered myself in forgetting myself, and recollecting you; ‘Why, what,’ said Mr Pecksniff, sitting down beside him inreflection, solitude, and misery, have taught me. I came resolvedto say this, and to ask your forgiveness; not so much in playfully on the arm, ‘what is the matter with my strong-a chair which he drew up for the purpose, and tapping himhope for the future, as in regret for the past; for all that I minded compatriot, if I may venture to take the liberty ofwould ask of you is, that you would aid me to live. Help me calling him by that endearing expression? Shall I have to scoldto get honest work to do, and I would do it. My condition my coadjutor, or to reason with an intellect like this? I thinkplaces me at the disadvantage of seeming to have only my not.’selfish ends to serve, but try if that be so or not. Try if I be ‘No, no. There is no occasion,’ said the old man. ‘A mo-663

Martin Chuzzlewitmentary feeling. Nothing more.’steadily at Mr Pecksniff.‘Indignation,’ observed Mr Pecksniff, ‘Will bring the scaldingtear into the honest eye, I know’—he wiped his own elabosionof your being dismissed from it with disgrace,’ said Mr‘When I ordered you to leave this house upon the last occarately.‘But we have highest duties to perform than that. Rouse Pecksniff; ‘when, stung and stimulated beyond endurance byyourself, Mr Chuzzlewit. Shall I give expression to your your shameless conduct to this extraordinarily noble-mindedthoughts, my friend?’individual, I exclaimed “Go forth!” I told you that I wept for‘Yes,’ said old Martin, leaning back in his chair, and looking at your depravity. Do not suppose that the tear which stands inhim, half in vacancy and half in admiration, as if he were fascinated my eye at this moment, is shed for you. It is shed for him, sir.by the man. ‘Speak for me, Pecksniff, Thank you. You are true to It is shed for him.’me. Thank you!’Here Mr Pecksniff, accidentally dropping the tear in questionon a bald part of Mr Chuzzlewit’s head, wiped the place‘Do not unman me, sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, shaking his handvigorously, ‘or I shall be unequal to the task. It is not agreeableto my feelings, my good sir, to address the person who is ‘It is shed for him, sir, whom you seek to make the victimwith his pocket-handkerchief, and begged pardon.now before us, for when I ejected him from this house, after of your arts,’ said Mr Pecksniff; ‘whom you seek to plunder,hearing of his unnatural conduct from your lips, I renounced to deceive, and to mislead. It is shed in sympathy with him,communication with him for ever. But you desire it; and that and admiration of him; not in pity for him, for happily heis sufficient. Young man! The door is immediately behind the knows what you are. You shall not wrong him further, sir, incompanion of your infamy. Blush if you can; begone withouta blush, if you can’t.’asm, ‘while I have life. You may bestride my senseless corse,any way,’ said Mr Pecksniff, quite transported with enthusi-Martin looked as steadily at his grandfather as if there had sir. That is very likely. I can imagine a mind like yours derivinggreat satisfaction from any measure of that kind. But been a dead silence all this time. The old man looked no lesswhile664

Charles DickensI continue to be called upon to exist, sir, you must strike at of his zealous defender, the latter disinterested gentlemanhim through me. Awe!’ said Mr Pecksniff, shaking his head would scarcely have shown to greater advantage than on theat Martin with indignant jocularity; ‘and in such a cause you memorable afternoon when he took Tom Pinch’s last receiptwill find me, my young sir, an Ugly Customer!’in full of all demands. One really might have thought thereStill Martin looked steadily and mildly at his grandfather. was some quality in Mr Pecksniff—an emanation from the‘Will you give me no answer,’ he said, at length, ‘not a word?’ brightness and purity within him perhaps—which set off and‘You hear what has been said,’ replied the old man, without adorned his foes; they looked so gallant and so manly besideaverting his eyes from the face of Mr Pecksniff; who nodded him.encouragingly.‘Not a word?’ said Martin, for the second time.‘I have not heard your voice. I have not heard your spirit,’ ‘I remember that I have a word to say, Pecksniff,’ observedreturned Martin.the old man. ‘But a word. You spoke of being indebted to the‘Tell him again,’ said the old man, still gazing up in Mr charitable help of some stranger for the means of returning toPecksniff’s face.England. Who is he? And what help in money did he render‘I only hear,’ replied Martin, strong in his purpose from the you?’first, and stronger in it as he felt how Pecksniff winced and Although he asked this question of Martin, he did not lookshrunk beneath his contempt; ‘I only hear what you say to towards him, but kept his eyes on Mr Pecksniff as before. Itme, grandfather.’appeared to have become a habit with him, both in a literalPerhaps it was well for Mr Pecksniff that his venerable friend and figurative sense, to look to Mr Pecksniff alone.found in his (Mr Pecksniff’s) features an exclusive and engrossingobject of contemplation, for if his eyes had gone and hastily wrote down the particulars of his debt to Mr Bevan.Martin took out his pencil, tore a leaf from his pocket-book,astray, and he had compared young Martin’s bearing with that The old man stretched out his hand for the paper, and took it;665

Martin Chuzzlewitbut his eyes did not wander from Mr Pecksniff’s face. again.’‘It would be a poor pride and a false humility,’ said Martin, ‘You have nothing more to say?’ inquired the old man,in a low voice, ‘to say, I do not wish that to be paid, or that I laying his hand with unusual earnestness on Mr Pecksniff’shave any present hope of being able to pay it. But I never felt sleeve.my poverty so deeply as I feel it now.’Mr Pecksniff would not say what rose to his lips. For reproacheshe observed, were useless.‘Read it to me, Pecksniff,’ said the old man.Mr Pecksniff, after approaching the perusal of the paper as ‘You have nothing at all to urge? You are sure of that! If youif it were a manuscript confession of a murder, complied. have, no matter what it is, speak freely. I will oppose nothing‘I think, Pecksniff,’ said old Martin, ‘I could wish that to be that you ask of me,’ said the old man.discharged. I should not like the lender, who was abroad, who had The tears rose in such abundance to Mr Pecksniff’s eyes atno opportunity of making inquiry, and who did (as he thought) a this proof of unlimited confidence on the part of his friend,kind action, to suffer.’that he was fain to clasp the bridge of his nose convulsively‘An honourable sentiment, my dear sir. Your own entirely. before he could at all compose himself. When he had theBut a dangerous precedent,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘permit me to power of utterance again, he said with great emotion, that hesuggest.’hoped he should live to deserve this; and added, that he had‘It shall not be a precedent,’ returned the old man. ‘It is the no other observation whatever to make.only recognition of him. But we will talk of it again. You For a few moments the old man sat looking at him, withshall advise me. There is nothing else?’that blank and motionless expression which is not uncommonin the faces of those whose faculties are on the wane, in‘Nothing else,’ said Mr Pecksniff buoyantly, ‘but for youto recover this intrusion—this cowardly and indefensible outrageon your feelings—with all possible dispatch, and smile from which Mark withdrew to make way forage. But he rose up firmly too, and walked towards the door,him.666

Charles DickensThe obsequious Mr Pecksniff proffered his arm. The old ‘I was, dear Martin, and to some extent am now; but myman took it. Turning at the door, he said to Martin, waving chief source of unhappiness has been anxiety for you. Whyhim off with his hand,did you leave us in such terrible suspense?’‘You have heard him. Go away. It is all over. Go!’‘Sickness, distance; the dread of hinting at our real condition,the impossibility of concealing it except in perfect si-Mr Pecksniff murmured certain cheering expressions of sympathyand encouragement as they retired; and Martin, awakeningfrom the stupor into which the closing portion of this infinitely more than uncertainty and doubt,’ said Martin,lence; the knowledge that the truth would have pained youscene had plunged him, to the opportunity afforded by their hurriedly; as indeed everything else was done and said, indeparture, caught the innocent cause of all in his embrace, those few hurried moments, ‘were the causes of my writingand pressed her to his heart.only once. But Pecksniff? You needn’t fear to tell me the‘Dear girl!’ said Martin. ‘He has not changed you. Why, whole tale; for you saw me with him face to face, hearingwhat an impotent and harmless knave the fellow is!’ him speak, and not taking him by the throat; what is the‘You have restrained yourself so nobly! You have borne so history of his pursuit of you? Is it known to my grandfather?’much!’‘Restrained myself!’ cried Martin, cheerfully. ‘You were by, and ‘Yes.’were unchanged, I knew. What more advantage did I want? The ‘And he assists him in it?’sight of me was such a bitterness to the dog, that I had my triumphin his being forced to endure it. But tell me, love—for the ‘Thank Heaven!’ cried Martin, ‘that it leaves his mind un-‘No,’ she answered eagerly.few hasty words we can exchange now are precious—what is this clouded in that one respect!’which has been rumoured to me? Is it true that you are persecutedby this knave’s addresses?’When this man had sufficiently prepared his mind, he‘I do not think,’ said Mary, ‘it was known to him at first.re-667

Martin Chuzzlewitvealed it to him by degrees. I think so, but I only know it What former fancy or old habit survives in this, when his heartfrom my own impression: now from anything they told me. has turned so cold to you, is a mystery I cannot penetrate; butThen he spoke to me alone.’it has been, and it is, a happiness to me, that I remained true to‘My grandfather did?’ said Martin.him; that if he should wake from his delusion, even at the‘Yes—spoke to me alone, and told me—’point of death, I am here, love, to recall you to his thoughts.’‘What the hound had said,’ cried Martin. ‘Don’t repeat it.’ Martin looked with admiration on her glowing face, and‘And said I knew well what qualities he possessed; that he pressed his lips to hers.was moderately rich; in good repute; and high in his favour ‘I have sometimes heard, and read,’ she said, ‘that thoseand confidence. But seeing me very much distressed, he said whose powers had been enfeebled long ago, and whose livesthat he would not control or force my inclinations, but would had faded, as it were, into a dream, have been known to rousecontent himself with telling me the fact. He would not pain themselves before death, and inquire for familiar faces onceme by dwelling on it, or reverting to it; nor has he ever done very dear to them; but forgotten, unrecognized, hated even,so since, but has truly kept his word.’in the meantime. Think, if with his old impressions of this‘The man himself?—’ asked Martin.man, he should suddenly resume his former self, and find in‘He has had few opportunities of pursuing his suit. I have him his only friend!’never walked out alone, or remained alone an instant in his ‘I would not urge you to abandon him, dearest,’ said Martin,‘though I could count the years we are to wear out asun-presence. Dear Martin, I must tell you,’ she continued, ‘thatthe kindness of your grandfather to me remains unchanged. I der. But the influence this fellow exercises over him has steadilyam his companion still. An indescribable tenderness and compassionseem to have mingled themselves with his old regard; She could not help admitting that. Steadily, imperceptibly,increased, I fear.’and if I were his only child, I could not have a gentler father. and surely, until it was paramount and supreme. She herself668

Charles Dickenshad none; and yet he treated her with more affection than at and Jonas too, with not a little about himself into the bargain;any previous time. Martin thought the inconsistency a part for though lovers are remarkable for leaving a great deal unsaidof his weakness and decay.on all occasions, and very properly desiring to come back and say‘Does the influence extend to fear?’ said Martin. ‘Is he timid it, they are remarkable also for a wonderful power of condensation,and can, in one way or other, give utterance to more lan-of asserting his own opinion in the presence of this infatuation?I fancied so just now.’guage—eloquent language—in any given short space of time,‘I have thought so, often. Often when we are sitting alone, than all the six hundred and fifty-eight members in the CommonsHouse of Parliament of the United Kingdom of Greatalmost as we used to do, and I have been reading a favouritebook to him or he has been talking quite cheerfully, I have Britain and Ireland; who are strong lovers no doubt, but of theirobserved that the entrance of Mr Pecksniff has changed his country only, which makes all the difference; for in a passion ofwhole demeanour. He has broken off immediately, and becomewhat you have seen to-day. When we first came here he as many words as possible, and express nothing whatever.that kind (which is not always returned), it is the custom to usehad his impetuous outbreaks, in which it was not easy for Mr A caution from Mr Tapley; a hasty interchange of farewells,Pecksniff with his utmost plausibility to appease him. But and of something else which the proverb says must not be toldthese have long since dwindled away. He defers to him in of afterwards; a white hand held out to Mr Tapley himself, whicheverything, and has no opinion upon any question, but that he kissed with the devotion of a knight-errant; more farewells,which is forced upon him by this treacherous man.’ more something else’s; a parting word from Martin that he wouldSuch was the account, rapidly furnished in whispers, and interrupted,brief as it was, by many false alarms of Mr Pecksniff’s knows what, but he quite believed it); and Mark and he stoodwrite from London and would do great things there yet (Heavenreturn; which Martin received of his grandfather’s decline, and of on the outside of the Pecksniffian halls.that good gentleman’s ascendancy. He heard of Tom Pinch too, ‘A short interview after such an absence!’ said Martin, sor-669

Martin Chuzzlewitrowfully. ‘But we are well out of the house. We might have much to spare.’placed ourselves in a false position by remaining there, even Coming in sight of the Dragon, they saw a travelling carriageat the door.so long, Mark.’‘I don’t know about ourselves, sir,’ he returned; ‘but somebodyelse would have got into a false position, if he had hap-he came in depend upon it. What’s in the wind now? A new‘And a Salisbury carriage, eh?’ said Mr Tapley. ‘That’s whatpened to come back again, while we was there. I had the door pupil, I shouldn’t wonder. P’raps it’s a order for another grammar-school,of the same pattern as the last.’all ready, sir. If Pecksniff had showed his head, or had only somuch as listened behind it, I would have caught him like a Before they could enter at the door, Mrs Lupin came runningout; and beckoning them to the carriage showed them awalnut. He’s the sort of man,’ added Mr Tapley, musing, ‘aswould squeeze soft, I know.’portmanteau with the name of Chuzzlewit upon it.A person who was evidently going to Mr Pecksniff’s house, ‘Miss Pecksniff’s husband that was,’ said the good womanpassed them at this moment. He raised his eyes at the mentionof the architect’s name; and when he had gone on a few was quite in a worry till you came back.’to Martin. ‘I didn’t know what terms you might be on, andyards, stopped and gazed at them. Mr Tapley, also, looked ‘He and I have never interchanged a word yet,’ observedover his shoulder, and so did Martin; for the stranger, as he Martin; ‘and as I have no wish to be better or worse acquaintedpassed, had looked very sharply at them.with him, I will not put myself in his way. We passed him on‘Who may that be, I wonder!’ said Martin. ‘The face seems the road, I have no doubt. I am glad he timed his coming asfamiliar to me, but I don’t know the man.’he did. Upon my word! Miss Pecksniff’s husband travels‘He seems to have a amiable desire that his face should be gayly!’tolerable familiar to us,’ said Mr Tapley, ‘for he’s a-staring ‘A very fine-looking gentleman with him—in the best roompretty hard. He’d better not waste his beauty, for he ain’t got now,’ whispered Mrs Lupin, glancing up at the window as670

Charles Dickensthey went into the house. ‘He has ordered everything that canbe got for dinner; and has the glossiest moustaches and whiskersever you saw.’CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR‘Has he?’ cried Martin, ‘why then we’ll endeavour to avoidFURTHER CONTINUATION OF THE ENhimtoo, in the hope that our self-denial may be strong enoughTERPRISEfor the sacrifice. It is only for a few hours,’ said Martin, droppingwearily into a chair behind the little screen in the bar.OF MR JONAS AND HIS FRIEND‘Our visit has met with no success, my dear Mrs Lupin, and IIT WAS A SPECIAL QUALITY, among the many admirable qualitiespossessed by Mr Pecksniff, that the more he was foundmust go to London.’‘Dear, dear!’ cried the hostess.out, the more hypocrisy he practised. Let him be discomfited‘Yes, one foul wind no more makes a winter, than one swallowmakes a summer. I’ll try it again. Tom Pinch has succeeded.in one quarter, and he refreshed and recompensed himself bycarrying the war into another. If his workings and windingsWith his advice to guide me, I may do the same. I took Tomwere detected by A, so much the greater reason was there forunder my protection once, God save the mark!’ said Martin,practicing without loss of time on B, if it were only to keepwith a melancholy smile; ‘and promised I would make his fortune.Perhaps Tom will take me under his protection now, andhis hand in. He had never been such a saintly and improvingspectacle to all about him, as after his detection by Thomasteach me how to earn my bread.’Pinch. He had scarcely ever been at once so tender in his humanity,and so dignified and exalted in his virtue, as whenyoung Martin’s scorn was fresh and hot upon him.Having this large stock of superfluous sentiment and moralityon hand which must positively be cleared off at any671

Martin Chuzzlewitsacrifice, Mr Pecksniff no sooner heard his son-in-law announced,than he regarded him as a kind of wholesale or gen-‘I have heard of it,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘from headquarters;sweetheart, I suppose?’eral order, to be immediately executed. Descending, therefore,swiftly to the parlour, and clasping the young man in his contemplate the loss of my remaining daughter, Jonas—I amfrom my child herself I will not deny that it moved me toarms, he exclaimed, with looks and gestures that denoted the afraid we parents are selfish, I am afraid we are—but it hasperturbation of his spirit:ever been the study of my life to qualify them for the domestichearth; and it is a sphere which Cherry will adorn.’‘Jonas. My child—she is well! There is nothing the matter?’‘What, you’re at it again, are you?’ replied his son-in-law. ‘She need adorn some sphere or other,’ observed the sonin-law,for she ain’t very ornamental in general.’‘Even with me? Get away with you, will you?’‘Tell me she is well then,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Tell me she is ‘My girls are now provided for,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Theywell my boy!’are now happily provided for, and I have not laboured in‘She’s well enough,’ retorted Jonas, disengaging himself. vain!’‘There’s nothing the matter with her.’This is exactly what Mr Pecksniff would have said, if one‘There is nothing the matter with her!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, of his daughters had drawn a prize of thirty thousand poundssitting down in the nearest chair, and rubbing up his hair. ‘Fie in the lottery, or if the other had picked up a valuable purse inupon my weakness! I cannot help it, Jonas. Thank you. I am the street, which nobody appeared to claim. In either of thesebetter now. How is my other child; my eldest; my cases he would have invoked a patriarchal blessing on the fortunatehead, with great solemnity, and would have taken im-Cherrywerrychigo?’ said Mr Pecksniff, inventing a playful littlename for her, in the restored lightness of his heart.mense credit to himself, as having meant it from the infant’s‘She’s much about the same as usual,’ returned Jonas. ‘She cradle.sticks pretty close to the vinegar-bottle. You know she’s got a ‘Suppose we talk about something else, now,’ observed672

Charles DickensJonas, drily. ‘just for a change. Are you quite agreeable?’ ‘I’ll tell you what you may do, if you like,’ said Jonas; ‘you‘Quite,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Ah, you wag, you naughty wag! may come and dine with us at the Dragon. We were forced toYou laugh at poor old fond papa. Well! He deserves it. And come down to Salisbury last night, on some business, and Ihe don’t mind it either, for his feelings are their own reward. got him to bring me over here this morning, in his carriage; atYou have come to stay with me, Jonas?’least, not his own carriage, for we had a breakdown in the‘No. I’ve got a friend with me,’ said Jonas.night, but one we hired instead; it’s all the same. Mind what‘Bring your friend!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, in a gush of hospitality.‘Bring any number of your friends!’mixes with the best!’you’re about, you know. He’s not used to all sorts; he only‘This ain’t the sort of man to be brought,’ said Jonas, contemptuously.‘I think I see myself “bringing” him to your of you at good interest, eh?’ said Mr Pecksniff, shaking his‘Some young nobleman who has been borrowing moneyhouse, for a treat! Thank’ee all the same; but he’s a little too forefinger facetiously. ‘I shall be delighted to know the gaynear the top of the tree for that, Pecksniff.’sprig.’The good man pricked up his ears; his interest was awakened.A position near the top of the tree was greatness, virtue, twentieth part as rich as he is, you may shut up shop! We‘Borrowing!’ echoed Jonas. ‘Borrowing! When you’re agoodness, sense, genius; or, it should rather be said, a dispensationfrom all, and in itself something immeasurably better plate, and pictures, by clubbing together. A likely man toshould be pretty well off if we could buy his furniture, andthan all; with Mr Pecksniff. A man who was able to look borrow: Mr Montague! Why since I was lucky enough (come!down upon Mr Pecksniff could not be looked up at, by that and I’ll say, sharp enough, too) to get a share in the Assurancegentleman, with too great an amount of deference, or from a office that he’s President of, I’ve made—never mind whatposition of too much humility. So it always is with great I’ve made,’ said Jonas, seeming to recover all at once his usualspirits.caution. ‘You know me pretty well, and I don’t blab about673

Martin Chuzzlewitsuch things. But, Ecod, I’ve made a trifle.’what he was going to say.‘Really, my dear Jonas,’ cried Mr Pecksniff, with much ‘Ecod!’ he answered. ‘Pecksniff if I knew how you meantwarmth, ‘a gentleman like this should receive some attention. to leave your money, I could put you in the way of doublingWould he like to see the church? or if he has a taste for the it in no time. It wouldn’t be bad to keep a chance like thisfine arts—which I have no doubt he has, from the descriptionyou give of his circumstances—I can send him down a ‘Jonas!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, much affected, ‘I am not asnug in the family. But you’re such a deep one!’few portfolios. Salisbury Cathedral, my dear Jonas,’ said Mr diplomatical character; my heart is in my hand. By far thePecksniff; the mention of the portfolios and his anxiety to greater part of the inconsiderable savings I have accumulateddisplay himself to advantage, suggesting his usual phraseologyin that regard, ‘is an edifice replete with venerable associareer,is already given, devised, and bequeathed (correct me,in the course of—I hope—a not dishonourable or useless cations,and strikingly suggestive of the loftiest emotions. It is my dear Jonas, if I am technically wrong), with expressionshere we contemplate the work of bygone ages. It is here we of confidence, which I will not repeat; and in securities whichlisten to the swelling organ, as we stroll through the reverberatingaisles. We have drawings of this celebrated structure from I will not, whom I need not, name.’ Here he gave the hand ofit is unnecessary to mention to a person whom I cannot, whomthe North, from the South, from the East, from the West, his son-in-law a fervent squeeze, as if he would have added,from the South-East, from the Nor’West—’‘God bless you; be very careful of it when you get it!’During this digression, and indeed during the whole dialogue,Jonas had been rocking on his chair, with his hands in think better of what he had had in his mind, said, ‘No. He wouldMr Jonas only shook his head and laughed, and, seeming tohis pockets and his head thrown cunningly on one side. He keep his own counsel.’ But as he observed that he would take alooked at Mr Pecksniff now with such shrewd meaning twinklingin his eyes, that Mr Pecksniff stopped, and asked him he could leave a card for Mr Montague, as they went along, bywalk, Mr Pecksniff insisted on accompanying him, remarking thatway674

Charles Dickensof gentleman-usher to himself at dinner-time. Which he did. bound?In the course of their walk, Mr Jonas affected to maintain Little did Mr Pecksniff think on what a very green spot hethat close reserve which had operated as a timely check upon planted one foot at that moment! Little did he foresee whenhim during the foregoing dialogue. And as he made no attemptto conciliate Mr Pecksniff, but, on the contrary, was down with his own!he said, ‘All is but dust!’ how very shortly he would comemore boorish and rude to him than usual, that gentleman, so Inch by inch, in his grudging and ill-conditioned way; sustainedto the life, for the hope of making Mr Pecksniff sufferfar from suspecting his real design, laid himself out to beattacked with advantage. For it is in the nature of a knave to in that tender place, the pocket, where Jonas smarted so terriblyhimself, gave him an additional and malicious interest inthink the tools with which he works indispensable to knavery;and knowing what he would do himself in such a case, the wiles he was set on to practise; inch by inch, and bit byMr Pecksniff argued, ‘if this young man wanted anything of bit, Jonas rather allowed the dazzling prospects of the Anglomefor his own ends, he would be polite and deferential.’ Bengalee establishment to escape him, than paraded themThe more Jonas repelled him in his hints and inquiries, the before his greedy listener. And in the same niggardly spirit, hemore solicitous, therefore, Mr Pecksniff became to be initiatedinto the golden mysteries at which he had obscurely of course), that a consciousness of not having any great natu-left Mr Pecksniff to infer, if he chose (which he DID choose,glanced. Why should there be cold and worldly secrets, he ral gifts of speech and manner himself, rendered him desirousobserved, between relations? What was life without confidence?If the chosen husband of his daughter, the man to who was well endowed in those respects, and so atone for histo have the credit of introducing to Mr Montague some onewhom he had delivered her with so much pride and hope, own deficiencies. Otherwise, he muttered discontentedly, hesuch bounding and such beaming joy; if he were not a green would have seen his beloved father-in-law ‘far enough off,’spot in the barren waste of life, where was that oasis to be before he would have taken him into his confidence.675

Martin ChuzzlewitPrimed in this artful manner, Mr Pecksniff presented himselfat dinner-time in such a state of suavity, benevolence, cheer-‘Is the gentleman here now?’ asked Montague, turningbeen proud indeed to have taken you by the hand.’fulness, politeness, and cordiality, as even he had perhaps never deeply red. ‘He is,’ said Mr Pecksniff.attained before. The frankness of the country gentleman, the ‘You said nothing about that, Chuzzlewit.’refinement of the artist, the good-humoured allowance of the ‘I didn’t suppose you’d care to hear of it,’ returned Jonas.man of the world; philanthropy, forbearance, piety, toleration, ‘You wouldn’t care to know him, I can promise you.’all blended together in a flexible adaptability to anything and ‘Jonas! my dear Jonas!’ remonstrated Mr Pecksniff. ‘Really!’everything; were expressed in Mr Pecksniff, as he shook handswith the great speculator and capitalist.‘Oh! it’s all very well for you to speak up for him,’ said‘Welcome, respected sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘to our humble Jonas. ‘You have nailed him. You’ll get a fortune by him.’village! We are a simple people; primitive clods, Mr ‘Oho! Is the wind in that quarter?’ cried Montague. ‘Ha,Montague; but we can appreciate the honour of your visit, as ha, ha!’ and here they all laughed—especially Mr Pecksniff.my dear son-in-law can testify. It is very strange,’ said Mr ‘No, no!’ said that gentleman, clapping his son-in-law playfullyupon the shoulder. ‘You must not believe all that myPecksniff, pressing his hand almost reverentially, ‘but I seemto know you. That towering forehead, my dear Jonas,’ said young relative says, Mr Montague. You may believe him inMr Pecksniff aside, ‘and those clustering masses of rich hair— official business, and trust him in official business, but youI must have seen you, my dear sir, in the sparkling throng.’ must not attach importance to his flights of fancy.’Nothing was more probable, they all agreed.‘Upon my life, Mr Pecksniff,’ cried Montague, ‘I attach the‘I could have wished,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘to have had the greatest importance to that last observation of his. I trust andhonour of introducing you to an elderly inmate of our house: hope it’s true. Money cannot be turned and turned again quicklyto the uncle of our friend. Mr Chuzzlewit, sir, would have enough in the ordinary course, Mr Pecksniff. There is nothing676

Charles Dickenslike building our fortune on the weaknesses of mankind.’ mind ran upon it; in one way or another he was constantly‘Oh fie! oh fie, for shame!’ cried Mr Pecksniff. But they all coming back to it; he must make a convert of him, he said.laughed again—especially Mr Pecksniff.And as often as Mr Montague repeated his sentiment about‘I give you my honour that WE do it,’ said Montague. building fortunes on the weaknesses of mankind, and added‘Oh fie, fie!’ cried Mr Pecksniff. ‘You are very pleasant. That frankly, ‘WE do it!’ just as often Mr Pecksniff repeated ‘Oh fie!I am sure you don’t! That I am sure you don’t! How CAN oh fie, for shame! I am sure you don’t. How can you, youyou, you know?’know?’ laying a greater stress each time on those last words.Again they all laughed in concert; and again Mr Pecksniff The frequent repetition of this playful inquiry on the partlaughed especially.of Mr Pecksniff, led at last to playful answers on the part ofThis was very agreeable indeed. It was confidential, easy, Mr Montague; but after some little sharp-shooting on bothstraight-forward; and still left Mr Pecksniff in the position of sides, Mr Pecksniff became grave, almost to tears; observingbeing in a gentle way the Mentor of the party. The greatest that if Mr Montague would give him leave, he would drinkachievements in the article of cookery that the Dragon had ever the health of his young kinsman, Mr Jonas; congratulatingperformed, were set before them; the oldest and best wines in him upon the valuable and distinguished friendship he hadthe Dragon’s cellar saw the light on that occasion; a thousand formed, but envying him, he would confess, his usefulness tobubbles, indicative of the wealth and station of Mr Montague his fellow-creatures. For, if he understood the objects of thatin the depths of his pursuits, were constantly rising to the surfaceof the conversation; and they were as frank and merry as nected—knowing them but imperfectly—they were calcu-Institution with which he was newly and advantageously con-three honest men could be. Mr Pecksniff thought it a pity (he lated to do Good; and for his (Mr Pecksniff’s) part, if hesaid so) that Mr Montague should think lightly of mankind could in any way promote them, he thought he would beand their weaknesses. He was anxious upon this subject; his able to lay his head upon his pillow every night, with an abso-677

Martin Chuzzlewitlute certainty of going to sleep at once.sum which would complete the proprietorship in this snugThe transition from this accidental remark (for it was quite concern, was nearly equal to Mr Pecksniff’s whole hoard; notaccidental and had fallen from Mr Pecksniff in the openness of counting Mr Chuzzlewit, that is to say, whom he lookedhis soul), to the discussion of the subject as a matter of business,was easy. Books, papers, statements, tables, calculations him the more to make a dash with his own private sprats forupon as money in the Bank, the possession of which inclinedof various kinds, were soon spread out before them; and as the capture of such a whale as Mr Montague described. Thethey were all framed with one object, it is not surprising that returns began almost immediately, and were immense. Thethey should all have tended to one end. But still, whenever end of it was, that Mr Pecksniff agreed to become the lastMontague enlarged upon the profits of the office, and said that partner and proprietor in the Anglo-Bengalee, and made anas long as there were gulls upon the wing it must succeed, Mr appointment to dine with Mr Montague, at Salisbury, on thePecksniff mildly said ‘Oh fie!’—and might indeed have remonstratedwith him, but that he knew he was joking. Mr Pecksniff It took so long to bring the subject to this head, that it wasnext day but one, then and there to complete the negotiation.did know he was joking; because he said so.nearly midnight when they parted. When Mr Pecksniff walkedThere never had been before, and there never would be again, downstairs to the door, he found Mrs Lupin standing there,such an opportunity for the investment of a considerable sum looking out.(the rate of advantage increased in proportion to the amount ‘Ah, my good friend!’ he said; ‘not a-bed yet! Contemplatingthe stars, Mrs Lupin?’invested), as at that moment. The only time that had at allapproached it, was the time when Jonas had come into the ‘It’s a beautiful starlight night, sir.’concern; which made him ill-natured now, and inclined him ‘A beautiful starlight night,’ said Mr Pecksniff, looking up.to pick out a doubt in this place, and a flaw in that, and ‘Behold the planets, how they shine! Behold the—those twogrumbling to advise Mr Pecksniff to think better of it. The persons who were here this morning have left your house, I678

Charles Dickenshope, Mrs Lupin?’With those words, the good man patted Mrs Lupin’s hand‘Yes, sir. They are gone.’between his own, as if he would have added ‘think of this,‘I am glad to hear it,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Behold the wondersof the firmament, Mrs Lupin! how glorious is the scene! rapture, with his hat under his arm.my good woman!’ and walked away in a sort of ecstasy orWhen I look up at those shining orbs, I think that each of Jonas sat in the attitude in which Mr Pecksniff had leftthem is winking to the other to take notice of the vanity of him, gazing moodily at his friend; who, surrounded by a heapmen’s pursuits. My fellowmen!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, shaking of documents, was writing something on an oblong slip ofhis head in pity; ‘you are much mistaken; my wormy relatives,you are much deceived! The stars are perfectly contented ‘You mean to wait at Salisbury over the day after to-mor-paper.(I suppose so) in their several spheres. Why are not you? Oh! row, do you, then?’ said Jonas.do not strive and struggle to enrich yourselves, or to get the ‘You heard our appointment,’ returned Montague, withoutraising his eyes. ‘In any case I should have waited to seebetter of each other, my deluded friends, but look up there,with me!’after the boy.’Mrs Lupin shook her head, and heaved a sigh. It was very They appeared to have changed places again; Montague beingaffecting.in high spirits; Jonas gloomy and lowering.‘Look up there, with me!’ repeated Mr Pecksniff, stretchingout his hand; ‘With me, a humble individual who is also ‘I want you to put your name here,’ he returned, glancing‘You don’t want me, I suppose?’ said Jonas.an insect like yourselves. Can silver, gold, or precious stones, at him with a smile, ‘as soon as I have filled up the stamp. Isparkle like those constellations! I think not. Then do not may as well have your note of hand for that extra capital.thirst for silver, gold, or precious stones; but look up there, That’s all I want. If you wish to go home, I can manage Mrwith me!’Pecksniff now, alone. There is a perfect understanding be-679

Martin Chuzzlewittween us.’when he used a different pen, and the right ink, he madeJonas sat scowling at him as he wrote, in silence. When he some scratches on another paper first, as half believing theyhad finished his writing, and had dried it on the blotting paperin his travelling-desk; he looked up, and tossed the pen ‘Black enough, this time,’ he said, handing the note towould turn red also.towards him.Montague. ‘Good-bye.’‘What, not a day’s grace, not a day’s trust, eh?’ said Jonas ‘Going now! how do you mean to get away from here?’bitterly. ‘Not after the pains I have taken with to-night’s work?’ ‘I shall cross early in the morning to the high road, before‘To night’s work was a part of our bargain,’ replied you are out of bed; and catch the day-coach, going up. Goodbye!’Montague; ‘and so was this.’‘You drive a hard bargain,’ said Jonas, advancing to the table. ‘You are in a hurry!’‘You know best. Give it here!’‘I have something to do,’ said Jonas. ‘Good-bye!’Montague gave him the paper. After pausing as if he could His friend looked after him as he went out, in surprise,not make up his mind to put his name to it, Jonas dipped his which gradually gave place to an air of satisfaction and relief.pen hastily in the nearest inkstand, and began to write. But he ‘It happens all the better. It brings about what I wanted,had scarcely marked the paper when he started back, in a panic. without any difficulty. I shall travel home alone.’‘Why, what the devil’s this?’ he said. ‘It’s bloody!’He had dipped the pen, as another moment showed, intored ink. But he attached a strange degree of importance to themistake. He asked how it had come there, who had broughtit, why it had been brought; and looked at Montague, atfirst, as if he thought he had put a trick upon him. Even680

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVEIN WHICH TOM PINCH AND HIS SISTERTAKE A LITTLE PLEASURE; BUT QUITEIN A DOMESTIC WAY, AND WITH NOCEREMONY ABOUT ITTOM PINCH AND HIS sister having to part, for the dispatch ofthe morning’s business, immediately after the dispersion ofthe other actors in the scene upon the wharf with which thereader has been already made acquainted, had no opportunityof discussing the subject at that time. But Tom, in his solitaryoffice, and Ruth, in the triangular parlour, thought aboutnothing else all day; and, when their hour of meeting in theafternoon approached, they were very full of it, to be sure.There was a little plot between them, that Tom should alwayscome out of the Temple by one way; and that was pastthe fountain. Coming through Fountain Court, he was justto glance down the steps leading into Garden Court, and tolook once all round him; and if Ruth had come to meet him,Charles Dickens681there he would see her; not sauntering, you understand (onaccount of the clerks), but coming briskly up, with the bestlittle laugh upon her face that ever played in opposition tothe fountain, and beat it all to nothing. For, fifty to one, Tomhad been looking for her in the wrong direction, and hadquite given her up, while she had been tripping towards himfrom the first; jingling that little reticule of hers (with all thekeys in it) to attract his wandering observation.Whether there was life enough left in the slow vegetationof Fountain Court for the smoky shrubs to have any consciousnessof the brightest and purest-hearted little woman inthe world, is a question for gardeners, and those who are learnedin the loves of plants. But, that it was a good thing for thatsame paved yard to have such a delicate little figure flittingthrough it; that it passed like a smile from the grimy oldhouses, and the worn flagstones, and left them duller, darker,sterner than before; there is no sort of doubt. The Templefountain might have leaped up twenty feet to greet the springof hopeful maidenhood, that in her person stole on, sparkling,through the dry and dusty channels of the Law; thechirping sparrows, bred in Temple chinks and crannies, might

Martin Chuzzlewithave held their peace to listen to imaginary skylarks, as so moment. The Temple is a public thoroughfare; they mayfresh a little creature passed; the dingy boughs, unused to write up on the gates that it is not, but so long as the gatesdroop, otherwise than in their puny growth, might have bent are left open it is, and will be; and Mr Westlock had as gooddown in a kindred gracefulness to shed their benedictions on a right to be there as anybody else. But why did she runher graceful head; old love letters, shut up in iron boxes in the away, then? Not being ill dressed, for she was much tooneighbouring offices, and made of no account among the neat for that, why did she run away? The brown hair thatheaps of family papers into which they had strayed, and of had fallen down beneath her bonnet, and had one impertinentimp of a false flower clinging to it, boastful of its li-which, in their degeneracy, they formed a part, might havestirred and fluttered with a moment’s recollection of their cence before all men, that could not have been the cause,ancient tenderness, as she went lightly by. Anything might for it looked charming. Oh! foolish, panting, frightenedhave happened that did not happen, and never will, for the little heart, why did she run away!love of Ruth.Merrily the tiny fountain played, and merrily the dimplesSomething happened, too, upon the afternoon of which sparkled on its sunny face. John Westlock hurried after her.the history treats. Not for her love. Oh no! quite by accident, Softly the whispering water broke and fell; as roguishly theand without the least reference to her at all.dimples twinkled, as he stole upon her footsteps.Either she was a little too soon, or Tom was a little too Oh, foolish, panting, timid little heart, why did she feignlate—she was so precise in general, that she timed it to half a to be unconscious of his coming! Why wish herself so farminute—but no Tom was there. Well! But was anybody else away, yet be so flutteringly happy there!there, that she blushed so deeply, after looking round, and ‘I felt sure it was you,’ said John, when he overtook her intripped off down the steps with such unusual expedition? the sanctuary of Garden Court. ‘I knew I couldn’t be mistaken.’Why, the fact is, that Mr Westlock was passing at that682

Charles DickensShe was so surprised.would walk away home, John Westlock darted off to stop him.‘You are waiting for your brother,’ said John. ‘Let me bear This made the approach of poor little Ruth, by herself, oneyou company.’of the most embarrassing of circumstances. There was Tom,So light was the touch of the coy little hand, that he glanced manifesting extreme surprise (he had no presence of mind,down to assure himself he had it on his arm. But his glance, that Tom, on small occasions); there was John, making asstopping for an instant at the bright eyes, forgot its first design,and went no farther.most unnecessary elaboration; and here was she, coming to-light of it as he could, but explaining at the same time withThey walked up and down three or four times, speaking wards them, with both of them looking at her, conscious ofabout Tom and his mysterious employment. Now that was a blushing to a terrible extent, but trying to throw up her eyebrowscarelessly, and pout her rosy lips, as if she were thevery natural and innocent subject, surely. Then why, wheneverRuth lifted up her eyes, did she let them fall again immediately, coolest and most unconcerned of little women.and seek the uncongenial pavement of the court? They were Merrily the fountain plashed and plashed, until the dimples,not such eyes as shun the light; they were not such eyes as requireto be hoarded to enhance their value. They were much covered the whole surface of the basin.merging into one another, swelled into a general smile, thattoo precious and too genuine to stand in need of arts like those. ‘What an extraordinary meeting!’ said Tom. ‘I should neverSomebody must have been looking at them!have dreamed of seeing you two together here.’They found out Tom, though, quickly enough. This pair of ‘Quite accidental,’ John was heard to murmur.eyes descried him in the distance, the moment he appeared. He ‘Exactly,’ cried Tom; ‘that’s what I mean, you know. If itwas staring about him, as usual, in all directions but the right wasn’t accidental, there would be nothing remarkable in it.’one; and was as obstinate in not looking towards them, as if he ‘To be sure,’ said John.had intended it. As it was plain that, being left to himself, he ‘Such an out-of-the-way place for you to have met in,’ pur-683

Martin Chuzzlewitsued Tom, quite delighted. ‘Such an unlikely spot!’‘What, to-day?’ cried Tom.John rather disputed that. On the contrary, he considered it a ‘Yes, to-day. It’s close by, you know. Pray, Miss Pinch, insistupon it. It will be very disinterested, for I have nothing tovery likely spot, indeed. He was constantly passing to and frothere, he said. He shouldn’t wonder if it were to happen again. give you.’His only wonder was, that it had never happened before. ‘Oh! you must not believe that, Ruth,’ said Tom. ‘He is theBy this time Ruth had got round on the farther side of her most tremendous fellow, in his housekeeping, that I ever heardbrother, and had taken his arm. She was squeezing it now, as of, for a single man. He ought to be Lord Mayor. Well! whatmuch as to say ‘Are you going to stop here all day, you dear, do you say? Shall we go?’old, blundering Tom?’‘If you please, Tom,’ rejoined his dutiful little sister.Tom answered the squeeze as if it had been a speech. ‘John,’ ‘But I mean,’ said Tom, regarding her with smiling admiration;‘is there anything you ought to wear, and haven’t got? Ihe said, ‘if you’ll give my sister your arm, we’ll take her betweenus, and walk on. I have a curious circumstance to relate am sure I don’t know, John; she may not be able to take herto you. Our meeting could not have happened better.’ bonnet off, for anything I can tell.’Merrily the fountain leaped and danced, and merrily the There was a great deal of laughing at this, and there weresmiling dimples twinkled and expanded more and more, untilthey broke into a laugh against the basin’s rim, and van-HE said at least (and really he was right), but good, plain,divers compliments from John Westlock—not complimentsished.honest truths, which no one could deny. Ruth laughed, and‘Tom,’ said his friend, as they turned into the noisy street, all that, but she made no objection; so it was an engagement.‘I have a proposition to make. It is, that you and your sister—ifshe will so far honour a poor bachelor’s dwelling— tried another pudding. Not in rivalry; but merely to exalt‘If I had known it a little sooner,’ said John, ‘I would havegive me a great pleasure, and come and dine with me.’ that famous one. I wouldn’t on any account have had it made684

Charles Dickenswith suet.’quite a tender joke of Tom’s) beaming in his face, God bless‘Why not?’ asked Tom.it, that it might have purified the air, though Temple Bar had‘Because that cookery-book advises suet,’ said John been, as in the golden days gone by, embellished with a rowWestlock; ‘and ours was made with flour and eggs.’ of rotting human heads.‘Oh good gracious!’ cried Tom. ‘Ours was made with flour There are snug chambers in those Inns where the bachelorsand eggs, was it? Ha, ha, ha! A beefsteak pudding made with live, and, for the desolate fellows they pretend to be, it isflour and eggs! Why anybody knows better than that. I know quite surprising how well they get on. John was very patheticbetter than that! Ha, ha, ha!’on the subject of his dreary life, and the deplorable makeshiftsand apologetic contrivances it involved, but he reallyIt is unnecessary to say that Tom had been present at themaking of the pudding, and had been a devoted believer in it seemed to make himself pretty comfortable. His rooms wereall through. But he was so delighted to have this joke against the perfection of neatness and convenience at any rate; and ifhis busy little sister and was tickled to that degree at having he were anything but comfortable, the fault was certainly notfound her out, that he stopped in Temple Bar to laugh; and it theirs.was no more to Tom, that he was anathematized and knocked He had no sooner ushered Tom and his sister into his bestabout by the surly passengers, than it would have been to a room (where there was a beautiful little vase of fresh flowerspost; for he continued to exclaim with unabated good on the table, all ready for Ruth. Just as if he had expected her,humour, ‘flour and eggs! A beefsteak pudding made with flour Tom said), than, seizing his hat, he bustled out again, in hisand eggs!’ until John Westlock and his sister fairly ran away most energetically bustling, way; and presently came hurryingback, as they saw through the half-opened door, attendedfrom him, and left him to have his laugh out by himself;which he had, and then came dodging across the crowded by a fiery-faced matron attired in a crunched bonnet, withstreet to them, with such sweet temper and tenderness (it was particularly long strings to it hanging down her back; in con-685

Martin Chuzzlewitjunction with whom he instantly began to lay the cloth for them out with a face expressive of a steady purpose and impenetrablecharacter, and put them on the table. He was adinner, polishing up the wine-glasses with his own hands,brightening the silver top of the pepper-caster on his coatsleeve,drawing corks and filling decanters, with a skill and they ate and drank. He was a learned man, and knew thekind man; gentle in his manners, and much interested in whatexpedition that were quite dazzling. And as if, in the course flavour of John Westlock’s private sauces, which he softly andof this rubbing and polishing, he had rubbed an enchanted feelingly described, as he handed the little bottles round. Helamp or a magic ring, obedient to which there were twenty was a grave man, and a noiseless; for dinner being done, andthousand supernatural slaves at least, suddenly there appeared wine and fruit arranged upon the board, he vanished, box anda being in a white waistcoat, carrying under his arm a napkin, all, like something that had never been.and attended by another being with an oblong box upon his ‘Didn’t I say he was a tremendous fellow in his housekeeping?’cried Tom. ‘Bless my soul! It’s wonderful.’head, from which a banquet, piping hot, was taken out andset upon the table.‘Ah, Miss Pinch,’ said John. ‘This is the bright side of theSalmon, lamb, peas, innocent young potatoes, a cool salad, life we lead in such a place. It would be a dismal life, indeed,sliced cucumber, a tender duckling, and a tart—all there. They if it didn’t brighten up to-day’all came at the right time. Where they came from, didn’t appear;but the oblong box was constantly going and coming, like a monarch, and wouldn’t change his mode of life for any‘Don’t believe a word he says,’ cried Tom. ‘He lives hereand making its arrival known to the man in the white waistcoatby bumping modestly against the outside of the door; No, John really did not appear to pretend; for he was un-consideration. He only pretends to grumble.’for, after its first appearance, it entered the room no more. commonly earnest in his desire to have it understood that heHe was never surprised, this man; he never seemed to wonder was as dull, solitary, and uncomfortable on ordinary occasionsas an unfortunate young man could, in reason, be. at the extraordinary things he found in the box, but tookIt686

Charles Dickenswas a wretched life, he said, a miserable life. He thought of tion of her, that her name was Gamp. But of what nature thegetting rid of the chambers as soon as possible; and meant, in communication could have been which Tom had borne sofact, to put a bill up very shortly.unexpectedly; why its delivery had been entrusted to him;‘Well’ said Tom Pinch, ‘I don’t know where you can go, how it happened that the parties were involved together; andJohn, to be more comfortable. That’s all I can say. What do what secret lay at the bottom of the whole affair; perplexedYOU say, Ruth?’him very much. Tom had been sure of his taking some interestin the matter; but was not prepared for the strong interestRuth trifled with the cherries on her plate, and said that shethought Mr Westlock ought to be quite happy, and that she he showed. It held John Westlock to the subject even afterhad no doubt he was.Ruth had left the room; and evidently made him anxious toAh, foolish, panting, frightened little heart, how timidly pursue it further than as a mere subject of conversation.she said it!‘I shall remonstrate with my landlord, of course,’ said Tom;‘But you are forgetting what you had to tell, Tom; what ‘though he is a very singular secret sort of man, and not likelyoccurred this morning,’ she added in the same breath. to afford me much satisfaction; even if he knew what was in‘So I am,’ said Tom. ‘We have been so talkative on other the letter.’topics that I declare I have not had time to think of it. I’ll tell ‘Which you may swear he did,’ John interposed.it you at once, John, in case I should forget it altogether.’ ‘You think so?’On Tom’s relating what had passed upon the wharf, his ‘I am certain of it.’friend was very much surprised, and took such a great interest ‘Well!’ said Tom, ‘I shall remonstrate with him when I seein the narrative as Tom could not quite understand. He believedhe knew the old lady whose acquaintance they had made, catch him tomorrow morning), on his having asked me tohim (he goes in and out in a strange way, but I will try tohe said; and that he might venture to say, from their descrip-execute such an unpleasant commission. And I have been687

Martin Chuzzlewitthinking, John, that if I went down to Mrs What’s-her-name’s her brother were talking thus, over their wine! The gentlein the City, where I was before, you know—Mrs Todgers’s— way in which she tried to get up a little conversation with theto-morrow morning, I might find poor Mercy Pecksniff there, fiery-faced matron in the crunched bonnet, who was waitingperhaps, and be able to explain to her how I came to have any to attend her; after making a desperate rally in regard of herhand in the business.’dress, and attiring herself in a washed-out yellow gown with‘You are perfectly right, Tom,’ returned his friend, after a sprigs of the same upon it, so that it looked like a tesselatedshort interval of reflection. ‘You cannot do better. It is quite work of pats of butter. That would have been pleasant. Theclear to me that whatever the business is, there is little good in grim and griffin-like inflexibility with which the fiery-facedit; and it is so desirable for you to disentangle yourself from matron repelled these engaging advances, as proceeding fromany appearance of willful connection with it, that I would a hostile and dangerous power, who could have no businesscounsel you to see her husband, if you can, and wash your there, unless it were to deprive her of a customer, or suggesthands of it by a plain statement of the facts. I have a misgivingthat there is something dark at work here, Tom. I will tell general trifles. That would have been agreeable. The bashful,what became of the self-consuming tea and sugar, and otheryou why, at another time; when I have made an inquiry or winning, glorious curiosity, with which little Ruth, when fiery-facewas gone, peeped into the books and nick-nacks thattwo myself.’All this sounded very mysterious to Tom Pinch. But as he were lying about, and had a particular interest in some delicatepaper-matches on the chimney-piece; wondering whoknew he could rely upon his friend, he resolved to follow thisadvice.could have made them. That would have been worth seeing.Ah, but it would have been a good thing to have had a coat The faltering hand with which she tied those flowers together;of invisibility, wherein to have watched little Ruth, when she with which, almost blushing at her own fair self as imaged inwas left to herself in John Westlock’s chambers, and John and the glass, she arranged them in her breast, and looking at them688

Charles Dickenswith her head aside, now half resolved to take them out again, them captive in a stronger chain?now half resolved to leave them where they were. That would The shadows deepened, deepened, and the room becamehave been delightful!quite dark. Still Tom’s fingers wandered over the keys of theJohn seemed to think it all delightful; for coming in with piano, and still the window had its pair of tenants. At length,Tom to tea, he took his seat beside her like a man enchanted. her hand upon his shoulder, and her breath upon his forehead,roused Tom from his reverie.And when the tea-service had been removed, and Tom, sittingdown at the piano, became absorbed in some of his old ‘Dear me!’ he cried, desisting with a start. ‘I am afraid Iorgan tunes, he was still beside her at the open window, lookingout upon the twilight.Tom little thought how much consideration and politenesshave been very inconsiderate and unpolite.’There is little enough to see in Furnival’s Inn. It is a shady, he had shown!quiet place, echoing to the footsteps of the stragglers who ‘Sing something to us, my dear,’ said Tom. ‘let us hear yourhave business there; and rather monotonous and gloomy on voice. Come!’summer evenings. What gave it such a charm to them, that John Westlock added his entreaties with such earnestnessthey remained at the window as unconscious of the flight of that a flinty heart alone could have resisted them. Hers wastime as Tom himself, the dreamer, while the melodies which not a flinty heart. Oh, dear no! Quite another thing.had so often soothed his spirit were hovering again about So down she sat, and in a pleasant voice began to sing thehim! What power infused into the fading light, the gathering ballads Tom loved well. Old rhyming stories, with here anddarkness; the stars that here and there appeared; the evening there a pause for a few simple chords, such as a harper mightair, the City’s hum and stir, the very chiming of the old church have sounded in the ancient time while looking upward forclocks; such exquisite enthrallment, that the divinest regions the current of some half-remembered legend; words of oldof the earth spread out before their eyes could not have held poets, wedded to such measures that the strain of music might689

Martin Chuzzlewithave been the poet’s breath, giving utterance and expression out. Fiery-face, who was again in attendance, acknowledgedto his thoughts; and now a melody so joyous and light-hearted, her departure with so cold a curtsey that it was hardly visible;that the singer seemed incapable of sadness, until in her inconstancy(oh wicked little singer!) she relapsed, and broke Their host was bent on walking the whole distance, andand cut Tom, dead.the listeners’ hearts again; these were the simple means she would not listen to Tom’s dissuasions. Happy time, happyused to please them. And that these simple means prevailed, walk, happy parting, happy dreams! But there are some sweetand she DID please them, let the still darkened chamber, and day-dreams, so there are that put the visions of the night toits long-deferred illumination witness.shame.The candles came at last, and it was time for moving homeward.Cutting paper carefully, and rolling it about the stalks while Ruth lay sleeping, with her flowers beside her; and JohnBusily the Temple fountain murmured in the moonlight,of those same flowers, occasioned some delay; but even this Westlock sketched a portrait—whose?—from memory.was done in time, and Ruth was ready.‘Good night!’ said Tom. ‘A memorable and delightful visit,CHAPTER FORTY-SIXJohn! Good night!’John thought he would walk with them.IN WHICH MISS PECKSNIFF MAKES‘No, no. Don’t!’ said Tom. ‘What nonsense! We can getLOVE, MR JONAS MAKES WRATH, MRShome very well alone. I couldn’t think of taking you out.’GAMP MAKES TEA, AND MR CHUFFEYBut John said he would rather.MAKES BUSINESS‘Are you sure you would rather?’ said Tom. ‘I am afraid youonly say so out of politeness.’ON THE NEXT DAY’S official duties coming to a close, TomJohn being quite sure, gave his arm to Ruth, and led herhurried home without losing any time by the way; and after690

Charles Dickensdinner and a short rest sallied out again, accompanied by Ruth, well how to be affectionate and full of solicitude without appearingto be; your gentleness of feeling is like your touch soto pay his projected visit to Todgers’s. Tom took Ruth withhim, not only because it was a great pleasure to him to have light and easy, that the one enables you to deal with wounds ofher for his companion whenever he could, but because he the mind as tenderly as the other enables you to deal with woundswished her to cherish and comfort poor Merry; which she, of the body. You are such—’for her own part (having heard the wretched history of that ‘My goodness, Tom!’ his sister interposed. ‘You ought toyoung wife from Tom), was all eagerness to do.fall in love immediately.’‘She was so glad to see me,’ said Tom, ‘that I am sure she Tom put this observation off good humouredly, but somewhatgravely too; and they were soon very chatty again onwill be glad to see you. Your sympathy is certain to be muchmore delicate and acceptable than mine.’some other subject.‘I am very far from being certain of that, Tom,’ she replied; As they were passing through a street in the City, not very‘and indeed you do yourself an injustice. Indeed you do. But far from Mrs Todgers’s place of residence, Ruth checked TomI hope she may like me, Tom.’before the window of a large Upholstery and Furniture Warehouse,to call his attention to something very magnificent‘Oh, she is sure to do that!’ cried Tom, confidently.‘What a number of friends I should have, if everybody was and ingenious, displayed there to the best advantage, for theof your way of thinking. Shouldn’t I, Tom, dear?’ said his admiration and temptation of the public. Tom had hazardedlittle sister pinching him upon the cheek.some most erroneous and extravagantly wrong guess in relationto the price of this article, and had joined his sister inTom laughed, and said that with reference to this particularcase he had no doubt at all of finding a disciple in Merry. ‘For laughing heartily at his mistake, when he pressed her arm inyou women,’ said Tom, ‘you women, my dear, are so kind, his, and pointed to two persons at a little distance, who wereand in your kindness have such nice perception; you know so looking in at the same window with a deep interest in the691

Martin Chuzzlewitchests of drawers and tables.as seemed to blot it out.‘Hush!’ Tom whispered. ‘Miss Pecksniff, and the young ‘Augustus, my love,’ said Miss Pecksniff, ‘ask the price ofgentleman to whom she is going to be married.’the eight rosewood chairs, and the loo table.’‘Why does he look as if he was going to be buried, Tom?’ ‘Perhaps they are ordered already,’ said Augustus. ‘Perhapsinquired his little sister.they are Another’s.’‘Why, he is naturally a dismal young gentleman, I believe,’ ‘They can make more like them, if they are,’ rejoined Misssaid Tom ‘but he is very civil and inoffensive.’Pecksniff.‘I suppose they are furnishing their house,’ whispered Ruth. ‘No, no, they can’t,’ said Moddle. ‘It’s impossible!’‘Yes, I suppose they are,’ replied Tom. ‘We had better avoid He appeared, for the moment, to be quite overwhelmedspeaking to them.’and stupefied by the prospect of his approaching happiness;They could not very well avoid looking at them, however,especially as some obstruction on the pavement, at a saying in a tone of despairbut recovering, entered the shop. He returned immediately,little distance, happened to detain them where they were ‘Twenty-four pound ten!’for a few moments. Miss Pecksniff had quite the air of Miss Pecksniff, turning to receive this announcement, becameconscious of the observation of Tom Pinch and his sister.having taken the unhappy Moddle captive, and broughthim up to the contemplation of the furniture like a lamb ‘Oh, really!’ cried Miss Pecksniff, glancing about her, as ifto the altar. He offered no resistance, but was perfectly for some convenient means of sinking into the earth. ‘Uponresigned and quiet. The melancholy depicted in the turn my word, I—there never was such a—to think that one shouldof his languishing head, and in his dejected attitude, was be so very—Mr Augustus Moddle, Miss Pinch!’extreme; and though there was a full-sized four-post bedsteadin the window, such a tear stood trembling in his eye umphant introduction; exceedingly gracious. She wasMiss Pecksniff was quite gracious to Miss Pinch in this tri-more692

Charles Dickensthan gracious; she was kind and cordial. Whether the recollectionof the old service Tom had rendered her in knocking Here she whispered him again.‘I am speaking of the—’Mr Jonas on the head had wrought this change in her opinions;or whether her separation from her parent had recon-thirty-two, twelve, six,’ said Moddle, with a sigh. ‘And very‘If it’s the same patterned chintz as that in the window;ciled her to all human-kind, or to all that interesting portion dear.’of human-kind which was not friendly to him; or whether Miss Pecksniff stopped him from giving any further explanationby laying her hand upon his lips, and betraying a softthe delight of having some new female acquaintance to whomto communicate her interesting prospects was paramount to embarrassment. She then asked Tom Pinch which way heevery other consideration; cordial and kind Miss Pecksniff was going.was. And twice Miss Pecksniff kissed Miss Pinch upon the ‘I was going to see if I could find your sister,’ answeredcheek.Tom, ‘to whom I wished to say a few words. We were going‘Augustus—Mr Pinch, you know. My dear girl!’ said Miss to Mrs Todgers’s, where I had the pleasure of seeing her before.’Pecksniff, aside. ‘I never was so ashamed in my life.’Ruth begged her not to think of it.‘It’s of no use your going on, then,’ said Cherry, ‘for we‘I mind your brother less than anybody else,’ simpered Miss have not long left there; and I know she is not at home. ButPecksniff. ‘But the indelicacy of meeting any gentleman undersuch circumstances! Augustus, my child, did you—’ Mr Moddle, I mean—and myself, are on our way to tea there,I’ll take you to my sister’s house, if you please. Augustus—Here Miss Pecksniff whispered in his ear. The suffering now. You needn’t think of him,’ she added, nodding her headModdle repeated:as she observed some hesitation on Tom’s part. ‘He is not at‘Twenty-four pound ten!’home.’‘Oh, you silly man! I don’t mean them,’ said Miss Pecksniff. ‘Are you sure?’ asked Tom.693

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Oh, I am quite sure of that. I don’t want any more revenge,’said Miss Pecksniff, expressively. ‘But, really, I must ‘No, really?’ said Miss Pecksniff. ‘Well! that is quite remark-as looking ‘rather low.’beg you two gentlemen to walk on, and allow me to follow able! Everybody says the same. Mrs Todgers says the same;with Miss Pinch. My dear, I never was so taken by surprise!’ and Augustus informs me that it is quite a joke among theIn furtherance of this bashful arrangement, Moddle gave gentlemen in the house. Indeed, but for the positive commandsI have laid upon him, I believe it would have been thehis arm to Tom; and Miss Pecksniff linked her own in Ruth’s.‘Of course, my love,’ said Miss Pecksniff, ‘it would be uselessfor me to disguise, after what you have seen, that I am What do you think is the cause of his appearance of depres-occasion of loaded fire-arms being resorted to more than once.about to be united to the gentleman who is walking with sion?’your brother. It would be in vain to conceal it. What do you Ruth thought of several things; such as his digestion, histhink of him? Pray, let me have your candid opinion.’ tailor, his mother, and the like. But hesitating to give utteranceto any one of them, she refrained from expressing anRuth intimated that, as far as she could judge, he was a veryeligible swain.opinion.‘I am curious to know,’ said Miss Pecksniff, with loquaciousfrankness, ‘whether you have observed, or fancied, in known, but I don’t mind mentioning it to you, having known‘My dear,’ said Miss Pecksniff; ‘I shouldn’t wish it to bethis very short space of time, that he is of a rather melancholy your brother for so many years—I refused Augustus threeturn?’times. He is of a most amiable and sensitive nature, always‘So very short a time,’ Ruth pleaded.ready to shed tears if you look at him, which is extremely‘No, no; but don’t let that interfere with your answer,’ returnedMiss Pecksniff. ‘I am curious to hear what you say.’ elty. For it was cruel,’ said Miss Pecksniff, with a self-convic-charming; and he has never recovered the effect of that cru-Ruth acknowledged that he had impressed her at first sight tion candour that might have adorned the diadem of her own694

Charles Dickenspapa. ‘There is no doubt of it. I look back upon my conduct possible to tell you! Looking back upon my giddy self, mynow with blushes. I always liked him. I felt that he was not to dear, now that I am sobered down and made thoughtful, byme what the crowd of young men who had made proposals treading on the very brink of matrimony; and contemplatinghad been, but something very different. Then what right had myself as I was when I was like what you are now; I shudder.I to refuse him three times?’I shudder. What is the consequence of my past conduct? UntilAugustus leads me to the altar he is not sure of me. I have‘It was a severe trial of his fidelity, no doubt,’ said Ruth.‘My dear,’ returned Miss Pecksniff. ‘It was wrong. But such blighted and withered the affections of his heart to that extentthat he is not sure of me. I see that preying on his mindis the caprice and thoughtlessness of our sex! Let me be awarning to you. Don’t try the feelings of any one who makes and feeding on his vitals. What are the reproaches of my conscience,when I see this in the man I love!’you an offer, as I have tried the feelings of Augustus; but ifyou ever feel towards a person as I really felt towards him, at Ruth endeavoured to express some sense of her unboundedthe very time when I was driving him to distraction, let that and flattering confidence; and presumed that she was goingfeeling find expression, if that person throws himself at your to be married soon.feet, as Augustus Moddle did at mine. Think,’ said Miss ‘Very soon indeed,’ returned Miss Pecksniff. ‘As soon as ourPecksniff, ‘what my feelings would have been, if I had goaded house is ready. We are furnishing now as fast as we can.’him to suicide, and it had got into the papers!’In the same vein of confidence Miss Pecksniff ran throughRuth observed that she would have been full of remorse, a general inventory of the articles that were already boughtno doubt.with the articles that remained to be purchased; what garmentsshe intended to be married in, and where the ceremony‘Remorse!’ cried Miss Pecksniff, in a sort of snug and comfortablepenitence. ‘What my remorse is at this moment, even was to be performed; and gave Miss Pinch, in short (as sheafter making reparation by accepting him, it would be im-told her), early and exclusive information on all points of695

Martin Chuzzlewitinterest connected with the event.upon Augustus’s arm, lest he should fly into the road, andWhile this was going forward in the rear, Tom and Mr making another and a more successful attempt, should get upModdle walked on, arm in arm, in the front, in a state of a private little Juggernaut before the eyes of his betrothed.profound silence, which Tom at last broke; after thinking for Tom was so afraid of his committing this rash act, that hea long time what he could say that should refer to an indifferenttopic, in respect of which he might rely, with some degree arrived in safety at Mrs Jonas Chuzzlewit’s house.had scarcely ever experienced such mental relief as when theyof certainty, on Mr Moddle’s bosom being unruffled. ‘Walk up, pray, Mr Pinch,’ said Miss Pecksniff. For Tom‘I wonder,’ said Tom, ‘that in these crowded streets the footpassengersare not oftener run over.’‘I am doubtful whether I should be welcome,’ replied Tom,halted, irresolutely, at the door.Mr Moddle, with a dark look, replied:‘or, I ought rather to say, I have no doubt about it. I will send‘The drivers won’t do it.’up a message, I think.’‘Do you mean?’ Tom began—‘But what nonsense that is!’ returned Miss Pecksniff, speaking‘That there are some men,’ interrupted Moddle, with a apart to Tom. ‘He is not at home, I am certain. I know he ishollow laugh, ‘who can’t get run over. They live a charmed not; and Merry hasn’t the least idea that you ever—’life. Coal waggons recoil from them, and even cabs refuse to ‘No,’ interrupted Tom. ‘Nor would I have her know it, onrun them down. Ah!’ said Augustus, marking Tom’s astonishment.‘There are such men. One of ‘em is a friend of mine.’ ‘Ah, but then you are so modest, you see,’ returned Missany account. I am not so proud of that scuffle, I assure you.’‘Upon my word and honour,’ thought Tom, ‘this young Pecksniff, with a smile. ‘But pray walk up. If you don’t wishgentleman is in a state of mind which is very serious indeed!’ her to know it, and do wish to speak to her, pray walk up.Abandoning all idea of conversation, he did not venture to Pray walk up, Miss Pinch. Don’t stand here.’say another word, but he was careful to keep a tight hold Tom still hesitated for he felt that he was in an awkward696

Charles Dickensposition. But Cherry passing him at this juncture, and leadinghis sister upstairs, and the house-door being at the same concealed this mark of her favour from the vulgar gaze byof ecstasy when Miss Pecksniff placed her lily hand in his, andtime shut behind them, he followed without quite knowing covering it with a corner of her shawl. Indeed, he was infinitelymore rueful then than he had been before; and, sittingwhether it was well or ill-judged so to do.‘Merry, my darling!’ said the fair Miss Pecksniff, opening uncomfortably upright in his chair, surveyed the companythe door of the usual sitting-room. ‘Here are Mr Pinch and with watery eyes, which seemed to say, without the aid ofhis sister come to see you! I thought we should find you here, language, ‘Oh, good gracious! look here! Won’t some kindMrs Todgers! How do you do, Mrs Gamp? And how do you Christian help me!’do, Mr Chuffey, though it’s of no use asking you the question,I am well aware.’nished forth a score of young lovers; and they were chieflyBut the ecstasies of Mrs Gamp were sufficient to have fur-Honouring each of these parties, as she severally addressed awakened by the sight of Tom Pinch and his sister. Mrs Gampthem, with an acid smile, Miss Charity presented ‘Mr Moddle.’ was a lady of that happy temperament which can be ecstatic‘I believe you have seen him before,’ she pleasantly observed. without any other stimulating cause than a general desire to‘Augustus, my sweet child, bring me a chair.’establish a large and profitable connection. She added daily soThe sweet child did as he was told; and was then about to many strings to her bow, that she made a perfect harp of it;retire into a corner to mourn in secret, when Miss Charity, and upon that instrument she now began to perform an extemporaneousconcerto.calling him in an audible whisper a ‘little pet,’ gave him leaveto come and sit beside her. It is to be hoped, for the general ‘Why, goodness me!’ she said, ‘Mrs Chuzzlewit! To thinkcheerfulness of mankind, that such a doleful little pet was as I should see beneath this blessed ‘ouse, which well I knownever seen as Mr Moddle looked when he complied. So despondentwas his temper, that he showed no outward thrill is not a many like, worse luck, and wishin’ it were notit, Miss Pecksniff, my sweet young lady, to be a ‘ouse as thereso,697

Martin Chuzzlewitwhich then this tearful walley would be changed into a I’m sure. I knows a lady, which her name, I’ll not deceiveflowerin’ guardian, Mr Chuffey; to think as I should see beneaththis indiwidgle roof, identically comin’, Mr Pinch (I six foot three, and marked with a mad bull in Wellingtonyou, Mrs Chuzzlewit, is Harris, her husband’s brother bein’take the liberty, though almost unbeknown), and do assure boots upon his left arm, on account of his precious motheryou of it, sir, the smilinest and sweetest face as ever, Mrs havin’ been worrited by one into a shoemaker’s shop, whenChuzzlewit, I see exceptin’ yourn, my dear good lady, and in a sitiwation which blessed is the man as has his quiver fullyour good lady’s too, sir, Mr Moddle, if I may make so bold of sech, as many times I’ve said to Gamp when words hasas speak so plain of what is plain enough to them as needn’t roge betwixt us on account of the expense—and often have Ilook through millstones, Mrs Todgers, to find out wot is said to Mrs Harris, “Oh, Mrs Harris, ma’am! your countenanceis quite a angel’s!” Which, but for Pimples, it wouldwrote upon the wall behind. Which no offence is meant, ladiesand gentlemen; none bein’ took, I hope. To think as I be. “No, Sairey Gamp,” says she, “you best of hard-workingshould see that smilinest and sweetest face which me and anotherfriend of mine, took notice of among the packages down which underpaid you are, quite diff’rent. Harris had it doneand industrious creeturs as ever was underpaid at any price,London Bridge, in this promiscous place, is a surprige indeed!’next his heart “till the colour run, when the money was de-afore marriage at ten and six,” she says, “and wore it faithfulHaving contrived, in this happy manner, to invest every clined to be give back, and no arrangement could be come to.member of her audience with an individual share and immediatepersonal interest in her address, Mrs Gamp dropped have thought.” If Mrs Harris’s husband was here now,’ saidBut he never said it was a angel’s, Sairey, wotever he mightseveral curtseys to Ruth, and smilingly shaking her head a Mrs Gamp, looking round, and chuckling as she dropped agreat many times, pursued the thread of her discourse: general curtsey, ‘he’d speak out plain, he would, and his dear‘Now, ain’t we rich in beauty this here joyful arternoon, wife would be the last to blame him! For if ever a woman698

Charles Dickenslived as know’d not wot it was to form a wish to pizon them ing look, and Tom knew what it said. ‘You see how miseryas had good looks, and had no reagion give her by the best of has changed me. I can feel for a dependant now, and set somehusbands, Mrs Harris is that ev’nly dispogician!’value on his attachment.’With these words the worthy woman, who appeared to ‘Aye, aye!’ cried Chuffey in a soothing tone. ‘Aye, aye, aye!have dropped in to take tea as a delicate little attention, rather Never mind him. It’s hard to hear, but never mind him. He’llthan to have any engagement on the premises in an official die one day. There are three hundred and sixty-five days in thecapacity, crossed to Mr Chuffey, who was seated in the same year—three hundred and sixty-six in leap year—and he maycorner as of old, and shook him by the shoulder.die on any one of ‘em.’‘Rouge yourself, and look up! Come!’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘You’re a wearing old soul, and that’s the sacred truth,’ said‘Here’s company, Mr Chuffey.’Mrs Gamp, contemplating him from a little distance with‘I am sorry for it,’ cried the old man, looking humbly round anything but favour, as he continued to mutter to himself.the room. ‘I know I’m in the way. I ask pardon, but I’ve ‘It’s a pity that you don’t know wot you say, for you’d tirenowhere else to go to. Where is she?’your own patience out if you did, and fret yourself into aMerry went to him.happy releage for all as knows you.’‘Ah!’ said the old man, patting her on the check. ‘Here she ‘His son,’ murmured the old man, lifting up his hand. ‘His son!’is. Here she is! She’s never hard on poor old Chuffey. Poor ‘Well, I’m sure!’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘you’re a-settlin’ of it, Mrold Chuff!’Chuffey. To your satigefaction, sir, I hope. But I wouldn’t layAs she took her seat upon a low chair by the old man’s side, a new pincushion on it myself, sir, though you ARE so welland put herself within the reach of his hand, she looked up informed. Drat the old creetur, he’s a-layin’ down the lawonce at Tom. It was a sad look that she cast upon him, though tolerable confident, too! A deal he knows of sons! or dartersthere was a faint smile trembling on her face. It was a speak-either! Suppose you was to favour us with some remarks on699

Martin Chuzzlewittwins, sir, would you be so good!’‘and wot a happiness to do it! My good young ‘ooman’—toThe bitter and indignant sarcasm which Mrs Gamp conveyedinto these taunts was altogether lost on the unconscious laid egg or two, not biled too hard. Likeways, a few rounds o’the servant-girl—‘p’raps somebody would like to try a new-Chuffey, who appeared to be as little cognizant of their deliveryas of his having given Mrs Gamp offence. But that high-tender teeth, and not too many of ‘em; which Gamp himself,buttered toast, first cuttin’ off the crust, in consequence ofminded woman being sensitively alive to any invasion of her Mrs Chuzzlewit, at one blow, being in liquor, struck out four,professional province, and imagining that Mr Chuffey had two single, and two double, as was took by Mrs Harris for agiven utterance to some prediction on the subject of sons, keepsake, and is carried in her pocket at this present hour,which ought to have emanated in the first instance from herselfas the only lawful authority, or which should at least have a blessed infant’s shoe, in tin, with a little heel to put thealong with two cramp-bones, a bit o’ ginger, and a grater likebeen on no account proclaimed without her sanction and nutmeg in; as many times I’ve seen and said, and used forconcurrence, was not so easily appeased. She continued to candle when required, within the month.’sidle at Mr Chuffey with looks of sharp hostility, and to defy As the privileges of the side-table—besides including thehim with many other ironical remarks, uttered in that low small prerogatives of sitting next the toast, and taking twokey which commonly denotes suppressed indignation; until cups of tea to other people’s one, and always taking them at athe entrance of the teaboard, and a request from Mrs Jonas crisis, that is to say, before putting fresh water into the teapot,and after it had been standing for some time—also com-that she would make tea at a side-table for the party that hadunexpectedly assembled, restored her to herself. She smiled prehended a full view of the company, and an opportunity ofagain, and entered on her ministration with her own particularurbanity.the functions entrusted to her with extreme good-humouraddressing them as from a rostrum, Mrs Gamp discharged‘And quite a family it is to make tea for,’ said Mrs Gamp; and affability. Sometimes resting her saucer on the palm of700

Charles Dickensher outspread hand, and supporting her elbow on the table, the heart to make any movement towards their departure,she stopped between her sips of tea to favour the circle with a although he had long since given utterance to all he came tosmile, a wink, a roll of the head, or some other mark of notice;and at those periods her countenance was lighted up with The old clerk, subsiding into his usual state, remained pro-say.a degree of intelligence and vivacity, which it was almost impossibleto separate from the benignant influence of distilled occupied, intent upon the dreams, whatever they might be,foundly silent, while the rest of the little assembly were thuswaters.which hardly seemed to stir the surface of his sluggishBut for Mrs Gamp, it would have been a curiously silent thoughts. The bent of these dull fancies combining probablyparty. Miss Pecksniff only spoke to her Augustus, and to him with the silent feasting that was going on about him, andin whispers. Augustus spoke to nobody, but sighed for every some struggling recollection of the last approach to revelry heone, and occasionally gave himself such a sounding slap upon had witnessed, suggested a strange question to his mind. Hethe forehead as would make Mrs Todgers, who was rather looked round upon a sudden, and said:nervous, start in her chair with an involuntary exclamation. ‘Who’s lying dead upstairs?’Mrs Todgers was occupied in knitting, and seldom spoke. ‘No one,’ said Merry, turning to him. ‘What is the matter?Poor Merry held the hand of cheerful little Ruth between her We are all here.’own, and listening with evident pleasure to all she said, but ‘All here!’ cried the old man. ‘All here! Where is he then—rarely speaking herself, sometimes smiled, and sometimes my old master, Mr Chuzzlewit, who had the only son? Wherekissed her on the cheek, and sometimes turned aside to hide is he?’the tears that trembled in her eyes. Tom felt this change in her ‘Hush! Hush!’ said Merry, speaking kindly to him. ‘Thatso much, and was so glad to see how tenderly Ruth dealt with happened long ago. Don’t you recollect?’her, and how she knew and answered to it, that he had not ‘Recollect!’ rejoined the old man, with a cry of grief. ‘As if I701

Martin Chuzzlewitcould forget! As if I ever could forget!’had not heard her; and, rising from his chair, walked acrossHe put his hand up to his face for a moment; and then the room and upstairs, whispering as he went, ‘Foul play!’repeated turning round exactly as before:They heard his footsteps overhead, going up into that corner‘Who’s lying dead upstairs?’of the room in which the bed stood (it was there old Anthonyhad died); and then they heard him coming down again‘No one!’ said Merry.At first he gazed angrily upon her, as upon a stranger who immediately. His fancy was not so strong or wild that it picturedto him anything in the deserted bedchamber which wasendeavoured to deceive him; but peering into her face, andseeing that it was indeed she, he shook his head in sorrowful not there; for he returned much calmer, and appeared to havecompassion.satisfied himself.‘You think not. But they don’t tell you. No, no, poor thing! ‘They don’t tell you,’ he said to Merry in his quaveringThey don’t tell you. Who are these, and why are they merrymakinghere, if there is no one dead? Foul play! Go see who it ‘They don’t tell me either; but I’ll watch, I’ll watch. Theyvoice, as he sat down again, and patted her upon the head.is!’shall not hurt you; don’t be frightened. When you have sat upShe made a sign to them not to speak to him, which indeed watching, I have sat up watching too. Aye, aye, I have!’ hethey had little inclination to do; and remained silent herself. piped out, clenching his weak, shrivelled hand. ‘Many a nightSo did he for a short time; but then he repeated the same I have been ready!’question with an eagerness that had a peculiar terror in it. He said this with such trembling gaps and pauses in his‘There’s some one dead,’ he said, ‘or dying; and I want to want of breath, and said it in his jealous secrecy so closely inknows who it is. Go see, go see! Where’s Jonas?’her ear, that little or nothing of it was understood by the‘In the country,’ she replied.visitors. But they had heard and seen enough of the old manThe old man gazed at her as if he doubted what she said, or to be disquieted, and to have left their seats and gathered about702

Charles Dickenshim; thereby affording Mrs Gamp, whose professional coolnesswas not so easily disturbed, an eligible opportunity for No doubt with the view of carrying out the precepts sheown way too much by half. A worritin’ wexagious creetur!’concentrating the whole resources of her powerful mind and enforced, and ‘bothering the old wictim’ in practice as well asappetite upon the toast and butter, tea and eggs. She had in theory, Mrs Gamp took him by the collar of his coat, andbrought them to bear upon those viands with such vigour gave him some dozen or two of hearty shakes backward andthat her face was in the highest state of inflammation, when forward in his chair; that exercise being considered by theshe now (there being nothing left to eat or drink) saw fit to disciples of the Prig school of nursing (who are very numerousamong professional ladies) as exceedingly conducive tointerpose.‘Why, highty tighty, sir!’ cried Mrs Gamp, ‘is these your repose, and highly beneficial to the performance of the nervousfunctions. Its effect in this instance was to render themanners? You want a pitcher of cold water throw’d over youto bring you round; that’s my belief, and if you was under patient so giddy and addle-headed, that he could say nothingBetsey Prig you’d have it, too, I do assure you, Mr Chuffey. more; which Mrs Gamp regarded as the triumph of her art.Spanish Flies is the only thing to draw this nonsense out of ‘There!’ she said, loosening the old man’s cravat, in consequenceof his being rather black in the face, after this scien-you; and if anybody wanted to do you a kindness, they’d clapa blister of ‘em on your head, and put a mustard poultige on tific treatment. ‘Now, I hope, you’re easy in your mind. Ifyour back. ‘Who’s dead, indeed! It wouldn’t be no grievous you should turn at all faint we can soon rewive you, sir, Iloss if some one was, I think!’promige you. Bite a person’s thumbs, or turn their fingers the‘He’s quiet now, Mrs Gamp,’ said Merry. ‘Don’t disturb wrong way,’ said Mrs Gamp, smiling with the consciousnesshim.’of at once imparting pleasure and instruction to her auditors,‘Oh, bother the old wictim, Mrs Chuzzlewit,’ replied that ‘and they comes to, wonderful, Lord bless you!’zealous lady, ‘I ain’t no patience with him. You give him his As this excellent woman had been formerly entrusted with703

Martin Chuzzlewitthe care of Mr Chuffey on a previous occasion, neither Mrs find my pocket-handkerchief, and give it to me.’Jonas nor anybody else had the resolution to interfere directly Augustus obeyed, and took Mrs Todgers aside to pour hiswith her mode of treatment; though all present (Tom Pinch griefs into her friendly bosom.and his sister especially) appeared to be disposed to differ from ‘I am sure, Mr Pinch,’ said Charity, looking after her betrothedand glancing at her sister, ‘that I ought to be veryher views. For such is the rash boldness of the uninitiated, thatthey will frequently set up some monstrous abstract principle, grateful for the blessings I enjoy, and those which are yet insuch as humanity, or tenderness, or the like idle folly, in obstinatedefiance of all precedent and usage; and will even venture est and embarrased—’who, I don’t mind saying to you, is allstore for me. When I contrast Augustus’—here she was mod-to maintain the same against the persons who have made the softness, mildness, and devotion, with the detestable man whoprecedents and established the usage, and who must therefore is my sister’s husband; and when I think, Mr Pinch, that inbe the best and most impartial judges of the subject. the dispensations of this world, our cases might have been‘Ah, Mr Pinch!’ said Miss Pecksniff. ‘It all comes of this reversed; I have much to be thankful for, indeed, and muchunfortunate marriage. If my sister had not been so precipitate,and had not united herself to a Wretch, there would Contented she might have been, but humble she assuredlyto make me humble and contented.’have been no Mr Chuffey in the house.’was not. Her face and manner experienced something so widely‘Hush!’ cried Tom. ‘She’ll hear you.’different from humility, that Tom could not help understandingand despising the base motives that were working in her‘I should be very sorry if she did hear me, Mr Pinch,’ saidCherry, raising her voice a little; ‘for it is not in my nature to breast. He turned away, and said to Ruth, that it was time foradd to the uneasiness of any person; far less of my own sister. them to go.I know what a sister’s duties are, Mr Pinch, and I hope I ‘I will write to your husband,’ said Tom to Merry, ‘andalways showed it in my practice. Augustus, my dear child, explain to him, as I would have done if I had met him here,704

Charles Dickensthat if he has sustained any inconvenience through my means, tea here, sir, in your absence; but if you will have the goodnessto send us a note of the expense, receipted, we shall beit is not my fault; a postman not being more innocent of thenews he brings, than I was when I handed him that letter.’ happy to pay it. Augustus, my love, we will go, if you please.‘I thank you!’ said Merry. ‘It may do some good.’ Mrs Todgers, unless you wish to remain here, we shall beShe parted tenderly from Ruth, who with her brother was happy to take you with us. It would be a pity, indeed, to spoilin the act of leaving the room, when a key was heard in the the bliss which this gentleman always brings with him, especiallyinto his own home.’lock of the door below, and immediately afterwards a quickfootstep in the passage. Tom stopped, and looked at Merry. ‘Charity! Charity!’ remonstrated her sister, in such a heartfelttone that she might have been imploring her to show theIt was Jonas, she said timidly.‘I had better not meet him on the stairs, perhaps,’ said Tom, cardinal virtue whose name she bore.drawing his sister’s arm through his, and coming back a step ‘Merry, my dear, I am much obliged to you for your advice,’or two. ‘I’ll wait for him here, a moment.’returned Miss Pecksniff, with a stately scorn—by the way, sheHe had scarcely said it when the door opened, and Jonas had not been offered any—‘but I am not his slave—’entered. His wife came forward to receive him; but he put ‘No, nor wouldn’t have been if you could,’ interruptedher aside with his hand, and said in a surly tone:Jonas. ‘We know all about it.’‘I didn’t know you’d got a party.’‘What did you say, sir?’ cried Miss Pecksniff, sharply.As he looked, at the same time, either by accident or design,towards Miss Pecksniff; and as Miss Pecksniff was only chair. ‘I am not a-going to say it again. If you like to stay, you‘Didn’t you hear?’ retorted Jonas, lounging down upon atoo delighted to quarrel with him, she instantly resented it. may stay. If you like to go, you may go. But if you stay,‘Oh dear!’ she said, rising. ‘Pray don’t let us intrude upon please to be civil.’your domestic happiness! That would be a pity. We have taken ‘Beast!’ cried Miss Pecksniff, sweeping past him. ‘Augustus!705

Martin ChuzzlewitHe is beneath your notice!’ Augustus had been making some ness, an opportunity of being heard.faint and sickly demonstration of shaking his fist. ‘Come away, ‘You have no cause to be violent, sir,’ said Tom. ‘Thoughchild,’ screamed Miss Pecksniff, ‘I command you!’what I wish to say relates to your own affairs, I know nothingThe scream was elicited from her by Augustus manifesting of them, and desire to know nothing of them.’an intention to return and grapple with him. But Miss Jonas was too enraged to speak. He held the door open;Pecksniff giving the fiery youth a pull, and Mrs Todgers givinghim a push they all three tumbled out of the room to-‘As you cannot suppose,’ said Tom, ‘that I am here with anyand stamping his foot upon the ground, motioned Tom away.gether, to the music of Miss Pecksniff’s shrill remonstrances. view of conciliating you or pleasing myself, I am quite indifferentto your reception of me, or your dismissal of me. HearAll this time Jonas had seen nothing of Tom and his sister;for they were almost behind the door when he opened it, and what I have to say, if you are not a madman! I gave you ahe had sat down with his back towards them, and had purposelykept his eyes upon the opposite side of the street dur-‘You Thief, you did!’ retorted Jonas. ‘I’ll pay you for theletter the other day, when you were about to go abroad.’ing his altercation with Miss Pecksniff, in order that his seeming carriage of it one day, and settle an old score besides. I will!’carelessness might increase the exasperation of that wronged ‘Tut, tut,’ said Tom, ‘you needn’t waste words or threats. Iyoung damsel. His wife now faltered out that Tom had been wish you to understand—plainly because I would rather keepwaiting to see him; and Tom advanced.clear of you and everything that concerns you: not because IThe instant he presented himself, Jonas got up from his have the least apprehension of your doing me any injury: whichchair, and swearing a great oath, caught it in his grasp, as if he would be weak indeed—that I am no party to the contents ofwould have felled Tom to the ground with it. As he most that letter. That I know nothing of it. That I was not evenunquestionably would have done, but that his very passion aware that it was to be delivered to you; and that I had itand surprise made him irresolute, and gave Tom, in his calm-from—’706

Charles Dickens‘By the Lord!’ cried Jonas, fiercely catching up the chair, means, what unsuspected spy there was upon him; he would‘I’ll knock your brains out, if you speak another word.’ have been saved from the commission of a Guilty Deed, thenTom, nevertheless, persisting in his intention, and opening drawing on towards its black accomplishment. But the fatalitywas of his own working; the pit was of his own digging;his lips to speak again, Jonas set upon him like a savage; andin the quickness and ferocity of his attack would have surely the gloom that gathered round him was the shadow of hisdone him some grievous injury, defenceless as he was, and own life.embarrassed by having his frightened sister clinging to his arm, His wife had closed the door, and thrown herself before it,if Merry had not run between them, crying to Tom for the on the ground, upon her knees. She held up her hands to himlove of Heaven to leave the house. The agony of this poor now, and besought him not to be harsh with her, for she hadcreature, the terror of his sister, the impossibility of making interposed in fear of bloodshed.himself audible, and the equal impossibility of bearing up ‘So, so!’ said Jonas, looking down upon her, as he fetchedagainst Mrs Gamp, who threw herself upon him like a featherbed,and forced him backwards down the stairs by the mere You plot and tamper with this sort of people, do you?’his breath. ‘These are your friends, are they, when I am away?oppression of her dead weight, prevailed. Tom shook the dust ‘No, indeed! I have no knowledge of these secrets, and noof that house off his feet, without having mentioned clue to their meaning. I have never seen him since I left homeNadgett’s name.but once—but twice—before to-day.’If the name could have passed his lips; if Jonas, in the insolenceof his vile nature, had never roused him to do that old but twice, eh? Which do you mean? Twice and once, perhaps.‘Oh!’ sneered Jonas, catching at this correction. ‘But once,act of manliness, for which (and not for his last offence) he Three times! How many more, you lying jade?’hated him with such malignity; if Jonas could have learned, As he made an angry motion with his hand, she shrunkas then he could and would have learned, through Tom’s down hastily. A suggestive action! Full of a cruel truth!707

Martin Chuzzlewit‘How many more times?’ he repeated.‘I have been travelling day and night, and am tired. I have‘No more. The other morning, and to-day, and once besides.’in the little off-room below, and have the truckle-bed made.lost some money, and that don’t improve me. Put my supperHe was about to retort upon her, when the clock struck. I shall sleep there to-night, and maybe to-morrow night; andHe started stopped, and listened; appearing to revert to some if I can sleep all day to-morrow, so much the better, for I’veengagement, or to some other subject, a secret within his own got trouble to sleep off, if I can. Keep the house quiet, andbreast, recalled to him by this record of the progress of the don’t call me. Mind! Don’t call me. Don’t let anybody callhours.me. Let me lie there.’‘Don’t lie there! Get up!’She said it should be done. Was that all?Having helped her to rise, or rather hauled her up by the ‘All what? You must be prying and questioning!’ he angrilyarm, he went on to say:retorted. ‘What more do you want to know?’‘Listen to me, young lady; and don’t whine when you have ‘I want to know nothing, Jonas, but what you tell me. Allno occasion, or I may make some for you. If I find him in my hope of confidence between us has long deserted me!’house again, or find that you have seen him in anybody else’s ‘Ecod, I should hope so!’ he muttered.house, you’ll repent it. If you are not deaf and dumb to everythingthat concerns me, unless you have my leave to hear and and will try to please you. I make no merit of that, for I have‘But if you will tell me what you wish, I will be obedientspeak, you’ll repent it. If you don’t obey exactly what I order, no friend in my father or my sister, but am quite alone. I amyou’ll repent it. Now, attend. What’s the time?’very humble and submissive. You told me you would break‘It struck eight a minute ago.’my spirit, and you have done so. Do not break my heart too!’He looked towards her intently; and said, with a laboured She ventured, as she said these words, to lay her hand upondistinctness, as if he had got the words off by heart: his shoulder. He suffered it to rest there, in his exultation;708

Charles Dickensand the whole mean, abject, sordid, pitiful soul of the man, sey. ‘What am I thinking of! You wasn’t here, sir, when he waslooked at her, for the moment, through his wicked eyes. took so strange. I never see a poor dear creetur took so strangeFor the moment only; for, with the same hurried return to in all my life, except a patient much about the same age, as Isomething within himself, he bade her, in a surly tone, show once nussed, which his calling was the custom-’us, and hisher obedience by executing his commands without delay. name was Mrs Harris’s own father, as pleasant a singer, MrWhen she had withdrawn he paced up and down the room Chuzzlewit, as ever you heerd, with a voice like a Jew’s-harpseveral times; but always with his right hand clenched, as if it in the bass notes, that it took six men to hold at sech times,held something; which it did not, being empty. When he was foaming frightful.’tired of this, he threw himself into a chair, and thoughtfully ‘Chuffey, eh?’ said Jonas carelessly, seeing that she went upturned up the sleeve of his right arm, as if he were rather to the old, clerk, and looked at him. ‘Ha!’musing about its strength than examining it; but, even then, ‘The creetur’s head’s so hot,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘that you mighthe kept the hand clenched.heat a flat-iron at it. And no wonder I am sure, considerin’He was brooding in this chair, with his eyes cast down upon the things he said!’the ground, when Mrs Gamp came in to tell him that the ‘Said!’ cried Jonas. ‘What did he say?’little room was ready. Not being quite sure of her reception Mrs Gamp laid her hand upon her heart, to put some checkafter interfering in the quarrel, Mrs Gamp, as a means of interestingand propitiating her patron, affected a deep solici-faint voice:upon its palpitations, and turning up her eyes replied in atude in Mr Chuffey.‘The awfulest things, Mr Chuzzlewit, as ever I heerd! Which‘How is he now, sir?’ she said.Mrs Harris’s father never spoke a word when took so, some‘Who?’ cried Jonas, raising his head, and staring at her. does and some don’t, except sayin’ when he come round,‘To be sure!’ returned the matron with a smile and a curt-“Where is Sairey Gamp?” But raly, sir, when Mr Chuffey comes709

Martin Chuzzlewitto ask who’s lyin’ dead upstairs, and—’‘Ecod you’re right,’ said Jonas, looking doubtfully at the‘Who’s lying dead upstairs!’ repeated Jonas, standing aghast. subject of this conversation. ‘I have half a mind to shut himMrs Gamp nodded, made as if she were swallowing, and up.’went on.Mrs Gamp rubbed her hands, and smiled, and shook her‘Who’s lying dead upstairs; sech was his Bible language; and head, and sniffed expressively, as scenting a job.where was Mr Chuzzlewit as had the only son; and when he ‘Could you—could you take care of such an idiot, now, ingoes upstairs a-looking in the beds and wandering about the some spare room upstairs?’ asked Jonas.rooms, and comes down again a-whisperin’ softly to his-self ‘Me and a friend of mine, one off, one on, could do it, Mrabout foul play and that; it gives me sech a turn, I don’t deny Chuzzlewit,’ replied the nurse; ‘our charges not bein’ high, butit, Mr Chuzzlewit, that I never could have kep myself up but wishin’ they was lower, and allowance made considerin’ notfor a little drain o’ spirits, which I seldom touches, but could strangers. Me and Betsey Prig, sir, would undertake Mr Chuffeyalways wish to know where to find, if so dispoged, never reasonable,’ said Mrs Gamp, looking at him with her head onknowin’ wot may happen next, the world bein’ so uncertain.’ one side, as if he had been a piece of goods, for which she was‘Why, the old fool’s mad!’ cried Jonas, much disturbed. driving a bargain; ‘and give every satigefaction. Betsey Prig has‘That’s my opinion, sir,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘and I will not nussed a many lunacies, and well she knows their ways, whichdeceive you. I believe as Mr Chuffey, sir, rekwires attention puttin’ ‘em right close afore the fire, when fractious, is the(if I may make so bold), and should not have his liberty to certainest and most compoging.’wex and worrit your sweet lady as he does.’While Mrs Gamp discoursed to this effect, Jonas was walkingup and down the room again, glancing covertly at the old‘Why, who minds what he says?’ retorted Jonas.‘Still he is worritin’ sir,’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘No one don’t clerk, as he did so. He now made a stop, and said:mind him, but he is a ill conwenience.’‘I must look after him, I suppose, or I may have him doing710

Charles Dickenssome mischief. What say you?’‘Mr Chuff,’ he muttered, ‘it’ll be pretty easy to be even‘Nothin’ more likely!’ Mrs Gamp replied. ‘As well I have with you. It’s of no use doing things by halves, and as long asexperienged, I do assure you, sir.’I stop here, I’ll take good care of you. When I’m off you may‘Well! Look after him for the present, and—let me see— say what you please. But it’s a d—d strange thing,’ he added,three days from this time let the other woman come here, pushing away his untouched plate, and striding moodily toand we’ll see if we can make a bargain of it. About nine or ten and fro, ‘that his drivellings should have taken this turn justo’clock at night, say. Keep your eye upon him in the meanwhile,and don’t talk about it. He’s as mad as a March hare!’ After pacing the little room from end to end several times,now.’‘Madder!’ cried Mrs Gamp. ‘A deal madder!’he sat down in another chair.‘See to him, then; take care that he does no harm; and recollectwhat I have told you.’carrying on the same game all along. Old dog! He shall be‘I say just now, but for anything I know, he may have beenLeaving Mrs Gamp in the act of repeating all she had been gagged!’told, and of producing in support of her memory and trustworthiness,many commendations selected from among the way; and then sat down upon the bedstead, leaning his chinHe paced the room again in the same restless and unsteadymost remarkable opinions of the celebrated Mrs Harris, he upon his hand, and looking at the table. When he had lookeddescended to the little room prepared for him, and pulling at it for a long time, he remembered his supper; and resumingthe chair he had first occupied, began to eat with greatoff his coat and his boots, put them outside the door beforehe locked it. In locking it, he was careful so to adjust the key rapacity; not like a hungry man, but as if he were determinedas to baffle any curious person who might try to peep in to do it. He drank too, roundly; sometimes stopping in thethrough the key-hole; and when he had taken these precautions,he sat down to his supper.again, and dart back to the table and fall to, in amiddle of a draught to walk, and change his seat and walkravenous711

Martin Chuzzlewithurry, as before.thony Chuzzlewit and Son. It was a blotched, stained,It was now growing dark. As the gloom of evening, deepeninginto night, came on, another dark shade emerging from running through it, which at unexpected times in the night,mouldering room, like a vault; and there were water-pipeswithin him seemed to overspread his face, and slowly change when other things were quiet, clicked and gurgled suddenly,it. Slowly, slowly; darker and darker; more and more haggard;creeping over him by little and little, until it was black The door into the court had not been open for a long, longas if they were choking.night within him and without.time; but the key had always hung in one place, and there itThe room in which he had shut himself up, was on the hung now. He was prepared for its being rusty; for he had aground floor, at the back of the house. It was lighted by a little bottle of oil in his pocket and the feather of a pen, withdirty skylight, and had a door in the wall, opening into a which he lubricated the key and the lock too, carefully. Allnarrow covered passage or blind-alley, very little frequented this while he had been without his coat, and had nothing onafter five or six o’clock in the evening, and not in much use as his feet but his stockings. He now got softly into bed in thea thoroughfare at any hour. But it had an outlet in a same state, and tossed from side to side to tumble it. In hisneighbouring street.restless condition that was easily done.The ground on which this chamber stood had, at one time, When he arose, he took from his portmanteau, which henot within his recollection, been a yard; and had been convertedto its present purpose for use as an office. But the occa-a pair of clumsy shoes, and put them on his feet; also a pair ofhad caused to be carried into that place when he came home,sion for it died with the man who built it; and saving that it leather leggings, such as countrymen are used to wear, withhad sometimes served as an apology for a spare bedroom, and straps to fasten them to the waistband. In these he dressedthat the old clerk had once held it (but that was years ago) as himself at leisure. Lastly, he took out a common frock ofhis recognized apartment, it had been little troubled by An-coarse dark jean, which he drew over his own under-clothing;712

Charles Dickensand a felt hat—he had purposely left his own upstairs. He the sense of fever in his mouth, a taste of rust, and dust, andthen sat himself down by the door, with the key in his hand, earth, and rotting wood. He looked out; passed out; lockedwaiting.it after him.He had no light; the time was dreary, long, and awful. The All was clear and quiet, as he fled away.ringers were practicing in a neighbouring church, and the clashingof the bells was almost maddening. Curse the clamouringHAPTER FORTY-SEVENbells, they seemed to know that he was listening at the door,and to proclaim it in a crowd of voices to all the town! WouldCONCLUSION OF THE ENTERPRISE OFthey never be still?MR JONAS AND HIS FRIENDThey ceased at last, and then the silence was so new and terriblethat it seemed the prelude to some dreadful noise. Footsteps inDID NO MEN PASSING through the dim streets shrink withoutthe court! Two men. He fell back from the door on tiptoe, as ifknowing why, when he came stealing up behind them? As hethey could have seen him through its wooden panels.glided on, had no child in its sleep an indistinct perception ofThey passed on, talking (he could make out) about a skeletonwhich had been dug up yesterday, in some work of exca-a guilty shadow falling on its bed, that troubled its innocentrest? Did no dog howl, and strive to break its rattling chain,vation near at hand, and was supposed to be that of a murderedman. ‘So murder is not always found out, you see,’that it might tear him; no burrowing rat, scenting the workhe had in hand, essay to gnaw a passage after him, that itthey said to one another as they turned the corner.might hold a greedy revel at the feast of his providing? WhenHush!he looked back, across his shoulder, was it to see if his quickHe put the key into the lock, and turned it. The door resistedfor a while, but soon came stiffly open; mingling withfootsteps still fell dry upon the dusty pavement, or were alreadymoist and clogged with the red mire that stained the713

Martin Chuzzlewitnaked feet of Cain!night was watching, when it never winked, when its darknessHe shaped his course for the main western road, and soon watched no less than its light! The stately trees, the moon andreached it; riding a part of the way, then alighting and walkingon again. He travelled for a considerable distance upon the broad, bright countryside, they all kept watch. There wasshining stars, the softly stirring wind, the over-shadowed lane,the roof of a stage-coach, which came up while he was afoot; not a blade of growing grass or corn, but watched; and theand when it turned out of his road, bribed the driver of a quieter it was, the more intent and fixed its watch upon himreturn post-chaise to take him on with him; and then made seemed to be.across the country at a run, and saved a mile or two before he And yet he slept. Riding on among those sentinels of God,struck again into the road. At last, as his plan was, he came up he slept, and did not change the purpose of his journey. If hewith a certain lumbering, slow, night-coach, which stopped forgot it in his troubled dreams, it came up steadily, and wokewherever it could, and was stopping then at a public-house, him. But it never woke him to remorse, or to abandonmentwhile the guard and coachman ate and drank within. of his design.He bargained for a seat outside this coach, and took it. And He dreamed at one time that he was lying calmly in hishe quitted it no more until it was within a few miles of its bed, thinking of a moonlight night and the noise of wheels,destination, but occupied the same place all night.when the old clerk put his head in at the door, and beckonedAll night! It is a common fancy that nature seems to sleep by him. At this signal he arose immediately—being alreadynight. It is a false fancy, as who should know better than he? dressed in the clothes he actually wore at that time—and accompaniedhim into a strange city, where the names of theThe fishes slumbered in the cold, bright, glistening streamsand rivers, perhaps; and the birds roosted on the branches of streets were written on the walls in characters quite new tothe trees; and in their stalls and pastures beasts were quiet; and him; which gave him no surprise or uneasiness, for he rememberedin his dream to have been there before. human creatures slept. But what of that, when the solemnAlthough714

Charles Dickensthese streets were very precipitous, insomuch that to get from as he had known it—and denounced him as having appointedone to another it was necessary to descend great heights by that direful day to happen. They closed together. As he stroveladders that were too short, and ropes that moved deep bells, to free the hand in which he held a club, and strike the blowand swung and swayed as they were clung to, the danger gave he had so often thought of, he started to the knowledge ofhim little emotion beyond the first thrill of terror; his anxietiesbeing concentrated on his dress which was quite unfitted The sun was welcome to him. There were life and motion,his waking purpose and the rising of the sun.for some festival that was about to be holden there, and in and a world astir, to divide the attention of Day. It was thewhich he had come to take a part. Already, great crowds beganto fill the streets, and in one direction myriads of people Night, with so much leisure for the observation of his wickedeye of Night—of wakeful, watchful, silent, and attentivecame rushing down an interminable perspective, strewing thoughts—that he dreaded most. There is no glare in the night.flowers and making way for others on white horses, when a Even Glory shows to small advantage in the night, upon aterrible figure started from the throng, and cried out that it crowded battle-field. How then shows Glory’s blood-relation,bastard Murder!was the Last Day for all the world. The cry being spread,there was a wild hurrying on to Judgment; and the press becameso great that he and his companion (who was constantly himself now. Murder. He had come to do it.Aye! He made no compromise, and held no secret withchanging, and was never the same man two minutes together, ‘Let me get down here’ he saidthough he never saw one man come or another go), stood ‘Short of the town, eh!’ observed the coachman.aside in a porch, fearfully surveying the multitude; in which ‘I may get down where I please, I suppose?’there were many faces that he knew, and many that he did ‘You got up to please yourself, and may get down to pleasenot know, but dreamed he did; when all at once a struggling yourself. It won’t break our hearts to lose you, and it wouldn’thead rose up among the rest—livid and deadly, but the same have broken ‘em if we’d never found you. Be a little quicker.715

Martin ChuzzlewitThat’s all.’fashioning its jagged head with his knife.The guard had alighted, and was waiting in the road to take The day passed on. Noon, afternoon, evening. Sunset.his money. In the jealousy and distrust of what he contemplated,he thought this man looked at him with more than came out of the city by a road not much frequented. It wasAt that serene and peaceful time two men, riding in a gig,common curiositythe day on which Mr Pecksniff had agreed to dine with‘What are you staring at?’ said Jonas.Montague. He had kept his appointment, and was now goinghome. His host was riding with him for a short distance;‘Not at a handsome man,’ returned the guard. ‘If you wantyour fortune told, I’ll tell you a bit of it. You won’t be drowned. meaning to return by a pleasant track, which Mr PecksniffThat’s a consolation for you.’had engaged to show him, through some fields. Jonas knewBefore he could retort or turn away, the coachman put an their plans. He had hung about the inn-yard while they wereend to the dialogue by giving him a cut with his whip, and at dinner and had heard their orders given.biddig him get out for a surly dog. The guard jumped up to his They were loud and merry in their conversation, and mightseat at the same moment, and they drove off, laughing; leaving have been heard at some distance; far above the sound of theirhim to stand in the road and shake his fist at them. He was not carriage wheels or horses’ hoofs. They came on noisily, todispleased though, on second thoughts, to have been taken for where a stile and footpath indicated their point of separation.an ill-conditioned common country fellow; but rather congratulatedhimself upon it as a proof that he was well disguised. ‘It’s too soon. Much too soon,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘But thisHere they stopped.Wandering into a copse by the road-side—but not in that is the place, my dear sir. Keep the path, and go straight throughplace; two or three miles off—he tore out from a fence a the little wood you’ll come to. The path is narrower there,thick, hard, knotted stake; and, sitting down beneath a hayrick, but you can’t miss it. When shall I see you again? Soon Ispent some time in shaping it, in peeling off the bark, and hope?’716

Charles Dickens‘I hope so,’ replied Montague.cold and dull as his did, in that hour!‘Good night!’So cold, although the air was warm; so dull, although the‘Good night. And a pleasant ride!’sky was bright; that he rose up shivering from his seat, andSo long as Mr Pecksniff was in sight, and turned his head at hastily resumed his walk. He checked himself as hastily; undecidedwhether to pursue the footpath, which was lonelyintervals to salute him, Montague stood in the road smiling,and waving his hand. But when his new partner had disappeared,and this show was no longer necessary, he sat down He took the footpath.and retired, or to go back by the road.on the stile with looks so altered, that he might have grown The glory of the departing sun was on his face. The musicten years older in the meantime.of the birds was in his ears. Sweet wild flowers bloomed aboutHe was flushed with wine, but not gay. His scheme had him. Thatched roofs of poor men’s homes were in the distance;and an old grey spire, surmounted by a Cross, rose upsucceeded, but he showed no triumph. The effort of sustaininghis difficult part before his late companion had fatigued between him and the coming night.him, perhaps, or it may be that the evening whispered to his He had never read the lesson which these things conveyed;conscience, or it may be (as it HAS been) that a shadowy veil he had ever mocked and turned away from it; but, beforewas dropping round him, closing out all thoughts but the going down into a hollow place, he looked round, once, uponpresentiment and vague foreknowledge of impending doom. the evening prospect, sorrowfully. Then he went down, down,If there be fluids, as we know there are, which, conscious of down, into the dell.a coming wind, or rain, or frost, will shrink and strive to hide It brought him to the wood; a close, thick, shadowy wood,themselves in their glass arteries; may not that subtle liquor through which the path went winding on, dwindling awayof the blood perceive, by properties within itself, that hands into a slender sheep-track. He paused before entering; for theare raised to waste and spill it; and in the veins of men run stillness of this spot almost daunted him.717

Martin ChuzzlewitThe last rays of the sun were shining in, aslant, making a peared. At intervals a narrow opening showed him passingpath of golden light along the stems and branches in its range, on, or the sharp cracking of some tender branch denoted wherewhich, even as he looked, began to die away, yielding gently he went; then, he was seen or heard no more.to the twilight that came creeping on. It was so very quiet Never more beheld by mortal eye or heard by mortal ear;that the soft and stealthy moss about the trunks of some old one man excepted. That man, parting the leaves and branchestrees, seemed to have grown out of the silence, and to be its on the other side, near where the path emerged again, cameproper offspring. Those other trees which were subdued by leaping out soon afterwards.blasts of wind in winter time, had not quite tumbled down, What had he left within the wood, that he sprang out of itbut being caught by others, lay all bare and scathed across as if it were a hell!their leafy arms, as if unwilling to disturb the general repose The body of a murdered man. In one thick solitary spot, itby the crash of their fall. Vistas of silence opened everywhere, lay among the last year’s leaves of oak and beech, just as it hadinto the heart and innermost recesses of the wood; beginning fallen headlong down. Sopping and soaking in among thewith the likeness of an aisle, a cloister, or a ruin open to the leaves that formed its pillow; oozing down into the boggysky; then tangling off into a deep green rustling mystery, ground, as if to cover itself from human sight; forcing its waythrough which gnarled trunks, and twisted boughs, and ivycoveredstems, and trembling leaves, and bark-stripped bod-things rejected and forswore it and were coiled up in abhor-between and through the curling leaves, as if those senselessies of old trees stretched out at length, were faintly seen in rence; went a dark, dark stain that dyed the whole summerbeautiful confusion.night from earth to heaven.As the sunlight died away, and evening fell upon the wood, The doer of this deed came leaping from the wood so fiercely,he entered it. Moving, here and there a bramble or a droopingbough which stretched across his path, he slowly disap-torn away in his passage, and fell with violence upon thethat he cast into the air a shower of fragments of young boughs,grass.718

Charles DickensBut he quickly gained his feet again, and keeping underneath beer, and drunk, he offered it to this companion, who thankeda hedge with his body bent, went running on towards the him, and took a draught. He could not help thinking that, ifroad. The road once reached, he fell into a rapid walk, and set the man had known all, he might scarcely have relished drinkingout of the same cup with him.on toward London.And he was not sorry for what he had done. He was frightenedwhen he thought of it—when did he not think of it!— ‘I didn’t see it,’ was his hasty answer.‘A fine night, master!’ said this person. ‘And a rare sunset.’but he was not sorry. He had had a terror and dread of the ‘Didn’t see it?’ returned the man.wood when he was in it; but being out of it, and having ‘How the devil could I see it, if I was asleep?’committed the crime, his fears were now diverted, strangely, ‘Asleep! Aye, aye.’ The man appeared surprised by his unexpectedirritability, and saying no more, smoked his pipe into the dark room he had left shut up at home. He had agreater horror, infinitely greater, of that room than of the silence. They had not sat very long, when there was a knockingwithin.wood. Now that he was on his return to it, it seemed beyondcomparison more dismal and more dreadful than the wood. ‘What’s that?’ cried Jonas.His hideous secret was shut up in the room, and all its terrors ‘Can’t say, I’m sure,’ replied the man.were there; to his thinking it was not in the wood at all. He made no further inquiry, for the last question had escapedhim in spite of himself. But he was thinking, at theHe walked on for ten miles; and then stopped at an alehousefor a coach, which he knew would pass through, on its moment, of the closed-up room; of the possibility of theirway to London, before long; and which he also knew was not knocking at the door on some special occasion; of their beingthe coach he had travelled down by, for it came from another alarmed at receiving no answer; of their bursting it open; ofplace. He sat down outside the door here, on a bench, beside their finding the room empty; of their fastening the doora man who was smoking his pipe. Having called for some into the court, and rendering it impossible for him to get719

Martin Chuzzlewitinto the house without showing himself in the garb he wore, made him, in a gloomy murderous, mad way, not only fearfulfor himself, but OF himself; for being, as it were, a part ofwhich would lead to rumour, rumour to detection, detectionto death. At that instant, as if by some design and order of the room: a something supposed to be there, yet missing fromcircumstances, the knocking had come.it: he invested himself with its mysterious terrors; and whenIt still continued; like a warning echo of the dread reality he he pictured in his mind the ugly chamber, false and quiet,had conjured up. As he could not sit and hear it, he paid for false and quiet, through the dark hours of two nights; and thehis beer and walked on again. And having slunk about, in tumbled bed, and he not in it, though believed to be; heplaces unknown to him all day; and being out at night, in a became in a manner his own ghost and phantom, and was atlonely road, in an unusual dress and in that wandering and once the haunting spirit and the haunted man.unsettled frame of mind; he stopped more than once to look When the coach came up, which it soon did, he got a placeabout him, hoping he might be in a dream.outside and was carried briskly onward towards home. Now,Still he was not sorry. No. He had hated the man too much, in taking his seat among the people behind, who were chieflyand had been bent, too desperately and too long, on setting country people, he conceived a fear that they knew of thehimself free. If the thing could have come over again, he murder, and would tell him that the body had been found;would have done it again. His malignant and revengeful passionswere not so easily laid. There was no more penitence or the crime, were events almost impossible to have happenedwhich, considering the time and place of the commission ofremorse within him now than there had been while the deed yet, as he very well knew. But although he did know it, andwas brewing.had therefore no reason to regard their ignorance as anythingDread and fear were upon him, to an extent he had never but the natural sequence to the facts, still this very ignorancecounted on, and could not manage in the least degree. He of theirs encouraged him. So far encouraged him, that hewas so horribly afraid of that infernal room at home. This began to believe the body never would be found, and began720

Charles Dickensto speculate on that probability. Setting off from this point, The passage-way was empty when his murderer’s face lookedand measuring time by the rapid hurry of his guilty thoughts, into it. He stole on, to the door on tiptoe, as if he dreaded toand what had gone before the bloodshed, and the troops of disturb his own imaginary rest.incoherent and disordered images of which he was the constantprey; he came by daylight to regard the murder as an old bling hand, and pushed the door softly open with his knee, aHe listened. Not a sound. As he turned the key with a trem-murder, and to think himself comparatively safe because it monstrous fear beset his mind.had not been discovered yet. Yet! When the sun which looked What if the murdered man were there before him!into the wood, and gilded with its rising light a dead man’s He cast a fearful glance all round. But there was nothinglace, had seen that man alive, and sought to win him to a there.thought of Heaven, on its going down last night!He went in, locked the door, drew the key through andBut here were London streets again. Hush!through the dust and damp in the fire-place to sully it again,It was but five o’clock. He had time enough to reach his and hung it up as of old. He took off his disguise, tied it upown house unobserved, and before there were many people in a bundle ready for carrying away and sinking in the riverin the streets, if nothing had happened so far, tending to his before night, and locked it up in a cupboard. These precautionstaken, he undressed and went to bed.discovery. He slipped down from the coach without troublingthe driver to stop his horses; and hurrying across the The raging thirst, the fire that burnt within him as he layroad, and in and out of every by-way that lay near his course, beneath the clothes, the augmented horror of the room whenat length approached his own dwelling. He used additional they shut it out from his view; the agony of listening, in whichcaution in his immediate neighbourhood; halting first to look he paid enforced regard to every sound, and thought the mostall down the street before him; then gliding swiftly through unlikely one the prelude to that knocking which should bringthat one, and stopping to survey the next, and so on. the news; the starts with which he left his couch, and looking721

Martin Chuzzlewitin the glass, imagined that his deed was broadly written in his said it was of little consequence, and went away. As I wasface, and lying down and burying himself once more beneath opening my window to let in the cool air, I saw him passingthe blankets, heard his own heart beating Murder, Murder, through the street this morning, very early; but he hasn’t beenMurder, in the bed; what words can paint tremendous truths again.’like these!Passing through the street that morning? Very early! JonasThe morning advanced. There were footsteps in the house. trembled at the thought of having had a narrow chance ofHe heard the blinds drawn up, and shutters opened; and now seeing him himself; even him, who had no object but to avoidand then a stealthy tread outside his own door. He tried to people, and sneak on unobserved, and keep his own secrets;call out, more than once, but his mouth was dry as if it had and who saw nothing.been filled with sand. At last he sat up in his bed, and cried: He called to her to get his breakfast ready, and prepared to‘Who’s there?’go upstairs; attiring himself in the clothes he had taken offIt was his wife.when he came into that room, which had been, ever since,He asked her what it was o’clock? Nine.outside the door. In his secret dread of meeting the householdfor the first time, after what he had done, he lingered at‘Did—did no one knock at my door yesterday?’ he faltered.‘Something disturbed me; but unless you had knocked the door on slight pretexts that they might see him withoutthe door down, you would have got no notice from me.’ looking in his face; and left it ajar while he dressed; and called‘No one,’ she replied. That was well. He had waited, almostbreathless, for her answer. It was a relief to him, if any-that they might become accustomed to his voice. Even whenout to have the windows opened, and the pavement watered,thing could be.he had put off the time, by one means or other, so that he had‘Mr Nadgett wanted to see you,’ she said, ‘but I told him seen or spoken to them all, he could not muster courage for ayou were tired, and had requested not to be disturbed. He long while to go in among them, but stood at his own doorlistening to the murmur of their distant conversation.722

Charles DickensHe could not stop there for ever, and so joined them. Hislast glance at the glass had seen a tell-tale face, but that mightCHAPTER FORTYhavebeen because of his anxious looking in it. He dared notlook at them to see if they observed him, but he thought EIGHTthem very silent.And whatsoever guard he kept upon himself, he could not BEARS TIDINGS OF MARTIN AND OFhelp listening, and showing that he listened. Whether he attendedto their talk, or tried to think of other things, or talked NOT QUITE UNKNOWN TO THEMARK, AS WELL AS OF A THIRD PERSONhimself, or held his peace, or resolutely counted the dull READER. EXHIBITS FILIAL PIETY IN ANtickings of a hoarse clock at his back, he always lapsed, as if a UGLY ASPECT; AND CASTS A DOUBTFULspell were on him, into eager listening. For he knew it mustRAY OF LIGHT UPON A VERY DARKcome. And his present punishment, and torture and distraction,were, to listen for its coming.PLACEHush!TOM PINCH AND RUTH were sitting at their early breakfast,with the window open, and a row of the freshest little plantsranged before it on the inside by Ruth’s own hands; and Ruthhad fastened a sprig of geranium in Tom’s button-hole, tomake him very smart and summer-like for the day (it wasobliged to be fastened in, or that dear old Tom was certain tolose it); and people were crying flowers up and down thestreet; and a blundering bee, who had got himself in between723

Martin Chuzzlewitthe two sashes of the window, was bruising his head against sion of these facts to Tom, and had handed him the money inthe glass, endeavouring to force himself out into the fine a little purse she had worked expressly for the purpose. Theymorning, and considering himself enchanted because he had been in a flutter about this, and perhaps had shed a happycouldn’t do it; and the morning was as fine a morning as ever tear or two for anything the history knows to the contrary; butwas seen; and the fragrant air was kissing Ruth and rustling it was all over now; and a brighter face than Tom’s, or a brighterabout Tom, as if it said, ‘how are you, my dears; I came all face than Ruth’s, the bright sun had not looked on since hethis way on purpose to salute you;’ and it was one of those went to bed last night.glad times when we form, or ought to form, the wish that ‘My dear girl,’ said Tom, coming so abruptly on the subject,that he interrupted himself in the act of cutting a slice ofevery one on earth were able to be happy, and catching glimpsesof the summer of the heart, to feel the beauty of the summer bread, and left the knife sticking in the loaf, ‘what a queerof the year.fellow our landlord is! I don’t believe he has been home onceIt was even a pleasanter breakfast than usual; and it was alwaysa pleasant one. For little Ruth had now two pupils to think he will never come home again. What a mysterious lifesince he got me into that unsatisfactory scrape. I begin toattend, each three times a week; and each two hours at a time; that man does lead, to be sure!’and besides this, she had painted some screens and card-racks, ‘Very strange. Is it not, Tom?’and, unknown to Tom (was there ever anything so delightful!), ‘Really,’ said Tom, ‘I hope it is only strange. I hope therehad walked into a certain shop which dealt in such articles, may be nothing wrong in it. Sometimes I begin to be doubtfulof that. I must have an explanation with him,’ said Tom,after often peeping through the window; and had taken courageto ask the Mistress of that shop whether she would buy shaking his head as if this were a most tremendous threat,them. And the mistress had not only bought them, but had ‘when I can catch him!’ordered more, and that very morning Ruth had made confes-A short double knock at the door put Tom’s menacing looks724

Charles Dickensto flight, and awakened an expression of surprise instead. used to do at the Dragon. How are you, Mark?’‘Heyday!’ said Tom. ‘An early hour for visitors! It must be ‘Uncommonly jolly, sir, thank’ee,’ returned Mr Tapley, allJohn, I suppose.’smiles and bows. ‘I hope I see you well, sir.’‘I—I—don’t think it was his knock, Tom,’ observed his ‘Good gracious me!’ cried Tom, patting him tenderly onlittle sister.the back. ‘How delightful it is to hear his old voice again! My‘No?’ said Tom. ‘It surely can’t be my employer suddenly dear Martin, sit down. My sister, Martin. Mr Chuzzlewit,arrived in town; directed here by Mr Fips; and come for the my love. Mark Tapley from the Dragon, my dear. Good graciousme, what a surprise this is! Sit down. Lord, bless me!’key of the office. It’s somebody inquiring for me, I declare!Come in, if you please!’Tom was in such a state of excitement that he couldn’t keepBut when the person came in, Tom Pinch, instead of saying,‘Did you wish to speak with me, sir?’ or, ‘My name is tween Mark and Martin, shaking hands with them alternately,himself still for a moment, but was constantly running be-Pinch, sir; what is your business, may I ask?’ or addressing and presenting them over and over again to his sister.him in any such distant terms; cried out, ‘Good gracious ‘I remember the day we parted, Martin, as well as if it wereHeaven!’ and seized him by both hands, with the liveliest yesterday,’ said Tom. ‘What a day it was! and what a passionmanifestations of astonishment and pleasure.you were in! And don’t you remember my overtaking you inThe visitor was not less moved than Tom himself, and they the road that morning, Mark, when I was going to Salisburyshook hands a great many times, without another word beingspoken on either side. Tom was the first to find his voice. ation? And don’t you recollect the dinner we had at Salisbury,in the gig to fetch him, and you were looking out for a situ-‘Mark Tapley, too!’ said Tom, running towards the door, Martin, with John Westlock, eh! Good gracious me! Ruth,and shaking hands with somebody else. ‘My dear Mark, come my dear, Mr Chuzzlewit. Mark Tapley, my love, from thein. How are you, Mark? He don’t look a day older than he Dragon. More cups and saucers, if you please. Bless my soul,725

Martin Chuzzlewithow glad I am to see you both!’Miss Pinch, if you knew his value.’And then Tom (as John Westlock had done on his arrival) ‘She knows it, bless you!’ said Tom. ‘I have told her allran off to the loaf to cut some bread and butter for them; about Mark Tapley. Have I not, Ruth?’and before he had spread a single slice, remembered somethingelse, and came running back again to tell it; and then ‘Not all,’ returned Martin, in a low voice. ‘The best of‘Yes, Tom.’he shook hands with them again; and then he introduced Mark Tapley is only known to one man, Tom; and but forhis sister again; and then he did everything he had done alreadyall over again; and nothing Tom could do, and noth-‘Mark!’ said Tom Pinch energetically; ‘if you don’t sit downMark he would hardly be alive to tell it!’ing Tom could say, was half sufficient to express his joy at this minute, I’ll swear at you!’their safe return.‘Well, sir,’ returned Mr Tapley, ‘sooner than you should doMr Tapley was the first to resume his composure. In a very that, I’ll com-ply. It’s a considerable invasion of a man’s jollityto be made so partickler welcome, but a Werb is a wordshort space of time he was discovered to have somehow installedhimself in office as waiter, or attendant upon the party; as signifies to be, to do, or to suffer (which is all the grammar,a fact which was first suggested to them by his temporary and enough too, as ever I wos taught); and if there’s a Werbabsence in the kitchen, and speedy return with a kettle of alive, I’m it. For I’m always a-bein’, sometimes a-doin’, andboiling water, from which he replenished the tea-pot with a continually a-sufferin’.’self-possession that was quite his own.‘Not jolly yet?’ asked Tom, with a smile.‘Sit down, and take your breakfast, Mark,’ said Tom. ‘Make ‘Why, I was rather so, over the water, sir,’ returned Mr Tapley; ‘andhim sit down and take his breakfast, Martin.’not entirely without credit. But Human Natur’ is in a conspiracy‘Oh! I gave him up, long ago, as incorrigible,’ Martin replied.‘He takes his own way, Tom. You would excuse him, wrote upon my tomb: “He was a man as might have comeagain’ me; I can’t get on. I shall have to leave it in my will, sir, to beout726

Charles Dickensstrong if he could have got a chance. But it was denied him.”’ And if they had known how much Tom felt—but that noMr Tapley took this occasion of looking about him with a human creature ever knew—they would have set some storegrin, and subsequently attacking the breakfast, with an appetitenot at all expressive of blighted hopes, or insurmountable Tom changed the topic of discourse. He was sorry he couldby him. Indeed they would.despondency.not pursue it, as it gave Martin pleasure; but he was unable, atIn the meanwhile, Martin drew his chair a little nearer to that moment. No drop of envy or bitterness was in his soul;Tom and his sister, and related to them what had passed at but he could not master the firm utterance of her name.Mr Pecksniff’s house; adding in few words a general summaryof the distresses and disappointments he had undergone ‘No longer to make your fortune, Tom,’ said Martin, ‘but toHe inquired what Martin’s projects were.since he left England.try to live. I tried that once in London, Tom; and failed. If you‘For your faithful stewardship in the trust I left with you, will give me the benefit of your advice and friendly counsel, ITom,’ he said, ‘and for all your goodness and disinterestedness,I can never thank you enough. When I add Mary’s thanks anything, to gain a livelihood by my own exertions. My hopesmay succeed better under your guidance. I will do anything Tom,to mine—’do not soar above that, now.’Ah, Tom! The blood retreated from his cheeks, and came High-hearted, noble Tom! Sorry to find the pride of hisrushing back, so violently, that it was pain to feel it; ease old companion humbled, and to hear him speaking in thisthough, ease, compared with the aching of his wounded heart. altered strain at once, at once, he drove from his breast the‘When I add Mary’s thanks to mine,’ said Martin, ‘I have inability to contend with its deep emotions, and spoke outmade the only poor acknowledgment it is in our power to bravely.offer; but if you knew how much we feel, Tom, you would ‘Your hopes do not soar above that!’ cried Tom. ‘Yes theyset some store by it, I am sure.’do. How can you talk so! They soar up to the time when you727

Martin Chuzzlewitwill be happy with her, Martin. They soar up to the time Mark Tapley. It’s Mark’s doing, I have no doubt; and it serveswhen you will be able to claim her, Martin. They soar up to you right for having such a grumbler for your companion.’the time when you will not be able to believe that you were ‘There’s no credit to be got through being jolly with YOU,ever cast down in spirit, or poor in pocket, Martin. Advice, Mr Pinch, anyways,’ said Mark, with his face all wrinkled upand friendly counsel! Why, of course. But you shall have betteradvice and counsel (though you cannot have more friendly) nothing short of goin’ to the U-nited States for a second trip, aswith grins. ‘A parish doctor might be jolly with you. There’sthan mine. You shall consult John Westlock. We’ll go there would make it at all creditable to be jolly, arter seein’ you again!’immediately. It is yet so early that I shall have time to take Tom laughed, and taking leave of his sister, hurried Markyou to his chambers before I go to business; they are in my and Martin out into the street, and away to John Westlock’sway; and I can leave you there, to talk over your affairs with by the nearest road; for his hour of business was very near athim. So come along. Come along. I am a man of occupation hand, and he prided himself on always being exact to his time.now, you know,’ said Tom, with his pleasantest smile; ‘and John Westlock was at home, but, strange to say, was ratherhave no time to lose. Your hopes don’t soar higher than that? embarrassed to see them; and when Tom was about to goI dare say they don’t. I know you, pretty well. They’ll be into the room where he was breakfasting, said he had a strangersoaring out of sight soon, Martin, and leaving all the rest of there. It appeared to be a mysterious stranger, for John shutus leagues behind.’that door as he said it, and led them into the next room.‘Aye! But I may be a little changed,’ said Martin, ‘since you He was very much delighted, though, to see Mark Tapley; andknew me pretty well, Tom.’received Martin with his own frank courtesy. But Martin felt that‘What nonsense!’ exclaimed Tom. ‘Why should you be he did not inspire John Westlock with any unusual interest; andchanged? You talk as if you were an old man. I never heard twice or thrice observed that he looked at Tom Pinch doubtfully;such a fellow! Come to John Westlock’s, come. Come along, not to say compassionately. He thought, and blushed to think,728

Charles Dickensthat he knew the cause of this.I hope soon to be in a condition to do so, and am aware of no‘I apprehend you are engaged,’ said Martin, when Tom had other reason to prevent my doing so now, than the request ofannounced the purport of their visit. ‘If you will allow me to my employer. It’s an awkward position to be placed in,’ saidcome again at your own time, I shall be glad to do so.’ Tom, with an uneasy sense of seeming to doubt his friend, ‘as‘I am engaged,’ replied John, with some reluctance; ‘but I feel every day; but I really cannot help it, can I, John?’the matter on which I am engaged is one, to say the truth, John Westlock replied in the negative; and Martin, expressinghimself perfectly satisfied, begged them not to say an-more immediately demanding your knowledge than mine.’‘Indeed!’ cried Martin.other word; though he could not help wondering very much‘It relates to a member of your family, and is of a serious what curious office Tom held, and why he was so secret, andnature. If you will have the kindness to remain here, it will be embarrassed, and unlike himself, in reference to it. Nor coulda satisfaction to me to have it privately communicated to he help reverting to it, in his own mind, several times afteryou, in order that you may judge of its importance for yourself.’was ended, taking Mr Tapley with him, who, as he laugh-Tom went away, which he did as soon as this conversation‘And in the meantime,’ said Tom, ‘I must really take myself ingly said, might accompany him as far as Fleet Street withoutinjury.off, without any further ceremony.’‘Is your business so very particular,’ asked Martin, ‘that you ‘And what do you mean to do, Mark?’ asked Tom, as theycannot remain with us for half an hour? I wish you could. walked on together.What IS your business, Tom?’‘Mean to do, sir?’ returned Mr Tapley.It was Tom’s turn to be embarrassed now; but he plainly ‘Aye. What course of life do you mean to pursue?’said, after a little hesitation:‘Well, sir,’ said Mr Tapley. ‘The fact is, that I have been a-‘Why, I am not at liberty to say what it is, Martin; though thinking rather of the matrimonial line, sir.’729

Martin Chuzzlewit‘You don’t say so, Mark!’ cried Tom.I ain’t so clear about it now. A dear, sweet creetur, sir!’‘Yes, sir. I’ve been a-turnin’ of it over.’‘A dear, sweet creature? To be sure she is,’ cried Tom. ‘But‘And who is the lady, Mark?’she always was a dear, sweet creature, was she not?’‘The which, sir?’ said Mr Tapley.‘Was she not!’ assented Mr Tapley.‘The lady. Come! You know what I said,’ replied Tom, ‘Then why on earth didn’t you marry her at first, Mark,laughing, ‘as well as I do!’instead of wandering abroad, and losing all this time, andMr Tapley suppressed his own inclination to laugh; and leaving her alone by herself, liable to be courted by otherwith one of his most whimsically-twisted looks, replied: people?’‘You couldn’t guess, I suppose, Mr Pinch?’‘Why, sir,’ retorted Mr Tapley, in a spirit of unbounded‘How is it possible?’ said Tom. ‘I don’t know any of your confidence, ‘I’ll tell you how it come about. You know me,flames, Mark. Except Mrs Lupin, indeed.’Mr Pinch, sir; there ain’t a gentleman alive as knows me better.You’re acquainted with my constitution, and you’re ac-‘Well, sir!’ retorted Mr Tapley. ‘And supposing it was her!’Tom stopping in the street to look at him, Mr Tapley for a quainted with my weakness. My constitution is, to be jolly;moment presented to his view an utterly stolid and expressionlessface; a perfect dead wall of countenance. But opening sir. In this state of mind, I gets a notion in my head that sheand my weakness is, to wish to find a credit in it. Wery good,window after window in it with astonishing rapidity, and looks on me with a eye of—with what you may call alighting them all up as for a general illumination, he repeated: favourable sort of a eye in fact,’ said Mr Tapley, with modest‘Supposin’, for the sake of argument, as it was her, sir!’ hesitation.‘Why I thought such a connection wouldn’t suit you, Mark, ‘No doubt,’ replied Tom. ‘We knew that perfectly well whenon any terms!’ cried Tom.we spoke on this subject long ago; before you left the Dragon.’‘Well, sir! I used to think so myself, once,’ said Mark. ‘But Mr Tapley nodded assent. ‘Well, sir! But bein’ at that time730

Charles Dickensfull of hopeful wisions, I arrives at the conclusion that no where; I abandons myself to despair, and says, “Let me do thatcredit is to be got out of such a way of life as that, where as has the least credit in it of all; marry a dear, sweet creetur, as iseverything agreeable would be ready to one’s hand. Lookin’ wery fond of me; me bein’, at the same time, wery fond of her;on the bright side of human life in short, one of my hopeful lead a happy life, and struggle no more again’ the blight whichwisions is, that there’s a deal of misery awaitin’ for me; in the settles on my prospects.”’midst of which I may come out tolerable strong, and be jolly ‘If your philosophy, Mark,’ said Tom, who laughed heartilyat this speech, ‘be the oddest I ever heard of, it is not theunder circumstances as reflects some credit. I goes into theworld, sir, wery boyant, and I tries this. I goes aboard ship least wise. Mrs Lupin has said “yes,” of course?’first, and wery soon discovers (by the ease with which I’m ‘Why, no, sir,’ replied Mr Tapley; ‘she hasn’t gone so far asjolly, mind you) as there’s no credit to be got there. I might that yet. Which I attribute principally to my not havin’ askedhave took warning by this, and gave it up; but I didn’t. I gets her. But we was wery agreeable together—comfortable, I mayto the U-nited States; and then I do begin, I won’t deny it, to say—the night I come home. It’s all right, sir.’feel some little credit in sustaining my spirits. What follows? ‘Well!’ said Tom, stopping at the Temple Gate. ‘I wish youJest as I’m a-beginning to come out, and am a-treadin’ on the joy, Mark, with all my heart. I shall see you again to-day, Iwerge, my master deceives me.’dare say. Good-bye for the present.’‘Deceives you!’ cried Tom.‘Good-bye, sir! Good-bye, Mr Pinch!’ he added by way of‘Swindles me,’ retorted Mr Tapley with a beaming face. ‘Turns soliloquy, as he stood looking after him. ‘Although you AREhis back on everything as made his service a creditable one, and a damper to a honourable ambition. You little think it, butleaves me high and dry, without a leg to stand upon. In which you was the first to dash my hopes. Pecksniff would havestate I returns home. Wery good. Then all my hopeful wisions built me up for life, but your sweet temper pulled me down.bein’ crushed; and findin’ that there ain’t no credit for me no-Good-bye, Mr Pinch!’731

Martin ChuzzlewitWhile these confidences were interchanged between Tom This was not said warmly, but was energetically spoken too;Pinch and Mark, Martin and John Westlock were very differentlyengaged. They were no sooner left alone together than speaker felt so strongly.for there was no subject in the world (but one) on which theMartin said, with an effort he could not disguise:‘I grew into the knowledge of Tom,’ he pursued, ‘as I grew‘Mr Westlock, we have met only once before, but you have towards manhood; and I have learned to love him as something,infinitely better than myself. I did not think that youknown Tom a long while, and that seems to render you familiarto me. I cannot talk freely with you on any subject understood him when we met before. I did not think thatunless I relieve my mind of what oppresses it just now. I see you greatly cared to understand him. The instances of thiswith pain that you so far mistrust me that you think me which I observed in you were, like my opportunities forlikely to impose on Tom’s regardlessness of himself, or on his observation, very trivial—and were very harmless, I dare say.kind nature, or some of his good qualities.’But they were not agreeable to me, and they forced themselvesupon me; for I was not upon the watch for them,‘I had no intention,’ replied John, ‘of conveying any suchimpression to you, and am exceedingly sorry to have done believe me. You will say,’ added John, with a smile, as heso.’subsided into more of his accustomed manner, ‘that I am‘But you entertain it?’ said Martin.not by any means agreeable to you. I can only assure you, in‘You ask me so pointedly and directly,’ returned the other, reply, that I would not have originated this topic on any‘that I cannot deny the having accustomed myself to regard account.’you as one who, not in wantonness but in mere thoughtlessnessof character, did not sufficiently consider his nature and complaint to make against you, highly esteem the friendship‘I originated it,’ said Martin; ‘and so far from having anydid not quite treat it as it deserves to be treated. It is much you entertain for Tom, and the very many proofs you haveeasier to slight than to appreciate Tom Pinch.’given him of it. Why should I endeavour to conceal from732

Charles Dickensyou’—he coloured deeply though—‘that I neither understood able astonishment; and soon came back again to fulfil hishim nor cared to understand him when I was his companion; promise. Accompanying him into the next room, Martinand that I am very truly sorry for it now!’found there a third person; no doubt the stranger of whomIt was so sincerely said, at once so modestly and manfully, his host had spoken when Tom Pinch introduced him.that John offered him his hand as if he had not done so before;and Martin giving his in the same open spirit, all con-was gaunt and pale; and evidently had not long recoveredHe was a young man; with deep black hair and eyes. Hestraint between the young men vanished.from a severe illness. He stood as Martin entered, but sat‘Now pray,’ said John, ‘when I tire your patience very much again at John’s desire. His eyes were cast downward; and butin what I am going to say, recollect that it has an end to it, for one glance at them both, half in humiliation and half inand that the end is the point of the story.’entreaty, he kept them so, and sat quite still and silent.With this preface, he related all the circumstances connected ‘This person’s name is Lewsome,’ said John Westlock,with his having presided over the illness and slow recovery of ‘whom I have mentioned to you as having been seized withthe patient at the Bull; and tacked on to the skirts of that an illness at the inn near here, and undergone so much. Henarrative Tom’s own account of the business on the wharf. has had a very hard time of it, ever since he began to recover;Martin was not a little puzzled when he came to an end, for but, as you see, he is now doing well.’the two stories seemed to have no connection with each other, As he did not move or speak, and John Westlock made aand to leave him, as the phrase is, all abroad.pause, Martin, not knowing what to say, said that he was glad‘If you will excuse me for one moment,’ said John, rising, to hear it.‘I will beg you almost immediately to come into the next ‘The short statement that I wish you to hear from his ownroom.’lips, Mr Chuzzlewit,’ John pursued—looking attentively atUpon that, he left Martin to himself, in a state of consider-him, and not at Martin—’he made to me for the first time733

Martin Chuzzlewityesterday, and repeated to me this morning, without the least fact.variation of any essential particular. I have already told you ‘It will be well to leave that in our charge, perhaps,’ saidthat he informed me before he was removed from the Inn, John. ‘But do not mind it now.’that he had a secret to disclose to me which lay heavy on his As he said this, he held up his hand to bespeak Martin’smind. But, fluctuating between sickness and health and betweenhis desire to relieve himself of it, and his dread of in-after a short silence said, in a low, weak, hollow voice:attention. It was already fixed upon the man before him, who,volving himself by revealing it, he has, until yesterday, avoided ‘What relation was Mr Anthony Chuzzlewit, who—’the disclosure. I never pressed him for it (having no idea of its ‘—Who died—to me?’ said Martin. ‘He was myweight or import, or of my right to do so), until within a few grandfather’s brother.’days past; when, understanding from him, on his own voluntaryavowal, in a letter from the country, that it related to a ‘My God!’ said Martin. ‘By whom?’‘I fear he was made away with. Murdered!’person whose name was Jonas Chuzzlewit; and thinking that The young man, Lewsome, looked up in his face, and castingdown his eyes again, replied:it might throw some light on that little mystery which madeTom anxious now and then; I urged the point upon him, and ‘I fear, by me.’heard his statement, as you will now, from his own lips. It is ‘By you?’ cried Martin.due to him to say, that in the apprehension of death, he committedit to writing sometime since, and folded it in a sealed ‘Speak out!’ said Martin, ‘and speak the truth.’‘Not by my act, but I fear by my means.’paper, addressed to me; which he could not resolve, however, ‘I fear this is the truth.’to place of his own act in my hands. He has the paper in his Martin was about to interrupt him again, but John Westlockbreast, I believe, at this moment.’saying softly, ‘Let him tell his story in his own way,’ LewsomeThe young man touched it hastily; in corroboration of the went on thus:734

Charles Dickens‘I have been bred a surgeon, and for the last few years have though I think we all secretly hated him, he came to be theserved a general practitioner in the City, as his assistant. While master of us. To propitiate him we made a jest of his father; itI was in his employment I became acquainted with Jonas began with his debtors; I was one; and we used to toast aChuzzlewit. He is the principal in this deed.’quicker journey to the old man, and a swift inheritance to the‘What do you mean?’ demanded Martin, sternly. ‘Do you young one.’know he is the son of the old man of whom you have spoken?’‘One night he came there in a very bad humour. He had beenHe paused again.‘I do,’ he answered.greatly tried, he said, by the old man that day. He and I wereHe remained silent for some moments, when he resumed alone together; and he angrily told me, that the old man was inat the point where he had left off.his second childhood; that he was weak, imbecile, and drivelling;as unbearable to himself as he was to other people; and‘I have reason to know it; for I have often heard him wishhis old father dead, and complain of his being wearisome to that it would be a charity to put him out of the way. He sworehim, and a drag upon him. He was in the habit of doing so, that he had often thought of mixing something with the stuffat a place of meeting we had—three or four of us—at night. he took for his cough, which should help him to die easily.There was no good in the place you may suppose, when you People were sometimes smothered who were bitten by madhear that he was the chief of the party. I wish I had died myself,and never seen it!’their troubles too? He looked full at me as he said so, and Idogs, he said; and why not help these lingering old men out ofHe stopped again; and again resumed as before.looked full at him; but it went no farther that night.’‘We met to drink and game; not for large sums, but for He stopped once more, and was silent for so long an intervalthat John Westlock said ‘Go on.’ Martin had never re-sums that were large to us. He generally won. Whether or no,he lent money at interest to those who lost; and in this way, moved his eyes from his face, but was so absorbed in horror735

Martin Chuzzlewitand astonishment that he could not speak.out to a distant colony (I had recently got the appointment,‘It may have been a week after that, or it may have been less which, as Mr Westlock knows, I have since lost by my sickness,and which was my only hope of salvation from ruin),or more—the matter was in my mind all the time, but Icannot recollect the time, as I should any other period—when and what did it matter to me? He could get them withouthe spoke to me again. We were alone then, too; being there my aid at half a hundred places, but not so easily as he couldbefore the usual hour of assembling. There was no appointmentbetween us; but I think I went there to meet him, and all, he said, and he had no present idea of using them; but heget them of me. This was true. He might not want them atI know he came there to meet me. He was there first. He was wished to have them by him. All this time he still read thereading a newspaper when I went in, and nodded to me withoutlooking up, or leaving off reading. I sat down opposite a small debt—I was quite in his power—and to pay me fivenewspaper. We talked about the price. He was to forgive meand close to him. He said, immediately, that he wanted me pounds; and there the matter dropped, through others comingin. But, next night, under exactly similar circumstances, Ito get him some of two sorts of drugs. One that was instantaneousin its effect; of which he wanted very little. One that gave him the drugs, on his saying I was a fool to think that hewas slow and not suspicious in appearance; of which he wanted should ever use them for any harm; and he gave me the money.more. While he was speaking to me he still read the newspaper.He said “Drugs,” and never used any other word. Neither ther died soon afterwards, just as he would have died fromWe have never met since. I only know that the poor old fa-did I.’this cause; and that I have undergone, and suffer now, intolerablemisery. Nothing’ he added, stretching out his hands, ‘can‘This all agrees with what I have heard before,’ observedJohn Westlock.paint my misery! It is well deserved, but nothing can paint it.’‘I asked him what he wanted the drugs for? He said for no With that he hung his head, and said no more, wasted andharm; to physic cats; what did it matter to me? I was going wretched, he was not a creature upon whom to heap re-736

Charles Dickensproaches that were unavailing.power. The only person before them was Tom’s landlord. They‘Let him remain at hand,’ said Martin, turning from him; had no right to question Tom’s landlord, even if they could‘but out of sight, in Heaven’s name!’find him, which, according to Tom’s account, it would not‘He will remain here,’ John whispered. ‘Come with me!’ be easy to do. And granting that they did question him, andSoftly turning the key upon him as they went out, he conductedMartin into the adjoining room, in which they had had only to say, with reference to the adventure on the wharf,he answered (which was taking a good deal for granted), hebeen before.that he had been sent from such and such a place to summonMartin was so amazed, so shocked, and confounded by what Jonas back on urgent business, and there was an end of it.he had heard that it was some time before he could reduce it Besides, there was the great difficulty and responsibility ofto any order in his mind, or could sufficiently comprehend moving at all in the matter. Lewsome’s story might be false;the bearing of one part upon another, to take in all the details in his wretched state it might be greatly heightened by a diseasedbrain; or admitting it to be entirely true, the old manat one view. When he, at length, had the whole narrativeclearly before him, John Westlock went on to point out the might have died a natural death. Mr Pecksniff had been theregreat probability of the guilt of Jonas being known to other at the time; as Tom immediately remembered, when he camepeople, who traded in it for their own benefit, and who were, back in the afternoon, and shared their counsels; and thereby such means, able to exert that control over him which had been no secrecy about it. Martin’s grandfather was of rightTom Pinch had accidentally witnessed, and unconsciously the person to decide upon the course that should be taken;assisted. This appeared so plain, that they agreed upon it withoutdifficulty; but instead of deriving the least assistance from views were certain to be his. And the nature of Mr Pecksniff’sbut to get at his views would be impossible, for Mr Pecksniff’sthis source, they found that it embarrassed them the more. views in reference to his own son-in-law might be easily reckonedThey knew nothing of the real parties who possessed this upon.737

Martin ChuzzlewitApart from these considerations, Martin could not endure strange behaviour of the decayed clerk, on the night of thethe thought of seeming to grasp at this unnatural charge against tea-party, became of great moment, and finally convincedhis relative, and using it as a stepping-stone to his grandfather’s them that to arrive at a more accurate knowledge of the workingsof that old man’s mind and memory, would be to take afavour. But that he would seem to do so, if he presentedhimself before his grandfather in Mr Pecksniff’s house again, most important stride in their pursuit of the truth. So, havingfirst satisfied themselves that no communication had everfor the purpose of declaring it; and that Mr Pecksniff, of allmen, would represent his conduct in that despicable light, he taken place between Lewsome and Mr Chuffey (which wouldperfectly well knew. On the other hand to be in possession of have accounted at once for any suspicions the latter mightsuch a statement, and take no measures of further inquiry in entertain), they unanimously resolved that the old clerk wasreference to it, was tantamount to being a partner in the guilt the man they wanted.it professed to disclose.But, like the unanimous resolution of a public meeting,In a word, they were wholly unable to discover any outlet which will oftentimes declare that this or that grievance is notfrom this maze of difficulty, which did not lie through some to be borne a moment longer, which is nevertheless borne forperplexed and entangled thicket. And although Mr Tapley a century or two afterwards, without any modification, theywas promptly taken into their confidence; and the fertile imaginationof that gentleman suggested many bold expedients, mind. For it was one thing to want Mr Chuffey, and anotheronly reached in this the conclusion that they were all of onewhich, to do him justice, he was quite ready to carry into thing to get at him; and to do that without alarming him, orinstant operation on his own personal responsibility; still ‘batingthe general zeal of Mr Tapley’s nature, nothing was made difficulty of striking, in an instrument so out of tune and sowithout alarming Jonas, or without being discomfited by theparticularly clearer by these offers of service.unused, the note they sought, was an end as far from theirIt was in this position of affairs that Tom’s account of the reach as ever.738

Charles DickensThe question then became, who of those about the old ings; and taking their chance of finding her in the repose ofclerk had had most influence with him that night? Tom said private life, or of having to seek her out, elsewhere, in thehis young mistress clearly. But Tom and all of them shrunk exercise of her professional duties. Tom returned home, thatfrom the thought of entrapping her, and making her the he might lose no opportunity of having an interview withinnocent means of bringing retribution on her cruel husband.Was there nobody else? Why yes. In a very different And Mr Tapley remained (by his own particular desire) forNadgett, by being absent in the event of his reappearance.way, Tom said, he was influenced by Mrs Gamp, the nurse; the time being in Furnival’s Inn, to look after Lewsome; whowho had once had the control of him, as he understood, for might safely have been left to himself, however, for anysome time.thought he seemed to entertain of giving them the slip.They caught at this immediately. Here was a new way out, Before they parted on their several errands, they caused himdeveloped in a quarter until then overlooked. John Westlock to read aloud, in the presence of them all, the paper which heknew Mrs Gamp; he had given her employment; he was acquaintedwith her place of residence: for that good lady had oblig-which was to the effect that he had written it voluntarily, inhad about him, and the declaration he had attached to it,ingly furnished him, at parting, with a pack of her professional the fear of death and in the torture of his mind. And when hecards for general distribution. It was decided that Mrs Gamp had done so, they all signed it, and taking it from him, of hisshould be approached with caution, but approached without free will, locked it in a place of safety.delay; and that the depths of that discreet matron’s knowledge of Martin also wrote, by John’s advice, a letter to the trustees ofMr Chuffey, and means of bringing them, or one of them, into the famous Grammar School, boldly claiming the successfulcommunication with him, should be carefully sounded. design as his, and charging Mr Pecksniff with the fraud he hadOn this service, Martin and John Westlock determined to committed. In this proceeding also, John was hotly interested;proceed that night; waiting on Mrs Gamp first, at her lodg-observing, with his usual irreverance, that Mr Pecksniff had been739

Martin Chuzzlewita successful rascal all his life through, and that it would be alasting source of happiness to him (John) if he could help to doCHAPTER FORTY-NINEhim justice in the smallest particular.A busy day! But Martin had no lodgings yet; so when theseIN WHICH MRS HARRIS ASSISTED BY Amatters were disposed of, he excused himself from diningTEAPOT, IS THE CAUSE OF A DIVISIONwith John Westlock and was fain to wander out alone, andBETWEEN FRIENDSlook for some. He succeeded, after great trouble, in engagingtwo garrets for himself and Mark, situated in a court in theMRS GAMP’S APARTMENT in Kingsgate Street, High Holborn,Strand, not far from Temple Bar. Their luggage, which waswore, metaphorically speaking, a robe of state. It was sweptwaiting for them at a coach-office, he conveyed to this newand garnished for the reception of a visitor. That visitor wasplace of refuge; and it was with a glow of satisfaction, whichBetsey Prig; Mrs Prig, of Bartlemy’s; or as some saidas a selfish man he never could have known and never had,Barklemy’s, or as some said Bardlemy’s; for by all these endearingand familiar appellations, had the hospital of Saintthat, thinking how much pains and trouble he had saved Mark,and how pleased and astonished Mark would be, he afterwardswalked up and down, in the Temple, eating a meat-pieBartholomew become a household word among the sisterhoodwhich Betsey Prig adorned.for his dinner.Mrs Gamp’s apartment was not a spacious one, but, to acontented mind, a closet is a palace; and the first-floor frontat Mr Sweedlepipe’s may have been, in the imagination ofMrs Gamp, a stately pile. If it were not exactly that, to restlessintellects, it at least comprised as much accommodationas any person, not sanguine to insanity, could have looked for740

Charles Dickensin a room of its dimensions. For only keep the bedstead alwaysin your mind; and you were safe. That was the grand door, hung a scanty curtain of blue check, which preventedantiquity; and at the upper end, upon the side nearest to thesecret. Remembering the bedstead, you might even stoop to the Zephyrs that were abroad in Kingsgate Street, from visitingMrs Gamp’s head too roughly. Some rusty gowns andlook under the little round table for anything you haddropped, without hurting yourself much against the chest of other articles of that lady’s wardrobe depended from the posts;drawers, or qualifying as a patient of Saint Bartholomew, by and these had so adapted themselves by long usage to herfalling into the fire.figure, that more than one impatient husband coming in precipitately,at about the time of twilight, had been for an in-Visitors were much assisted in their cautious efforts to preservean unflagging recollection of this piece of furniture, by stant stricken dumb by the supposed discovery that Mrs Gampits size; which was great. It was not a turn-up bedstead, nor had hanged herself. One gentleman, coming on the usual hastyyet a French bedstead, nor yet a four-post bedstead, but what errand, had said indeed, that they looked like guardian angelsis poetically called a tent; the sacking whereof was low and ‘watching of her in her sleep.’ But that, as Mrs Gamp said,bulgy, insomuch that Mrs Gamp’s box would not go under ‘was his first;’ and he never repeated the sentiment, though heit, but stopped half-way, in a manner which, while it did often repeated his visit.violence to the reason, likewise endangered the legs of a The chairs in Mrs Gamp’s apartment were extremely largestranger. The frame too, which would have supported the and broad-backed, which was more than a sufficient reasoncanopy and hangings if there had been any, was ornamented for there being but two in number. They were both elbowchairs,of ancient mahogany; and were chiefly valuable for thewith divers pippins carved in timber, which on the slightestprovocation, and frequently on none at all, came tumbling slippery nature of their seats, which had been originally horsehair,but were now covered with a shiny substance of a bluishdown; harassing the peaceful guest with inexplicable terrors.The bed itself was decorated with a patchwork quilt of great tint, from which the visitor began to slide away with a dis-741

Martin Chuzzlewitmayed countenance, immediately after sitting down. What marked here and there in Mrs Gamp’s own hand with a memorandumof the date at which some lady was expected to fall due.Mrs Gamp wanted in chairs she made up in bandboxes; ofwhich she had a great collection, devoted to the reception of It was also embellished with three profiles: one, in colours, ofvarious miscellaneous valuables, which were not, however, as Mrs Gamp herself in early life; one, in bronze, of a lady in feathers,supposed to be Mrs Harris, as she appeared when dressed forwell protected as the good woman, by a pleasant fiction,seemed to think; for, though every bandbox had a carefully a ball; and one, in black, of Mr Gamp, deceased. The last was aclosed lid, not one among them had a bottom; owing to which full length, in order that the likeness might be rendered morecause the property within was merely, as it were, extinguished. obvious and forcible by the introduction of the wooden leg.The chest of drawers having been originally made to stand upon A pair of bellows, a pair of pattens, a toasting-fork, a kettle,the top of another chest, had a dwarfish, elfin look, alone; but a pap-boat, a spoon for the administration of medicine to thein regard of its security it had a great advantage over the refractory, and lastly, Mrs Gamp’s umbrella, which as somethingof great price and rarity, was displayed with particularbandboxes, for as all the handles had been long ago pulled off,it was very difficult to get at its contents. This indeed was only ostentation, completed the decorations of the chimney-pieceto be done by one or two devices; either by tilting the whole and adjacent wall. Towards these objects Mrs Gamp raisedstructure forward until all the drawers fell out together, or by her eyes in satisfaction when she had arranged the tea-board,opening them singly with knives, like oysters.and had concluded her arrangements for the reception ofMrs Gamp stored all her household matters in a little cupboardby the fire-place; beginning below the surface (as in na-Newcastle salmon, intensely pickled.Betsey Prig, even unto the setting forth of two pounds ofture) with the coals, and mounting gradually upwards to the ‘There! Now drat you, Betsey, don’t be long!’ said Mrsspirits, which, from motives of delicacy, she kept in a teapot. Gamp, apostrophizing her absent friend. ‘For I can’t abear toThe chimney-piece was ornamented with a small almanack, wait, I do assure you. To wotever place I goes, I sticks to this742

Charles Dickensone mortar, “I’m easy pleased; it is but little as I wants; but I doin’ of to himself? He’s as white as chalk!’must have that little of the best, and to the minute when the She added the latter clause of inquiry, when she got downstairs,and found him seated in the shaving-chair, pale andclock strikes, else we do not part as I could wish, but bearin’malice in our arts.”’disconsolate.Her own preparations were of the best, for they comprehendeda delicate new loaf, a plate of fresh butter, a basin of ‘Not young Wilkins!’ cried Mrs Gamp. ‘Don’t say young‘You recollect,’ said Poll. ‘You recollect young—’fine white sugar, and other arrangements on the same scale. Wilkins, wotever you do. If young Wilkins’s wife is took—’Even the snuff with which she now refreshed herself, was so ‘It isn’t anybody’s wife,’ exclaimed the little barber. ‘Bailey,choice in quality that she took a second pinch.young Bailey!’‘There’s the little bell a-ringing now,’ said Mrs Gamp, hurryingto the stair-head and looking over. ‘Betsey Prig, my— retorted Mrs Gamp, sharply. ‘Stuff and nonsense, Mrs‘Why, wot do you mean to say that chit’s been a-doin’ of?’why it’s that there disapintin’ Sweedlepipes, I do believe.’ Sweedlepipes!’‘Yes, it’s me,’ said the barber in a faint voice; ‘I’ve just come ‘He hasn’t been a-doing anything!’ exclaimed poor Poll, quitein.’desperate. ‘What do you catch me up so short for, when you see‘You’re always a-comin’ in, I think,’ muttered Mrs Gamp me put out to that extent that I can hardly speak? He’ll never doto herself, ‘except wen you’re a-goin’ out. I ha’n’t no patience anything again. He’s done for. He’s killed. The first time I everwith that man!’see that boy,’ said Poll, ‘I charged him too much for a red-poll. I‘Mrs Gamp,’ said the barber. ‘I say! Mrs Gamp!’asked him three-halfpence for a penny one, because I was afraid‘Well,’ cried Mrs Gamp, impatiently, as she descended the he’d beat me down. But he didn’t. And now he’s dead; and if youstairs. ‘What is it? Is the Thames a-fire, and cooking its own was to crowd all the steam-engines and electric fluids that everfish, Mr Sweedlepipes? Why wot’s the man gone and been a- was, into this shop, and set ‘em every one to work their hardest,743

Martin Chuzzlewitthey couldn’t square the account, though it’s only a ha’penny!’ wouldn’t be too much to clear your mind, which so I tellMr Sweedlepipe turned aside to the towel, and wiped his you. Wot were they a-talkin’ on, and wot was in the papers?’eyes with it.‘All about it!’ cried the barber. ‘What else do you suppose?‘And what a clever boy he was!’ he said. ‘What a surprising Him and his master were upset on a journey, and he wasyoung chap he was! How he talked! and what a deal he know’d! carried to Salisbury, and was breathing his last when the accountcame away. He never spoke afterwards. Not a singleShaved in this very chair he was; only for fun; it was all hisfun; he was full of it. Ah! to think that he’ll never be shaved word. That’s the worst of it to me; but that ain’t all. Hisin earnest! The birds might every one have died, and welcome,’cried the little barber, looking round him at the cages, the city, Crimple, David Crimple, has gone off with themaster can’t be found. The other manager of their office inand again applying to the towel, ‘sooner than I’d have heard money, and is advertised for, with a reward, upon the walls.this news!’Mr Montague, poor young Bailey’s master (what a boy he‘How did you ever come to hear it?’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘who was!) is advertised for, too. Some say he’s slipped off, to jointold you?’his friend abroad; some say he mayn’t have got away yet; and‘I went out,’ returned the little barber, ‘into the City, to they’re looking for him high and low. Their office is a smash;meet a sporting gent upon the Stock Exchange, that wanted a a swindle altogether. But what’s a Life Assurance office to afew slow pigeons to practice at; and when I’d done with him, Life! And what a Life Young Bailey’s was!’I went to get a little drop of beer, and there I heard everybody ‘He was born into a wale,’ said Mrs Gamp, with philosophicalcoolness. ‘and he lived in a wale; and he must takea-talking about it. It’s in the papers.’‘You are in a nice state of confugion, Mr Sweedlepipes, you the consequences of sech a sitiwation. But don’t you hearare!’ said Mrs Gamp, shaking her head; ‘and my opinion is, as nothink of Mr Chuzzlewit in all this?’half-a-dudgeon fresh young lively leeches on your temples, ‘No,’ said Poll, ‘nothing to speak of. His name wasn’t printed744

Charles Dickensas one of the board, though some people say it was just going it warn’t no fault of her’n.’ And further, ‘that it was quiteto be. Some believe he was took in, and some believe he was aggrawation enough to be made late when one was droppingone of the takers-in; but however that may be, they can’t prove for one’s tea, without hearing on it again.’nothing against him. This morning he went up of his own Mrs Gamp, deriving from this exhibition of repartee someaccord afore the Lord Mayor or some of them City big-wigs, clue to the state of Mrs Prig’s feelings, instantly conductedand complained that he’d been swindled, and that these two her upstairs; deeming that the sight of pickled salmon mightpersons had gone off and cheated him, and that he had just work a softening change.found out that Montague’s name wasn’t even Montague, but But Betsey Prig expected pickled salmon. It was obvioussomething else. And they do say that he looked like Death, that she did; for her first words, after glancing at the table,owing to his losses. But, Lord forgive me,’ cried the barber, were:coming back again to the subject of his individual grief, ‘what’s ‘I know’d she wouldn’t have a cowcumber!’his looks to me! He might have died and welcome, fifty times, Mrs Gamp changed colour, and sat down upon the bedstead.and not been such a loss as Bailey!’At this juncture the little bell rang, and the deep voice of ‘Lord bless you, Betsey Prig, your words is true. I quiteMrs Prig struck into the conversation.forgot it!’‘Oh! You’re a-talkin’ about it, are you!’ observed that lady. Mrs Prig, looking steadfastly at her friend, put her hand in‘Well, I hope you’ve got it over, for I ain’t interested in it her pocket, and with an air of surly triumph drew forth eithermyself.’the oldest of lettuces or youngest of cabbages, but at any rate,‘My precious Betsey,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘how late you are!’ a green vegetable of an expansive nature, and of such magnificentproportions that she was obliged to shut it up like anThe worthy Mrs Prig replied, with some asperity, ‘that ifperwerse people went off dead, when they was least expected, umbrella before she could pull it out. She also produced a745

Martin Chuzzlewithandful of mustard and cress, a trifle of the herb called dandelion,three bunches of radishes, an onion rather larger than ‘Nothing if they are,’ said Mrs Prig. ‘But don’t deny it,‘And wot if they are!’ said Mrs Gampan average turnip, three substantial slices of beetroot, and a Sairah.’short prong or antler of celery; the whole of this garden-stuff ‘Who deniges of it?’ Mrs Gamp inquired.having been publicly exhibited, but a short time before, as a Mrs Prig returned no answer.twopenny salad, and purchased by Mrs Prig on condition ‘Who deniges of it, Betsey?’ Mrs Gamp inquired again. Thenthat the vendor could get it all into her pocket. Which had Mrs Gamp, by reversing the question, imparted a deeper andbeen happily accomplished, in High Holborn, to the breathlessinterest of a hackney-coach stand. And she laid so little deniges of it?’more awful character of solemnity to the same. ‘Betsey, whostress on this surprising forethought, that she did not even It was the nearest possible approach to a very decided differenceof opinion between these ladies; but Mrs Prig’s impa-smile, but returning her pocket into its accustomed sphere,merely recommended that these productions of nature should tience for the meal being greater at the moment than her impatienceof contradiction, she replied, for the present, ‘No-be sliced up, for immediate consumption, in plenty of vinegarbody,if you don’t, Sairah,’ and prepared herself for tea. For a‘And don’t go a-droppin’ none of your snuff in it,’ said Mrs quarrel can be taken up at any time, but a limited quantity ofPrig. ‘In gruel, barley-water, apple-tea, mutton-broth, and that, salmon cannot.it don’t signify. It stimulates a patient. But I don’t relish it Her toilet was simple. She had merely to ‘chuck’ her bonnetand shawl upon the bed; give her hair two pulls, one uponmyself.’‘Why, Betsey Prig!’ cried Mrs Gamp, ‘how can you talk so!’ the right side and one upon the left, as if she were ringing a‘Why, ain’t your patients, wotever their diseases is, always asneezin’ couple of bells; and all was done. The tea was already made,their wery heads off, along of your snuff?’ said Mrs Prig. Mrs Gamp was not long over the salad, and they were soon at746

Charles Dickensthe height of their repast.at any rate.’The temper of both parties was improved, for the time being, ‘Why should you be glad of that, Betsey?’ Mrs Gamp retorted,warmly. ‘She is unbeknown to you except by hearsay,by the enjoyments of the table. When the meal came to a termination(which it was pretty long in doing), and Mrs Gamp havingcleared away, produced the teapot from the top shelf, simul-to the character of Mrs Harris, which well I knows behindwhy should you be glad? If you have anythink to say contrairytaneously with a couple of wine-glasses, they were quite amiable. her back, afore her face, or anywheres, is not to be impeaged,‘Betsey,’ said Mrs Gamp, filling her own glass and passing out with it, Betsey. I have know’d that sweetest and best ofthe teapot, ‘I will now propoge a toast. My frequent pardner, women,’ said Mrs Gamp, shaking her head, and shedding tears,Betsey Prig!’‘ever since afore her First, which Mr Harris who was dreadful‘Which, altering the name to Sairah Gamp; I drink,’ said timid went and stopped his ears in a empty dog-kennel, andMrs Prig, ‘with love and tenderness.’never took his hands away or come out once till he was showedFrom this moment symptoms of inflammation began to the baby, wen bein’ took with fits, the doctor collared him andlurk in the nose of each lady; and perhaps, notwithstanding laid him on his back upon the airy stones, and she was told toall appearances to the contrary, in the temper also.ease her mind, his owls was organs. And I have know’d her,‘Now, Sairah,’ said Mrs Prig, ‘joining business with pleasure,wot is this case in which you wants me?’Ninth that it was one too many, if not two, while that dearBetsey Prig, when he has hurt her feelin’ art by sayin’ of hisMrs Gamp betraying in her face some intention of returningan evasive answer, Betsey added:bandy, but I have never know’d as you had occagion to be glad,innocent was cooin’ in his face, which thrive it did though‘Is it Mrs Harris?’Betsey, on accounts of Mrs Harris not requiring you. Require‘No, Betsey Prig, it ain’t,’ was Mrs Gamp’s reply. she never will, depend upon it, for her constant words in sicknessis, and will be, “Send for ‘Well!’ said Mrs Prig, with a short laugh. ‘I’m glad of that,Sairey?”’747

Martin ChuzzlewitDuring this touching address, Mrs Prig adroitly feigning to ceded of Mrs Prig, that if there were a blemish in the goodnessof her disposition, it was a habit she had of not bestow-be the victim of that absence of mind which has its origin inexcessive attention to one topic, helped herself from the teapotwithout appearing to observe it. Mrs Gamp observed it, thoroughly amiable woman would have done), but of keepingall its sharp and acid properties upon her patients (as ahowever, and came to a premature close in consequence. ing a considerable remainder for the service of her friends.‘Well, it ain’t her, it seems,’ said Mrs Prig, coldly; ‘who is it Highly pickled salmon, and lettuces chopped up in vinegar,then?’may, as viands possessing some acidity of their own, have‘You have heerd me mention, Betsey,’ Mrs Gamp replied, encouraged and increased this failing in Mrs Prig; and everyafter glancing in an expressive and marked manner at the teapot,‘a person as I took care on at the time as you and me was marked of her by her friends, that she was most contradictoryapplication to the teapot certainly did; for it was often re-pardners off and on, in that there fever at the Bull?’ when most elevated. It is certain that her countenance becameabout this time derisive and defiant, and that she sat‘Old Snuffey,’ Mrs Prig observed.Sarah Gamp looked at her with an eye of fire, for she saw in with her arms folded, and one eye shut up, in a somewhatthis mistake of Mrs Prig, another willful and malignant stab offensive, because obstrusively intelligent, manner.at that same weakness or custom of hers, an ungenerous allusionto which, on the part of Betsey, had first disturbed their Mrs Prig should know her place, and be made sensible of herMrs Gamp observing this, felt it the more necessary thatharmony that evening. And she saw it still more clearly, when, exact station in society, as well as of her obligations to herself.politely but firmly correcting that lady by the distinct enunciationof the word ‘Chuffey,’ Mrs Prig received the correctance,as she went on to answer Mrs Prig a little more inShe therefore assumed an air of greater patronage and importionwith a diabolical laugh.detail.The best among us have their failings, and it must be con-‘Mr Chuffey, Betsey,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘is weak in his mind.748

Charles DickensExcuge me if I makes remark, that he may neither be so ‘No, Betsey! Drink fair, wotever you do!’weak as people thinks, nor people may not think he is so Mrs Prig, thus baffled, threw herself back in her chair, andweak as they pretends, and what I knows, I knows; and what closing the same eye more emphatically, and folding her armsyou don’t, you don’t; so do not ask me, Betsey. But Mr tighter, suffered her head to roll slowly from side to side,Chuffey’s friends has made propojals for his bein’ took care while she surveyed her friend with a contemptuous smile.on, and has said to me, “Mrs Gamp, WILL you undertake Mrs Gamp resumed:it? We couldn’t think,” they says, “of trusting him to nobodybut you, for, Sairey, you are gold as has passed the ‘Bother Mrs Harris!’ said Betsey Prig.‘Mrs Harris, Betsey—’furnage. Will you undertake it, at your own price, day and Mrs Gamp looked at her with amazement, incredulity, andnight, and by your own self?” “No,” I says, “I will not. Do indignation; when Mrs Prig, shutting her eye still closer, andnot reckon on it. There is,” I says, but one creetur in the folding her arms still tighter, uttered these memorable andworld as I would undertake on sech terms, and her name is tremendous words:Harris. But,” I says, “I am acquainted with a friend, whose ‘I don’t believe there’s no sich a person!’name is Betsey Prig, that I can recommend, and will assist After the utterance of which expressions, she leaned forward,and snapped her fingers once, twice, thrice; each timeme. Betsey,” I says, “is always to be trusted under me, andwill be guided as I could desire.”’nearer to the face of Mrs Gamp, and then rose to put on herHere Mrs Prig, without any abatement of her offensive bonnet, as one who felt that there was now a gulf betweenmanner again counterfeited abstraction of mind, and stretched them, which nothing could ever bridge across.out her hand to the teapot. It was more than Mrs Gamp The shock of this blow was so violent and sudden, thatcould bear. She stopped the hand of Mrs Prig with her own, Mrs Gamp sat staring at nothing with uplifted eyes, and herand said, with great feeling:mouth open as if she were gasping for breath, until Betsey749

Martin ChuzzlewitPrig had put on her bonnet and her shawl, and was gathering one better. Go along with you!’the latter about her throat. Then Mrs Gamp rose—morally ‘And you was a-goin’ to take me under you!’ cried Mrs Prig,and physically rose—and denounced her.surveying Mrs Gamp from head to foot in her turn. ‘YOU‘What!’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘you bage creetur, have I know’d was, was you? Oh, how kind! Why, deuce take your imperence,’Mrs Harris five and thirty year, to be told at last that there said Mrs Prig, with a rapid change from banter to ferocity,ain’t no sech a person livin’! Have I stood her friend in all her ‘what do you mean?’troubles, great and small, for it to come at last to sech a end as ‘Go along with you!’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘I blush for you.’this, which her own sweet picter hanging up afore you all the ‘You had better blush a little for yourself, while you aretime, to shame your Bragian words! But well you mayn’t about it!’ said Mrs Prig. ‘You and your Chuffeys! What, thebelieve there’s no sech a creetur, for she wouldn’t demean herselfto look at you, and often has she said, when I have made ‘He’d very soon be mad enough, if you had anything to dopoor old creetur isn’t mad enough, isn’t he? Aha!’mention of your name, which, to my sinful sorrow, I have with him,’ said Mrs Gamp.done, “What, Sairey Gamp! debage yourself to HER!” Go ‘And that’s what I was wanted for, is it?’ cried Mrs Prig,along with you!’triumphantly. ‘Yes. But you’ll find yourself deceived. I won’t‘I’m a-goin’, ma’am, ain’t I?’ said Mrs Prig, stopping as she go near him. We shall see how you get on without me. Isaid it.won’t have nothink to do with him.’‘You had better, ma’am,’ said Mrs Gamp.‘You never spoke a truer word than that!’ said Mrs Gamp.‘Do you know who you’re talking to, ma’am?’ inquired her ‘Go along with you!’visitor.She was prevented from witnessing the actual retirement of‘Aperiently,’ said Mrs Gamp, surveying her with scorn from Mrs Prig from the room, notwithstanding the great desire shehead to foot, ‘to Betsey Prig. Aperiently so. I know her. No had expressed to behold it, by that lady, in her angry withdrawal,750

Charles Dickenscoming into contact with the bedstead, and bringing down the hands, she delivered the following lamentation:previously mentioned pippins; three or four of which came rattlingon the head of Mrs Gamp so smartly, that when she recov-do not deceive, and a friend not havin’ the pleasure of bein’‘Oh, Mr Sweedlepipes, which Mr Westlock also, if my eyesered from this wooden shower-bath, Mrs Prig was gone. beknown, wot I have took from Betsey Prig this blessed night,She had the satisfaction, however, of hearing the deep voice no mortial creetur knows! If she had abuged me, bein’ inof Betsey, proclaiming her injuries and her determination to liquor, which I thought I smelt her wen she come, but couldhave nothing to do with Mr Chuffey, down the stairs, and not so believe, not bein’ used myself’—Mrs Gamp, by thealong the passage, and even out in Kingsgate Street. Likewise way, was pretty far gone, and the fragrance of the teapot wasof seeing in her own apartment, in the place of Mrs Prig, Mr strong in the room—’I could have bore it with a thankful art.Sweedlepipe and two gentlemen.But the words she spoke of Mrs Harris, lambs could not‘Why, bless my life!’ exclaimed the little barber, ‘what’s forgive. No, Betsey!’ said Mrs Gamp, in a violent burst ofamiss? The noise you ladies have been making, Mrs Gamp! feeling, ‘nor worms forget!’Why, these two gentlemen have been standing on the stairs, The little barber scratched his head, and shook it, and lookedoutside the door, nearly all the time, trying to make you hear, at the teapot, and gradually got out of the room. Johnwhile you were pelting away, hammer and tongs! It’ll be the Westlock, taking a chair, sat down on one side of Mrs Gamp.death of the little bullfinch in the shop, that draws his own Martin, taking the foot of the bed, supported her on the other.water. In his fright, he’s been a-straining himself all to bits, ‘You wonder what we want, I daresay,’ observed John. ‘I’lldrawing more water than he could drink in a twelvemonth. tell you presently, when you have recovered. It’s not pressing,He must have thought it was Fire!’for a few minutes or so. How do you find yourself? Better?’Mrs Gamp had in the meanwhile sunk into her chair, from Mrs Gamp shed more tears, shook her head and feebly pronouncedMrs Harris’s whence, turning up her overflowing eyes, and clasping hername.751

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Have a little—’ John was at a loss what to call it.‘Never mind,’ said John. ‘You know it is not true.’‘Tea,’ suggested Martin.‘Isn’t true!’ cried Mrs Gamp. ‘True! Don’t I know as that‘It ain’t tea,’ said Mrs Gamp.dear woman is expecting of me at this minnit, Mr Westlock,‘Physic of some sort, I suppose,’ cried John. ‘Have a little.’ and is a-lookin’ out of window down the street, with littleMrs Gamp was prevailed upon to take a glassful. ‘On condition,’she passionately observed, ‘as Betsey never has an-truly calls, for bless the mottled little legs of that there pre-Tommy Harris in her arms, as calls me his own Gammy, andother stroke of work from me.’cious child (like Canterbury Brawn his own dear father says,‘Certainly not,’ said John. ‘She shall never help to nurse which so they are) his own I have been, ever since I foundME.’him, Mr Westlock, with his small red worsted shoe a-gurglin’‘To think,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘as she should ever have helped in his throat, where he had put it in his play, a chick, wile theyto nuss that friend of yourn, and been so near of hearing things was leavin’ of him on the floor a-lookin’ for it through thethat—Ah!’ouse and him a-choakin’ sweetly in the parlour! Oh, BetseyJohn looked at Martin.Prig, what wickedness you’ve showed this night, but never‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That was a narrow escape, Mrs Gamp.’ shall you darken Sairey’s doors agen, you twining serpiant!’‘Narrer, in-deed!’ she returned. ‘It was only my having the ‘You were always so kind to her, too!’ said John, consolingly.night, and hearin’ of him in his wanderins; and her the day, ‘That’s the cutting part. That’s where it hurts me, Mrthat saved it. Wot would she have said and done, if she had Westlock,’ Mrs Gamp replied; holding out her glass unconsciously,while Martin filled it.know’d what I know; that perfeejus wretch! Yet, oh goodgracious me!’ cried Mrs Gamp, trampling on the floor, in the ‘Chosen to help you with Mr Lewsome!’ said John. ‘Chosento help you with Mr Chuffey!’absence of Mrs Prig, ‘that I should hear from that samewoman’s lips what I have heerd her speak of Mrs Harris!’ ‘Chose once, but chose no more,’ cried Mrs Gamp. ‘No752

Charles Dickenspardnership with Betsey Prig agen, sir!’‘Which short it is, indeed,’ cried Mrs Gamp, turning up‘No, no,’ said John. ‘That would never do.’her languid eyes, and clasping Mr Westlock’s wrist with matronlyaffection. ‘To-morrow evenin’, sir, I waits upon his‘I don’t know as it ever would have done, sir,’ Mrs Gampreplied, with a solemnity peculiar to a certain stage of intoxication.‘Now that the marks,’ by which Mrs Gamp is sup-‘From nine to ten,’ said John, with a significant glance atfriends. Mr Chuzzlewit apinted it from nine to ten.’posed to have meant mask, ‘is off that creetur’s face, I do not Martin. ‘and then Mr Chuffey retires into safe keeping, doesthink it ever would have done. There are reagions in families he?’for keeping things a secret, Mr Westlock, and havin’ only ‘He needs to be kep safe, I do assure you,’ Mrs Gamp repliedwith a mysterious air. ‘Other people besides me has hadthem about you as you knows you can repoge in. Who couldrepoge in Betsey Prig, arter her words of Mrs Harris, setting a happy deliverance from Betsey Prig. I little know’d thatin that chair afore my eyes!’woman. She’d have let it out!’‘Quite true,’ said John; ‘quite. I hope you have time to find ‘Let him out, you mean,’ said John.another assistant, Mrs Gamp?’‘Do I!’ retorted Mrs Gamp. ‘Oh!’Between her indignation and the teapot, her powers of comprehendingwhat was said to her began to fail. She looked at ened by a very slow nod, and a still slower drawing down ofThe severely ironical character of this reply was strength-John with tearful eyes, and murmuring the well-remembered the corners of Mrs Gamp’s mouth. She added with extremename which Mrs Prig had challenged—as if it were a talismanagainst all earthly sorrows—seemed to wander in her ‘But I am a-keepin’ of you gentlemen, and time is precious.’stateliness of manner after indulging in a short doze:mind.Mingling with that delusion of the teapot which inspired‘I hope,’ repeated John, ‘that you have time to find another her with the belief that they wanted her to go somewhereassistant?’immediately, a shrewd avoidance of any further reference to753

Martin Chuzzlewitthe topics into which she had lately strayed, Mrs Gamp rose; The two young men looked at each other, ludicrouslyand putting away the teapot in its accustomed place, and lockingthe cupboard with much gravity proceeded to attire herperedin John Westlock’s ear,enough; and Martin, stifling his disposition to laugh, whisselffor a professional visit.‘What shall we do now?’This preparation was easily made, as it required nothing ‘Stay here,’ he replied.more than the snuffy black bonnet, the snuffy black shawl, Mrs Gamp was heard to murmur ‘Mrs Harris’ in her sleep.the pattens and the indispensable umbrella, without which ‘Rely upon it,’ whispered John, looking cautiously towardsneither a lying-in nor a laying-out could by any possibility be her, ‘that you shall question this old clerk, though you go asattempted. When Mrs Gamp had invested herself with these Mrs Harris herself. We know quite enough to carry her ourappendages she returned to her chair, and sitting down again, own way now, at all events; thanks to this quarrel, whichdeclared herself quite ready.confirms the old saying that when rogues fall out, honest‘It’s a ‘appiness to know as one can benefit the poor sweet people get what they want. Let Jonas Chuzzlewit look tocreetur,’ she observed, ‘I’m sure. It isn’t all as can. The torters himself; and let her sleep as long as she likes. We shall gainBetsey Prig inflicts is frightful!’our end in good time.’Closing her eyes as she made this remark, in the acutenessof her commiseration for Betsey’s patients, she forgot to openthem again until she dropped a patten. Her nap was also brokenat intervals like the fabled slumbers of Friar Bacon, bythe dropping of the other patten, and of the umbrella. Butwhen she had got rid of those incumbrances, her sleep waspeaceful.754

CHAPTER FIFTYSURPRISES TOM PINCH VERY MUCH,AND SHOWS HOW CERTAIN CONFI-DENCES PASSED BETWEEN HIM AND HISSISTERIT WAS THE NEXT EVENING; and Tom and his sister were sittingtogether before tea, talking, in their usual quiet way, about agreat many things, but not at all about Lewsome’s story oranything connected with it; for John Westlock—really John,for so young a man, was one of the most considerate fellowsin the world—had particularly advised Tom not to mentionit to his sister just yet, in case it should disquiet her. ‘And Iwouldn’t, Tom,’ he said, with a little hesitation, ‘I wouldn’thave a shadow on her happy face, or an uneasy thought in hergentle heart, for all the wealth and honours of the universe!’Really John was uncommonly kind; extraordinarily kind. Ifhe had been her father, Tom said, he could not have taken agreater interest in her.Charles Dickens755But although Tom and his sister were extremely conversational,they were less lively, and less cheerful, than usual. Tomhad no idea that this originated with Ruth, but took it forgranted that he was rather dull himself. In truth he was; forthe lightest cloud upon the Heaven of her quiet mind, cast itsshadow upon Tom.And there was a cloud on little Ruth that evening. Yes, indeed.When Tom was looking in another direction, her brighteyes, stealing on towards his face, would sparkle still morebrightly than their custom was, and then grow dim. WhenTom was silent, looking out upon the summer weather, shewould sometimes make a hasty movement, as if she wereabout to throw herself upon his neck; then check the impulse,and when he looked round, show a laughing face, andspeak to him very merrily; when she had anything to giveTom, or had any excuse for coming near him, she wouldflutter about him, and lay her bashful hand upon his shoulder,and not be willing to withdraw it; and would show by allsuch means that there was something on her heart which inher great love she longed to say to him, but had not the courageto utter.

Martin ChuzzlewitSo they were sitting, she with her work before her, but not ‘How could you, Tom, how could you suffer me to thankworking, and Tom with his book beside him, but not reading,when Martin knocked at the door. Anticipating who it tell me, like a man, that you had deserted me! Was it true,you so fervently and sincerely for your friendship; and notwas, Tom went to open it; and he and Martin came back into Tom! Was it honest! Was it worthy of what you used to be—the room together. Tom looked surprised, for in answer to of what I am sure you used to be—to tempt me, when youhis cordial greeting Martin had hardly spoken a word. had turned against me, into pouring out my heart! Oh, Tom!’Ruth also saw that there was something strange in the mannerof their visitor, and raised her eyes inquiringly to Tom’s grief for the loss of a friend he had trusted in—it expressed suchHis tone was one of such strong injury and yet of so muchface, as if she were seeking an explanation there. Tom shook high past love for Tom, and so much sorrow and compassion forhis head, and made the same mute appeal to Martin. his supposed unworthiness—that Tom, for a moment, put hisMartin did not sit down but walked up to the window, hand before his face, and had no more power of justifying himself,than if he had been a monster of deceit and falsehood.and stood there looking out. He turned round after a fewmoments to speak, but hastily averted his head again, withoutdoing so.loss of what I thought you; and have no anger in the recollec-‘I protest, as I must die,’ said Martin, ‘that I grieve over the‘What has happened, Martin?’ Tom anxiously inquired. ‘My tion of my own injuries. It is only at such a time, and afterdear fellow, what bad news do you bring?’such a discovery, that we know the full measure of our old‘Oh, Tom!’ replied Martin, in a tone of deep reproach. ‘To regard for the subject of it. I swear, little as I showed it—littlehear you feign that interest in anything that happens to me, as I know I showed it—that when I had the least considerationfor you, Tom, I loved you like a brother.’hurts me even more than your ungenerous dealing.’‘My ungenerous dealing! Martin! My—’ Tom could say no Tom was composed by this time, and might have been themore.Spirit of Truth, in a homely dress—it very often wears a756

Charles Dickenshomely dress, thank God!—when he replied to him. I to believe them?’‘Martin,’ he said, ‘I don’t know what is in your mind, or who ‘No,’ replied Tom, calmly. ‘Not if they accuse me. Buthas abused it, or by what extraordinary means. But the means are they never have accused me. Whoever has perverted them tofalse. There is no truth whatever in the impression under which such a purpose, has wronged me almost as cruelly’—his calmnessrather failed him here—’as you have done.’you labour. It is a delusion from first to last; and I warn you thatyou will deeply regret the wrong you do me. I can honestly say ‘I came here,’ said Martin; ‘and I appeal to your good sisterthat I have been true to you, and to myself. You will be very sorry to hear me—’for this. Indeed, you will be very sorry for it, Martin.’‘Not to her,’ interrupted Tom. ‘Pray, do not appeal to her.‘I am sorry,’ returned Martin, shaking his head. ‘I think I She will never believe you.’never knew what it was to be sorry in my heart, until now.’ He drew her arm through his own, as he said it.‘At least,’ said Tom, ‘if I had always been what you charge ‘I believe it, Tom!’me with being now, and had never had a place in your regard, ‘No, no,’ cried Tom, ‘of course not. I said so. Why, tut, tut,but had always been despised by you, and had always deservedit, you should tell me in what you have found me to ‘I never meant,’ said Martin, hastily, ‘to appeal to you againsttut. What a silly little thing you are!’be treacherous; and on what grounds you proceed. I do not your brother. Do not think me so unmanly and unkind. I merelyintreat you, therefore, to give me that satisfaction as a favour, appealed to you to hear my declaration, that I came here for noMartin, but I ask it of you as a right.’purpose of reproach—I have not one reproach to vent—but in‘My own eyes are my witnesses,’ returned Martin. ‘Am I to deep regret. You could not know in what bitterness of regret,believe them?’unless you knew how often I have thought of Tom; how long‘No,’ said Tom, calmly. ‘Not if they accuse me.’in almost hopeless circumstances, I have looked forward to the‘Your own words. Your own manner,’ pursued Martin. ‘Am better estimation of his friendship; and how steadfastly I have757

Martin Chuzzlewitbelieved and trusted in him.’But those who have not the courage to resist such temptations,should have the courage to avow what they have yielded‘Tut, tut,’ said Tom, stopping her as she was about to speak.‘He is mistaken. He is deceived. Why should you mind? He to them; and I do blame you for this, Tom: that you receivedis sure to be set right at last.’me with a show of warmth, encouraged me to be frank and‘Heaven bless the day that sets me right!’ cried Martin, ‘if it plain-spoken, tempted me to confide in you, and professedcould ever come!’that you were able to be mine; when you had sold yourself to‘Amen!’ said Tom. ‘And it will!’others. I do not believe,’ said Martin, with emotion—’hearMartin paused, and then said in a still milder voice: me say it from my heart—I cannot believe, Tom, now that I‘You have chosen for yourself, Tom, and will be relieved by am standing face to face with you, that it would have been inour parting. It is not an angry one. There is no anger on my your nature to do me any serious harm, even though I hadside—’not discovered, by chance, in whose employment you were.‘There is none on mine,’ said Tom.But I should have encumbered you; I should have led you‘—It is merely what you have brought about, and worked into more double-dealing; I should have hazarded your retainingthe favour for which you have paid so high a price,to bring about. I say again, you have chosen for yourself. Youhave made the choice that might have been expected in most bartering away your former self; and it is best for both of uspeople situated as you are, but which I did not expect in you. that I have found out what you so much desired to keepFor that, perhaps, I should blame my own judgment more secret.’than you. There is wealth and favour worth having, on one ‘Be just,’ said Tom; who, had not removed his mild gazeside; and there is the worthless friendship of an abandoned, from Martin’s face since the commencement of this last address;‘be just even in your injustice, Martin. You forget. Youstruggling fellow, on the other. You were free to make yourelection, and you made it; and the choice was not difficult. have not yet told me what your accusation is!’758

Charles Dickens‘Why should I?’ returned Martin, waving his hand, and ‘I am quite—comforted,’ said Tom. ‘It will be set right.’moving towards the door. ‘You could not know it the better ‘Such a cruel, bad return!’ cried Ruth.for my dwelling on it, and though it would be really none the ‘No, no,’ said Tom. ‘He believes it. I cannot imagine why.worse, it might seem to me to be. No, Tom. Bygones shall be But it will be set right.’bygones between us. I can take leave of you at this moment, More closely yet, she nestled down about him; and wept asand in this place—in which you are so amiable and so good— if her heart would break.as heartily, if not as cheerfully, as ever I have done since we ‘Don’t. Don’t,’ said Tom. ‘Why do you hide your face, myfirst met. All good go with you, Tom!—I—’dear!’‘You leave me so? You can leave me so, can you?’ said Tom. Then in a burst of tears, it all broke out at last.‘I—you—you have chosen for yourself, Tom! I—I hope it ‘Oh Tom, dear Tom, I know your secret heart. I have found itwas a rash choice,’ Martin faltered. ‘I think it was. I am sure it out; you couldn’t hide the truth from me. Why didn’t you tellwas! Good-bye!’me? I am sure I could have made you happier, if you had! YouAnd he was gone.love her, Tom, so dearly!’Tom led his little sister to her chair, and sat down in his Tom made a motion with his hand as if he would have putown. He took his book, and read, or seemed to read. Presentlyhe said aloud, turning a leaf as he spoke: ‘He will be little history was written in the action. All its pathetic elo-his sister hurriedly away; but it clasped upon hers, and all hisvery sorry for this.’ And a tear stole down his face, and dropped quence was in the silent touch.upon the page.‘In spite of that,’ said Ruth, ‘you have been so faithful andRuth nestled down beside him on her knees, and clasped so good, dear; in spite of that, you have been so true and selfdenying,and have struggled with yourself; in spite of that,her arms about his neck.‘No, Tom! No, no! Be comforted! Dear Tom!’you have been so gentle, and so kind, and even-tempered,759

Martin Chuzzlewitthat I have never seen you give a hasty look, or heard you say have happened under very different circumstances, but whichone irritable word. In spite of all, you have been so cruelly can never be. Now, tell me. What would you have set right?’mistaken. Oh Tom, dear Tom, will this be set right too! Will She gave Tom such a significant little look, that he wasit, Tom? Will you always have this sorrow in your breast; you obliged to take it for an answer whether he would or no; andwho deserve to be so happy; or is there any hope?’to go on.And still she hid her face from Tom, and clasped him round ‘By her own choice and free consent, my love, she is betrothedto Martin; and was, long before either of them knewthe neck, and wept for him, and poured out all her woman’sheart and soul in the relief and pain of this disclosure. of my existence. You would have her betrothed to me?’It was not very long before she and Tom were sitting side ‘Yes,’ she said directly.by side, and she was looking with an earnest quietness in Tom’s ‘Yes,’ rejoined Tom, ‘but that might be setting it wrong,face. Then Tom spoke to her thus, cheerily, though gravely: instead of right. Do you think,’ said Tom, with a grave smile,‘I am very glad, my dear, that this has passed between us. ‘that even if she had never seen him, it is very likely she wouldNot because it assures me of your tender affection (for I was have fallen in love with Me?’well assured of that before), but because it relieves my mind ‘Why not, dear Tom?’of a great weight.’Tom shook his head, and smiled again.Tom’s eyes glistened when he spoke of her affection; and he ‘You think of me, Ruth,’ said Tom, ‘and it is very naturalkissed her on the cheek.that you should, as if I were a character in a book; and you‘My dear girl,’ said Tom; ‘with whatever feeling I regard make it a sort of poetical justice that I should, by some impossiblemeans or other, come, at last, to marry the person Iher’—they seemed to avoid the name by mutual consent—’Ihave long ago—I am sure I may say from the very first— love. But there is a much higher justice than poetical justice,looked upon it as a dream. As something that might possibly my dear, and it does not order events upon the same prin-760

Charles Dickensciple. Accordingly, people who read about heroes in books, were. My sister, my sweet companion, who makes this placeand choose to make heroes of themselves out of books, considerit a very fine thing to be discontented and gloomy, and been, if this vision had never troubled me? My old friendso dear, is she less devoted to me, Ruth, than she would havemisanthropical, and perhaps a little blasphemous, because they John, who might so easily have treated me with coldness andcannot have everything ordered for their individual accommodation.Would you like me to become one of that sort of less good in that? Are my words to be harsh and my looks toneglect, is he less cordial to me? The world about me, is therepeople?’be sour, and is my heart to grow cold, because there has fallen‘No, Tom. But still I know,’ she added timidly, ‘that this is in my way a good and beautiful creature, who but for thea sorrow to you in your own better way.’selfish regret that I cannot call her my own, would, like allTom thought of disputing the position. But it would have other good and beautiful creatures, make me happier and better!No, my dear sister. No,’ said Tom stoutly. ‘Remember-been mere folly, and he gave it up.‘My dear,’ said Tom, ‘I will repay your affection with the ing all my means of happiness, I hardly dare to call this lurkingsomething a sorrow; but whatever name it may justlyTruth and all the Truth. It is a sorrow to me. I have proved itto be so sometimes, though I have always striven against it. bear, I thank Heaven that it renders me more sensible of affectionand attachment, and softens me in fifty ways. NotBut somebody who is precious to you may die, and you maydream that you are in heaven with the departed spirit, and less happy. Not less happy, Ruth!’you may find it a sorrow to wake to the life on earth, which She could not speak to him, but she loved him, as he wellis no harder to be borne than when you fell asleep. It is sorrowfulto me to contemplate my dream which I always knew ‘She will open Martin’s eyes,’ said Tom, with a glow ofdeserved. Even as he deserved, she loved him.was a dream, even when it first presented itself; but the realitiesabout me are not to blame. They are the same as they Nothing will persuade her, I know, that I have betrayedpride, ‘and that (which is indeed wrong) will be set right.him.761

Martin ChuzzlewitIt will be set right through her, and he will be very sorry for it. intelligent and quick, and for that reason was more upon myOur secret, Ruth, is our own, and lives and dies with us. I guard; but I was not in the least prepared for this. I am suredon’t believe I ever could have told it you,’ said Tom, with a her discovery has been sudden too. Dear me!’ said Tom. ‘It’s asmile, ‘but how glad I am to think you have found it out!’ most singular instance of penetration!’They had never taken such a pleasant walk as they took that Tom could not get it out of his head. There it was, whennight. Tom told her all so freely and so simply, and was so his head was on his pillow.desirous to return her tenderness with his fullest confidence, ‘How she trembled when she began to tell me she knew it!’that they prolonged it far beyond their usual hour, and sat up thought Tom, recalling all the little incidents and circumstances;‘and how her face flushed! But that was natural! Oh,late when they came home. And when they parted for thenight there was such a tranquil, beautiful expression in Tom’s quite natural! That needs no accounting for.’face, that she could not bear to shut it out, but going back on Tom little thought how natural it was. Tom little knewtiptoe to his chamber-door, looked in and stood there till he that there was that in Ruth’s own heart, but newly set there,saw her, and then embracing him again, withdrew. And in her which had helped her to the reading of his mystery. Ah, Tom!prayers and in her sleep—good times to be remembered with He didn’t understand the whispers of the Temple Fountain,such fervour, Tom!—his name was uppermost.though he passed it every day.When he was left alone, Tom pondered very much on this Who so lively and cheerful as busy Ruth next morning!discovery of hers, and greatly wondered what had led her to Her early tap at Tom’s door, and her light foot outside, wouldit. ‘Because,’ thought Tom, ‘I have been so very careful. It have been music to him though she had not spoken. But shewas foolish and unnecessary in me, as I clearly see now, when said it was the brightest morning ever seen; and so it was; andI am so relieved by her knowing it; but I have been so very if it had been otherwise, she would have made it so to Tom.careful to conceal it from her. Of course I knew that she was She was ready with his neat breakfast when he went down-762

Charles Dickensstairs, and had her bonnet ready for the early walk, and was so She put such enticing questions to him; about books, andfull of news, that Tom was lost in wonder. She might have about dates of churches, and about organs and about thebeen up all night, collecting it for his entertainment. There was Temple, and about all kinds of things. Indeed, she lightenedMr Nadgett not come home yet, and there was bread down a the way (and Tom’s heart with it) to that degree, that thepenny a loaf, and there was twice as much strength in this tea as Temple looked quite blank and solitary when he parted fromin the last, and the milk-woman’s husband had come out of her at the gate.the hospital cured, and the curly-headed child over the way had ‘No Mr Fips’s friend to-day, I suppose,’ thought Tom, asbeen lost all yesterday, and she was going to make all sorts of he ascended the stairs.preserves in a desperate hurry, and there happened to be a saucepanin the house which was the very saucepan for the purpose; Tom opened it with his key. He had got the books into per-Not yet, at any rate, for the door was closed as usual, andand she knew all about the last book Tom had brought home, fect order now, and had mended the torn leaves, and hadall through, though it was a teaser to read; and she had so much pasted up the broken backs, and substituted neat labels forto tell him that she had finished breakfast first. Then she had the worn-out letterings. It looked a different place, it was soher little bonnet on, and the tea and sugar locked up, and the orderly and neat. Tom felt some pride in comtemplating thekeys in her reticule, and the flower, as usual, in Tom’s coat, and change he had wrought, though there was no one to approvewas in all respects quite ready to accompany him, before Tom or disapprove of it.knew she had begun to prepare. And in short, as Tom said, He was at present occupied in making a fair copy of his draughtwith a confidence in his own assertion which amounted to a of the catalogue; on which, as there was no hurry, he was painfullyconcentrating all the ingenious and laborious neatness hedefiance of the public in general, there never was such a littlewoman.had ever expended on map or plan in Mr Pecksniff’s workroom.It was a very marvel of a catalogue; for Tom She made Tom talkative. It was impossible to resist her.sometimes763

Martin Chuzzlewitthought he was really getting his money too easily, and he had ‘Ah!’ said Tom, looking towards the door; ‘time was, notdetermined within himself that this document should take a long ago either, when that would have set me wondering andlittle of his superfluous leisure out of him.expecting. But I have left off now.’So with pens and ruler, and compasses and india-rubber, The footstep came on, up the stairs.and pencil, and black ink, and red ink, Tom worked away all ‘Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight,’ said Tom, counting.the morning. He thought a good deal about Martin, and their ‘Now you’ll stop. Nobody ever comes past the thirty-eighthinterview of yesterday, and would have been far easier in his stair.’mind if he could have resolved to confide it to his friend The person did, certainly, but only to take breath; for upJohn, and to have taken his opinion on the subject. But besidesthat he knew what John’s boiling indignation would be, on.the footstep came again. Forty, forty-one, forty-two, and sohe bethought himself that he was helping Martin now in a The door stood open. As the tread advanced, Tom lookedmatter of great moment, and that to deprive the latter of his impatiently and eagerly towards it. When a figure came uponassistance at such a crisis of affairs, would be to inflict a seriousinjury upon him.at him, he rose up from his chair, and half believed he saw athe landing, and arriving in the doorway, stopped and gazed‘So I’ll keep it to myself,’ said Tom, with a sigh. ‘I’ll keep it spirit.to myself.’Old Martin Chuzzlewit! The same whom he had left at MrAnd to work he went again, more assiduously than ever, Pecksniff’s, weak and sinking!with the pens, and the ruler, and the india-rubber, and the The same? No, not the same, for this old man, though old,pencils, and the red ink, that he might forget it.was strong, and leaned upon his stick with a vigorous hand,He had laboured away another hour or more, when he heard while with the other he signed to Tom to make no noise.a footstep in the entry, down below.One glance at the resolute face, the watchful eye, the vigorous764

Charles Dickenshand upon the staff, the triumphant purpose in the figure, ture but for looking forward to this time.’and such a light broke in on Tom as blinded him.He stopped, even in the passion of his speech—if that can‘You have expected me,’ said Martin, ‘a long time.’ be called passion which was so resolute and steady—to press‘I was told that my employer would arrive soon,’ said Tom; Tom’s hand again. Then he said, in great excitement:‘but—’‘Close the door, close the door. He will not be long after‘I know. You were ignorant who he was. It was my desire. I me, but may come too soon. The time now drawing on,’am glad it has been so well observed. I intended to have been said the old man, hurriedly—his eyes and whole face brighteningas he spoke—’will make amends for all. I wouldn’twith you much sooner. I thought the time had come. I thoughtI could know no more, and no worse, of him, than I did on have him die or hang himself, for millions of golden pieces!that day when I saw you last. But I was wrong.’Close the door!’He had by this time come up to Tom, and now he grasped Tom did so; hardly knowing yet whether he was awake or in ahis hand.dream.‘I have lived in his house, Pinch, and had him fawning on medays and weeks and months. You know it. I have suffered himto treat me like his tool and instrument. You know it; you haveseen me there. I have undergone ten thousand times as much asI could have endured if I had been the miserable weak old manhe took me for. You know it. I have seen him offer love toMary. You know it; who better—who better, my true heart! Ihave had his base soul bare before me, day by day, and have notbetrayed myself once. I never could have undergone such tor-765

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONESHEDS NEW AND BRIGHTER LIGHTUPON THE VERY DARK PLACE; ANDCONTAINS THE SEQUEL OF THE ENTER-PRISE OF MR JONAS AND HIS FRIENDTHE NIGHT HAD NOW COME, when the old clerk was to bedelivered over to his keepers. In the midst of his guilty distractions,Jonas had not forgotten it.It was a part of his guilty state of mind to remember it; foron his persistence in the scheme depended one of his precautionsfor his own safety. A hint, a word, from the old man,uttered at such a moment in attentive ears, might fire thetrain of suspicion, and destroy him. His watchfulness of everyavenue by which the discovery of his guilt might be approached,sharpened with his sense of the danger by which hewas encompassed. With murder on his soul, and its innumerablealarms and terrors dragging at him night and day, hewould have repeated the crime, if he had seen a path of safetystretching out beyond. It was in his punishment; it was in hisMartin Chuzzlewit766guilty condition. The very deed which his fears rendered insupportable,his fears would have impelled him to commitagain.But keeping the old man close, according to his design,would serve his turn. His purpose was to escape, when thefirst alarm and wonder had subsided; and when he could makethe attempt without awakening instant suspicion. In the meanwhilethese women would keep him quiet; and if the talkinghumour came upon him, would not be easily startled. Heknew their trade.Nor had he spoken idly when he said the old man shouldbe gagged. He had resolved to ensure his silence; and he lookedto the end, not the means. He had been rough and rude andcruel to the old man all his life; and violence was natural tohis mind in connection with him. ‘He shall be gagged if hespeaks, and pinioned if he writes,’ said Jonas, looking at him;for they sat alone together. ‘He is mad enough for that; I’ll gothrough with it!’Hush!Still listening! To every sound. He had listened ever since,and it had not come yet. The exposure of the Assurance of-

Charles Dickensfice; the flight of Crimple and Bullamy with the plunder, and shout; listened when any one came in or went out; watchedamong the rest, as he feared, with his own bill, which he had from the window the people who passed up and down thenot found in the pocket-book of the murdered man, and street; mistrusted his own looks and words. And the more hiswhich with Mr Pecksniff’s money had probably been remittedto one or other of those trusty friends for safe deposit at fascination which attracted them to the thing itself; lying alonethoughts were set upon the discovery, the stronger was thethe banker’s; his immense losses, and peril of being still called in the wood. He was for ever showing and presenting it, as itto account as a partner in the broken firm; all these things were, to every creature whom he saw. ‘Look here! Do yourose in his mind at one time and always, but he could not know of this? Is it found? Do you suspect me?’ If he had beencontemplate them. He was aware of their presence, and of condemned to bear the body in his arms, and lay it down forthe rage, discomfiture, and despair, they brought along with recognition at the feet of every one he met, it could not havethem; but he thought—of his own controlling power and been more constantly with him, or a cause of more monotonousand dismal occupation than it was in this state of hisdirection he thought—of the one dread question only. Whenthey would find the body in the wood.mind.He tried—he had never left off trying—not to forget it was Still he was not sorry. It was no contrition or remorse forthere, for that was impossible, but to forget to weary himself what he had done that moved him; it was nothing but alarmby drawing vivid pictures of it in his fancy; by going softly for his own security. The vague consciousness he possessed ofabout it and about it among the leaves, approaching it nearer having wrecked his fortune in the murderous venture, intensifiedhis hatred and revenge, and made him set the greaterand nearer through a gap in the boughs, and startling the veryflies that were thickly sprinkled all over it, like heaps of dried store by what he had gained The man was dead; nothing couldcurrants. His mind was fixed and fastened on the discovery, undo that. He felt a triumph yet, in the reflection.for intelligence of which he listened intently to every cry and He had kept a jealous watch on Chuffey ever since the deed;767

Martin Chuzzlewitseldom leaving him but on compulsion, and then for as short The old man, muttering some words softly, rose as if heintervals as possible. They were alone together now. It was would have gone himself, but Jonas thrust him back into histwilight, and the appointed time drew near at hand. Jonas chair with an impatient imprecation, and sent a servant-girlwalked up and down the room. The old man sat in his accustomedcorner.walked to and fro again, and never stopped till she came back,to fetch her. When he had charged her with her errand heThe slightest circumstance was matter of disquiet to the murderer,and he was made uneasy at this time by the absence of his having made good haste.which she did pretty soon; the way being short, and the womanwife, who had left home early in the afternoon, and had not Well! Where was she? Had she come?returned yet. No tenderness for her was at the bottom of this; No. She had left there, full three hours.but he had a misgiving that she might have been waylaid, and ‘Left there! Alone?’tempted into saying something that would criminate him when The messenger had not asked; taking that for granted.the news came. For anything he knew, she might have knocked ‘Curse you for a fool. Bring candles!’at the door of his room, while he was away, and discovered his She had scarcely left the room when the old clerk, who hadplot. Confound her, it was like her pale face to be wandering been unusually observant of him ever since he had asked aboutup and down the house! Where was she now?his wife, came suddenly upon him.‘She went to her good friend, Mrs Todgers,’ said the old ‘Give her up!’ cried the old man. ‘Come! Give her up toman, when he asked the question with an angry oath. me! Tell me what you have done with her. Quick! I haveAye! To be sure! Always stealing away into the company of made no promises on that score. Tell me what you have donethat woman. She was no friend of his. Who could tell what with her.’devil’s mischief they might hatch together! Let her be fetched He laid his hands upon his collar as he spoke, and graspedhome directly.it; tightly too.768

Charles Dickens‘You shall not leave me!’ cried the old man. ‘I am strong Seeing that the tears were stealing down his face, Jonasenough to cry out to the neighbours, and I will, unless you mustered courage to unclench his hands, and push him offgive her up. Give her up to me!’before he answered:Jonas was so dismayed and conscience-stricken, that he had not ‘Did you hear me ask for her? Did you hear me send foreven hardihood enough to unclench the old man’s hands with his her? How can I give you up what I haven’t got, idiot! Ecod,own; but stood looking at him as well as he could in the darkness, I’d give her up to you and welcome, if I could; and a preciouswithout moving a finger. It was as much as he could do to ask him pair you’d be!’what he meant.‘If she has come to any harm,’ cried Chuffey, ‘mind! I’m‘I will know what you have done with her!’ retorted old and silly; but I have my memory sometimes; and if sheChuffey. ‘If you hurt a hair of her head, you shall answer it. has come to any harm—’Poor thing! Poor thing! Where is she?’‘Devil take you,’ interrupted Jonas, but in a suppressed voice‘Why, you old madman!’ said Jonas, in a low voice, and still; ‘what harm do you suppose she has come to? I know nowith trembling lips. ‘What Bedlam fit has come upon you more where she is than you do; I wish I did. Wait till shenow?’comes home, and see; she can’t be long. Will that content‘It is enough to make me mad, seeing what I have seen in you?’this house!’ cried Chuffey. ‘Where is my dear old master! ‘Mind!’ exclaimed the old man. ‘Not a hair of her head!Where is his only son that I have nursed upon my knee, a not a hair of her head ill-used! I won’t bear it. I—I—havechild! Where is she, she who was the last; she that I’ve seen borne it too long Jonas. I am silent, but I—I—I can speak.pining day by day, and heard weeping in the dead of night! I—I—I can speak—’ he stammered, as he crept back to hisShe was the last, the last of all my friends! Heaven help me, chair, and turned a threatening, though a feeble, look uponshe was the very last!’him.769

Martin Chuzzlewit‘You can speak, can you!’ thought Jonas. ‘So, so, we’ll stop Mrs Gamp kept particularly close to the door in sayingyour speaking. It’s well I knew of this in good time. Preventionis better than cure.’quite so much at her ease as she generally was.this, and curtseyed more than usual. She did not appear to beHe had made a poor show of playing the bully and evincinga desire to conciliate at the same time, but was so afraid of speaking in her ear. ‘He has been raving to-night—stark mad.‘Get him to his room,’ said Jonas, walking up to her, andthe old man that great drops had started out upon his brow; Don’t talk while he’s here, but come down again.’and they stood there yet. His unusual tone of voice and agitatedmanner had sufficiently expressed his fear; but his face derness. ‘He’s all of a tremble.’‘Poor sweet dear!’ cried Mrs Gamp, with uncommon ten-would have done so now, without that aid, as he again walked ‘Well he may be,’ said Jonas, ‘after the mad fit he has had.to and fro, glancing at him by the candelight.Get him upstairs.’He stopped at the window to think. An opposite shop was She was by this time assisting him to rise.lighted up; and the tradesman and a customer were reading ‘There’s my blessed old chick!’ cried Mrs Gamp, in a tonesome printed bill together across the counter. The sight that was at once soothing and encouraging. ‘There’s my darlin’brought him back, instantly, to the occupation he had forgotten.‘Look here! Do you know of this? Is it found? Do down on your bed a bit; for you’re a-shakin’ all over, as ifMr Chuffey! Now come up to your own room, sir, and layyou suspect me?’your precious jints was hung upon wires. That’s a good creetur!A hand upon the door. ‘What’s that!’Come with Sairey!’‘A pleasant evenin’,’ said the voice of Mrs Gamp, ‘though ‘Is she come home?’ inquired the old man.warm, which, bless you, Mr Chuzzlewit, we must expect when ‘She’ll be here directly minit,’ returned Mrs Gamp. ‘Comecowcumbers is three for twopence. How does Mr Chuffey with Sairey, Mr Chuffey. Come with your own Sairey!’find his self to-night, sir?’The good woman had no reference to any female in the770

Charles Dickensworld in promising this speedy advent of the person for whom ‘Sit down,’ said Jonas, hoarsely, ‘and let us get this businessMr Chuffey inquired, but merely threw it out as a means of done. Where is the other woman?’pacifying the old man. It had its effect, for he permitted her ‘The other person’s with him now,’ she answered.to lead him away; and they quitted the room together. ‘That’s right,’ said Jonas. ‘He is not fit to be left to himself.Jonas looked out of the window again. They were still readingthe printed paper in the shop opposite, and a third man had savage dog. Old as he is, and feeble as he is usually, I had someWhy, he fastened on me to-night; here, upon my coat; like ajoined in the perusal. What could it be, to interest them so?’ trouble to shake him off. You—Hush!—It’s nothing. YouA dispute or discussion seemed to arise among them, for told me the other woman’s name. I forget it.’they all looked up from their reading together, and one of the ‘I mentioned Betsey Prig,’ said Mrs Gamp.three, who had been glancing over the shoulder of another, ‘She is to be trusted, is she?’stepped back to explain or illustrate some action by his gestures.Mr Chuzzlewit. I’ve brought another, which engages to give‘That she ain’t!’ said Mrs Gamp; ‘nor have I brought her,Horror! How like the blow he had struck in the wood! every satigefaction.’It beat him from the window as if it had lighted on himself.As he staggered into a chair, he thought of the change in Mrs Gamp looked at him in an odd way without returning‘What is her name?’ asked Jonas.Mrs Gamp exhibited in her new-born tenderness to her charge. any answer, but appeared to understand the question too.Was that because it was found?—because she knew of it?— ‘What is her name?’ repeated Jonas.because she suspected him?‘Her name,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘is Harris.’‘Mr Chuffey is a-lyin’ down,’ said Mrs Gamp, returning, It was extraordinary how much effort it cost Mrs Gamp to‘and much good may it do him, Mr Chuzzlewit, which harm pronounce the name she was commonly so ready with. Sheit can’t and good it may; be joyful!’made some three or four gasps before she could get it out;771

Martin Chuzzlewitand, when she had uttered it, pressed her hand upon her side, Mrs Gamp assented with a short groan.and turned up her eyes, as if she were going to faint away. ‘Keep him close, then, or in one of his fits he’ll be doingBut, knowing her to labour under a complication of internal me a mischief. And don’t trust him at any time; for when hedisorders, which rendered a few drops of spirits indispensable seems most rational, he’s wildest in his talk. But that youat certain times to her existence, and which came on very know already. Let me see the other.’strong when that remedy was not at hand, Jonas merely supposedher to be the victim of one of these attacks.‘Aye! Go you to him and send the other. Quick! I’m busy.’‘The t’other person, sir?’ said Mrs Gamp.‘Well!’ he said, hastily, for he felt how incapable he was of Mrs Gamp took two or three backward steps towards theconfining his wandering attention to the subject. ‘You and door, and stopped there.she have arranged to take care of him, have you?’‘It is your wishes, Mr Chuzzlewit,’ she said, in a sort ofMrs Gamp replied in the affirmative, and softly discharged herselfof her familiar phrase, ‘Turn and turn about; one off, one on.’ But the ghastly change in Jonas told her that the other per-quavering croak, ‘to see the t’other person. Is it?’But she spoke so tremulously that she felt called upon to add, son was already seen. Before she could look round towards‘which fiddle-strings is weakness to expredge my nerves this night!’ the door, she was put aside by old Martin’s hand; and ChuffeyJonas stopped to listen. Then said, hurriedly:and John Westlock entered with him.‘We shall not quarrel about terms. Let them be the same as ‘Let no one leave the house,’ said Martin. ‘This man is mythey were before. Keep him close, and keep him quiet. He brother’s son. Ill-met, ill-trained, ill-begotten. If he movesmust be restrained. He has got it in his head to-night that my from the spot on which he stands, or speaks a word above hiswife’s dead, and has been attacking me as if I had killed her. breath to any person here, open the window, and call for help!’It’s—it’s common with mad people to take the worst fancies ‘What right have you to give such directions in this house?’of those they like best. Isn’t it?’asked Jonas faintly.772

Charles Dickens‘The right of your wrong-doing. Come in there!’ lows, too! Why, that uncle of mine is childish; he’s even a greaterAn irrepressible exclamation burst from the lips of Jonas, as child than his brother, my father, was, in his old age; or thanLewsome entered at the door. It was not a groan, or a shriek, or Chuffey is. What the devil do you mean,’ he added, lookinga word, but was wholly unlike any sound that had ever fallen fiercely at John Westlock and Mark Tapley (the latter had enteredwith Lewsome), ‘by coming here, and bringing two idi-on the ears of those who heard it, while at the same time it wasthe most sharp and terrible expression of what was working in ots and a knave with you to take my house by storm? Hallo,his guilty breast, that nature could have invented.there! Open the door! Turn these strangers out!’He had done murder for this! He had girdled himself about ‘I tell you what,’ cried Mr Tapley, coming forward, ‘if itwith perils, agonies of mind, innumerable fears, for this! He wasn’t for your name, I’d drag you through the streets of myhad hidden his secret in the wood; pressed and stamped it down own accord, and single-handed I would! Ah, I would! Don’tinto the bloody ground; and here it started up when least expected,miles upon miles away; known to many; proclaiming was to old Martin. ‘Bring the murderin’ wagabond upon histry and look bold at me. You can’t do it! Now go on, sir,’ thisitself from the lips of an old man who had renewed his strength knees! If he wants noise, he shall have enough of it; for as sureand vigour as by a miracle, to give it voice against him! as he’s a shiverin’ from head to foot I’ll raise a uproar at thisHe leaned his hand on the back of a chair, and looked at winder that shall bring half London in. Go on, sir! Let himthem. It was in vain to try to do so scornfully, or with his try me once, and see whether I’m a man of my word or not.’usual insolence. He required the chair for his support. But he With that, Mark folded his arms, and took his seat uponmade a struggle for it.the window-ledge, with an air of general preparation for anything,which seemed to imply that he was equally ready to‘I know that fellow,’ he said, fetching his breath at every word,and pointing his trembling finger towards Lewsome. ‘He’s the jump out himself, or to throw Jonas out, upon receiving thegreatest liar alive. What’s his last tale? Ha, ha! You’re rare fel-slightest hint that it would be agreeable to the company.773

Martin ChuzzlewitOld Martin turned to Lewsome:repeat, defy, do what you please. My course will be the same.‘This is the man,’ he said, extending his hand towards Jonas. Go on! And you,’ he said to Chuffey, ‘for the love of your‘Is it?’old friend, speak out, good fellow!’‘You need do no more than look at him to be sure of that, ‘I have been silent for his love!’ cried the old man. ‘Heor of the truth of what I have said,’ was the reply. ‘He is my urged me to it. He made me promise it upon his dying bed.witness.’I never would have spoken, but for your finding out so much.‘Oh, brother!’ cried old Martin, clasping his hands and liftingup his eyes. ‘Oh, brother, brother! Were we strangers half sometimes I have had it all before me in a dream; but in theI have thought about it ever since; I couldn’t help that; andour lives that you might breed a wretch like this, and I make day-time, not in sleep. Is there such a kind of dream?’ saidlife a desert by withering every flower that grew about me! Is Chuffey, looking anxiously in old Martin’s face.it the natural end of your precepts and mine, that this should As Martin made him an encouraging reply, he listened attentivelyto his voice, and smiled.be the creature of your rearing, training, teaching, hoarding,striving for; and I the means of bringing him to punishment, ‘Ah, aye!’ he cried. ‘He often spoke to me like that. Wewhen nothing can repair the wasted past!’were at school together, he and I. I couldn’t turn against hisHe sat down upon a chair as he spoke, and turning away his son, you know—his only son, Mr Chuzzlewit!’face, was silent for a few moments. Then with recovered energyhe proceeded:‘You speak so like my dear old master,’ cried the old man‘I would to Heaven you had been his son!’ said Martin.‘But the accursed harvest of our mistaken lives shall be troddendown. It is not too late for that. You are confronted with hear you quite as well as I used to hear him. It makes mewith a childish delight, ‘that I almost think I hear him. I canthis man, you monster there; not to be spared, but to be dealt young again. He never spoke unkindly to me, and I alwayswith justly. Hear what he says! Reply, be silent, contradict, understood him. I could always see him too, though my sight774

Charles Dickenswas dim. Well, well! He’s dead, he’s dead. He was very good face, with every circumstance of time and place and incident;to me, my dear old master!’and openly proclaiming, with no reserve, suppression, passion,or concealment; all the truth. The truth, which nothingHe shook his head mournfully over the brother’s hand. Atthis moment Mark, who had been glancing out of the window,left the room.would not hide; the truth, whose terrible inspiration seemedwould keep down; which blood would not smother, and earth‘I couldn’t turn against his only son, you know,’ said Chuffey. to change dotards into strong men; and on whose avenging‘He has nearly driven me to do it sometimes; he very nearly wings, one whom he had supposed to be at the extremestdid tonight. Ah!’ cried the old man, with a sudden recollectionof the cause. ‘Where is she? She’s not come home!’ He tried to deny it, but his tongue would not move. Hecorner of the earth came swooping down upon him.‘Do you mean his wife?’ said Mr Chuzzlewit.conceived some desperate thought of rushing away, and tearingthrough the streets; but his limbs would as little answer‘Yes.’‘I have removed her. She is in my care, and will be spared to his will as his stark, stiff staring face. All this time the voicethe present knowledge of what is passing here. She has known went slowly on, denouncing him. It was as if every drop ofmisery enough, without that addition.’blood in the wood had found a voice to jeer him with.Jonas heard this with a sinking heart. He knew that they When it ceased, another voice took up the tale, but strangely;were on his heels, and felt that they were resolute to run him for the old clerk, who had watched, and listened to the whole,to destruction. Inch by inch the ground beneath him was and had wrung his hands from time to time, as if he knew itssliding from his feet; faster and faster the encircling ruin contractedand contracted towards himself, its wicked centre, until ‘No, no, no! you’re wrong; you’re wrong—all wrong to-truth and could confirm it, broke in with these words:it should close in and crush him.gether! Have patience, for the truth is only known to me!’And now he heard the voice of his accomplice stating to his ‘How can that be,’ said his old master’s brother, ‘after what775

Martin Chuzzlewityou have heard? Besides, you said just now, above-stairs, when one-third in the room, ready for siding with the strongestI told you of the accusation against him, that you knew he party; came a little further in and remarked, with a sob, thatwas his father’s murderer.’Mr Chuffey was ‘the sweetest old creetur goin’.’‘Aye, yes! and so he was!’ cried Chuffey, wildly. ‘But not as ‘He bought the stuff,’ said Chuffey, stretching out his armyou suppose—not as you suppose. Stay! Give me a moment’s towards Jonas while an unwonted fire shone in his eye, andtime. I have it all here—all here! It was foul, foul, cruel, bad; lightened up his face; ‘he bought the stuff, no doubt, as youbut not as you suppose. Stay, stay!’have heard, and brought it home. He mixed the stuff—lookHe put his hands up to his head, as if it throbbed or pained at him!—with some sweetmeat in a jar, exactly as the medicinefor his father’s cough was mixed, and put it in a drawer;him. After looking about him in a wandering and vacantmanner for some moments, his eyes rested upon Jonas, when in that drawer yonder in the desk; he knows which drawer Ithey kindled up with sudden recollection and intelligence. mean! He kept it there locked up. But his courage failed him‘Yes!’ cried old Chuffey, ‘yes! That’s how it was. It’s all upon or his heart was touched—my God! I hope it was his heart!me now. He—he got up from his bed before he died, to be He was his only son!—and he did not put it in the usualsure, to say that he forgave him; and he came down with me place, where my old master would have taken it twenty timesinto this room; and when he saw him—his only son, the son a day.’he loved—his speech forsook him; he had no speech for what The trembling figure of the old man shook with the stronghe knew—and no one understood him except me. But I did— emotions that possessed him. But, with the same light in hisI did!’eye, and with his arm outstretched, and with his grey hairOld Martin regarded him in amazement; so did his companions.Mrs Gamp, who had said nothing yet; but had kept man inspired. Jonas shrunk from looking at him, and cow-stirring on his head, he seemed to grow in size, and was like atwo-thirds of herself behind the door, ready for escape, and ered down into the chair by which he had held. It seemed as if776

Charles Dickensthis tremendous Truth could make the dumb speak. weary for my death, Chuff. He shall have it now; he shall‘I know it every word now!’ cried Chuffey. ‘Every word! marry where he has a fancy, Chuff, although it don’t pleaseHe put it in that drawer, as I have said. He went so often me; and you and I will go away and live upon a little. I alwaysthere, and was so secret, that his father took notice of it; and loved him; perhaps he’ll love me then. It’s a dreadful thing towhen he was out, had it opened. We were there together, and have my own child thirsting for my death. But I might havewe found the mixture—Mr Chuzzlewit and I. He took it known it. I have sown, and I must reap. He shall believe thatinto his possession, and made light of it at the time; but in I am taking this; and when I see that he is sorry, and has all hethe night he came to my bedside, weeping, and told me that wants, I’ll tell him that I found it out, and I’ll forgive him.his own son had it in his mind to poison him. “Oh, Chuff,” he He’ll make a better man of his own son, and be a better mansaid, “oh, dear old Chuff! a voice came into my room to-night, himself, perhaps, Chuff!”’and told me that this crime began with me. It began when I Poor Chuffey paused to dry his eyes again. Old Martin’staught him to be too covetous of what I have to leave, and face was hidden in his hands. Jonas listened still more keenly,made the expectation of it his great business!” Those were his and his breast heaved like a swollen water, but with hope.words; aye, they are his very words! If he was a hard man now With growing hope.and then, it was for his only son. He loved his only son, and he ‘My dear old master made believe next day,’ said Chuffey,was always good to me!’‘that he had opened the drawer by mistake with a key from theJonas listened with increased attention. Hope was breaking bunch, which happened to fit it (we had one made and hungin upon him.upon it); and that he had been surprised to find his fresh supply‘“He shall not weary for my death, Chuff;” that was what of cough medicine in such a place, but supposed it had beenhe said next,’ pursued the old clerk, as he wiped his eyes; ‘that put there in a hurry when the drawer stood open. We burnt it;was what he said next, crying like a little child: “He shall not but his son believed that he was taking it—he knows he did.777

Martin ChuzzlewitOnce Mr Chuzzlewit, to try him, took heart to say it had a Jonas could look at his company now, and vauntingly too.strange taste; and he got up directly, and went out.’‘Well!’ he said, after a pause. ‘Are you satisfied? or have youJonas gave a short, dry cough; and, changing his position any more of your plots to broach? Why that fellow, Lewsome,for an easier one, folded his arms without looking at them, can invent ‘em for you by the score. Is this all? Have youthough they could now see his face.nothing else?’‘Mr Chuzzlewit wrote to her father; I mean the father of Old Martin looked at him steadily.the poor thing who’s his wife,’ said Chuffey; ‘and got him to ‘Whether you are what you seemed to be at Pecksniff’s, orcome up, intending to hasten on the marriage. But his mind, are something else and a mountebank, I don’t know and Ilike mine, went a little wrong through grief, and then his don’t care,’ said Jonas, looking downward with a smile, ‘butheart broke. He sank and altered from the time when he came I don’t want you here. You were here so often when yourto me in the night; and never held up his head again. It was brother was alive, and were always so fond of him (your dear,only a few days, but he had never changed so much in twice dear brother, and you would have been cuffing one anotherthe years. “Spare him, Chuff!” he said, before he died. They before this, ecod!), that I am not surprised at your being attachedto the place; but the place is not attached to you, andwere the only words he could speak. “Spare him, Chuff!” Ipromised him I would. I’ve tried to do it. He’s his only son.’ you can’t leave it too soon, though you may leave it too late.On his recollection of the last scene in his old friend’s life, And for my wife, old man, send her home straight, or it willpoor Chuffey’s voice, which had grown weaker and weaker, be the worse for her. Ha, ha! You carry it with a high hand,quite deserted him. Making a motion with his hand, as if he too! But it isn’t hanging yet for a man to keep a penn’orth ofwould have said that Anthony had taken it, and had died poison for his own purposes, and have it taken from him bywith it in his, he retreated to the corner where he usually two old crazy jolter-heads who go and act a play about it. Ha,concealed his sorrows; and was silent.ha! Do you see the door?’778

Charles DickensHis base triumph, struggling with his cowardice, and shame, ‘I can’t leave her, poor thing!’ said Chuffey. ‘She has beenand guilt, was so detestable, that they turned away from him, very good to me. I can’t leave her, Mr Chuzzlewit. Thank youas if he were some obscene and filthy animal, repugnant to kindly. I’ll remain here. I haven’t long to remain; it’s no greatthe sight. And here that last black crime was busy with him matter.’too; working within him to his perdition. But for that, the As he meekly shook his poor, grey head, and thanked oldold clerk’s story might have touched him, though never so Martin in these words, Mrs Gamp, now entirely in the room,lightly; but for that, the sudden removal of so great a load was affected to tears.might have brought about some wholesome change even in ‘The mercy as it is!’ she said, ‘as sech a dear, good, reverendhim. With that deed done, however; with that unnecessary creetur never got into the clutches of Betsey Prig, which butwasteful danger haunting him; despair was in his very triumphand relief; wild, ungovernable, raging despair, for the and not easy drove!’for me he would have done, undoubted; facts bein’ stubbornuselessness of the peril into which he had plunged; despair ‘You heard me speak to you just now, old man,’ said Jonasthat hardened him and maddened him, and set his teeth a- to his uncle. ‘I’ll have no more tampering with my people,grinding in a moment of his exultation.man or woman. Do you see the door?’‘My good friend!’ said old Martin, laying his hand on ‘Do you see the door?’ returned the voice of Mark, comingChuffey’s sleeve. ‘This is no place for you to remain in. Come from that direction. ‘Look at it!’with me.’He looked, and his gaze was nailed there. Fatal, ill-omened‘Just his old way!’ cried Chuffey, looking up into his face. ‘I blighted threshold, cursed by his father’s footsteps in his dyingalmost believe it’s Mr Chuzzlewit alive again. Yes! Take me hour, cursed by his young wife’s sorrowing tread, cursed by thewith you! Stay, though, stay.’daily shadow of the old clerk’s figure, cursed by the crossing of‘For what?’ asked old Martin.his murderer’s feet—what men were standing in the door way!779

Martin ChuzzlewitNadgett foremost.Old Martin was the first to speak. ‘What terrible history isHark! It came on, roaring like a sea! Hawkers burst into the this?’ he demanded.street, crying it up and down; windows were thrown open ‘Ask him,’ said Nadgett. ‘You’re his friend, sir. He can tellthat the inhabitants might hear it; people stopped to listen in you, if he will. He knows more of it than I do, though Ithe road and on the pavement; the bells, the same bells, began know much.’to ring; tumbling over one another in a dance of boisterous ‘How do you know much?’joy at the discovery (that was the sound they had in his distemperedthoughts), and making their airy play-ground rock. turned Nadgett. ‘I never watched a man so close as I have‘I have not been watching him so long for nothing,’ re-‘That is the man,’ said Nadgett. ‘By the window!’ watched him.’Three others came in, laid hands upon him, and secured him. Another of the phantom forms of this terrific Truth! Anotherof the many shapes in which it started up about him,It was so quickly done, that he had not lost sight of the informer’sface for an instant when his wrists were manacled together. out of vacancy. This man, of all men in the world, a spy upon‘Murder,’ said Nadgett, looking round on the astonished him; this man, changing his identity; casting off his shrinking,purblind, unobservant character, and springing up into agroup. ‘Let no one interfere.’The sounding street repeated Murder; barbarous and dreadful watchful enemy! The dead man might have come out of hisMurder. Murder, Murder, Murder. Rolling on from house to grave, and not confounded and appalled him more.house, and echoing from stone to stone, until the voices died The game was up. The race was at an end; the rope wasaway into the distant hum, which seemed to mutter the same woven for his neck. If, by a miracle, he could escape from thisword!strait, he had but to turn his face another way, no matterThey all stood silent: listening, and gazing in each other’s where, and there would rise some new avenger front to frontfaces, as the noise passed on.with him; some infant in an hour grown old, or old man in780

Charles Dickensan hour grown young, or blind man with his sight restored, ‘You,’ said the man, ‘among others.’or deaf man with his hearing given him. There was no chance. Martin turned his scrutinizing gaze upon him. He was sittinglazily across a chair with his arms resting on the back;He sank down in a heap against the wall, and never hopedagain from that moment.eating nuts, and throwing the shells out of window as he‘I am not his friend, although I have the honour to be his cracked them, which he still continued to do while speaking.relative,’ said Mr Chuzzlewit. ‘You may speak to me. Where ‘Aye,’ he said, with a sulky nod. ‘You may deny your nephewstill you die; but Chevy Slyme is Chevy Slyme still, all thehave you watched, and what have you seen?’‘I have watched in many places,’ returned Nadgett, ‘night world over. Perhaps even you may feel it some disgrace toand day. I have watched him lately, almost without rest or your own blood to be employed in this way. I’m to be boughtrelief;’ his anxious face and bloodshot eyes confirmed it. ‘I off.’little thought to what my watching was to lead. As little as he ‘At every turn!’ cried Martin. ‘Self, self, self. Every one amongdid when he slipped out in the night, dressed in those clothes them for himself!’which he afterwards sunk in a bundle at London Bridge!’ ‘You had better save one or two among them the troubleJonas moved upon the ground like a man in bodily torture. then and be for them as well as yourself,’ replied his nephew.He uttered a suppressed groan, as if he had been wounded by ‘Look here at me! Can you see the man of your family whosome cruel weapon; and plucked at the iron band upon his has more talent in his little finger than all the rest in theirwrists, as though (his hands being free) he would have torn united brains, dressed as a police officer without beinghimself.ashamed? I took up with this trade on purpose to shame you.‘Steady, kinsman!’ said the chief officer of the party. ‘Don’t I didn’t think I should have to make a capture in the family,be violent.’though.’‘Whom do you call kinsman?’ asked old Martin sternly. ‘If your debauchery, and that of your chosen friends, has781

Martin Chuzzlewitreally brought you to this level,’ returned the old man, ‘keep ‘His or Mr Montague’s,’ said Nadgett. ‘They are the same,it. You are living honestly, I hope, and that’s something.’ I am told. I accuse him yonder of the murder of Mr Montague,‘Don’t be hard upon my chosen friends,’ returned Slyme, who was found last night, killed, in a wood. You will ask me‘for they were sometimes your chosen friends too. Don’t say why I accuse him as you have already asked me how I knowyou never employed my friend Tigg, for I know better. We so much. I’ll tell you. It can’t remain a secret long.’quarrelled upon it.’The ruling passion of the man expressed itself even then, in‘I hired the fellow,’ retorted Mr Chuzzlewit, ‘and I paid the tone of regret in which he deplored the approaching publicityof what he knew.him.’‘It’s well you paid him,’ said his nephew, ‘for it would be ‘I told you I had watched him,’ he proceeded. ‘I was instructedto do so by Mr Montague, in whose employment Itoo late to do so now. He has given his receipt in full; or hadit forced from him rather.’have been for some time. We had our suspicions of him; andThe old man looked at him as if he were curious to know you know what they pointed at, for you have been discussingwhat he meant, but scorned to prolong the conversation. it since we have been waiting here, outside the room. If you‘I have always expected that he and I would be brought care to hear, now it’s all over, in what our suspicions began,together again in the course of business,’ said Slyme, taking a I’ll tell you plainly: in a quarrel (it first came to our earsfresh handful of nuts from his pocket; ‘but I thought he would through a hint of his own) between him and another office inbe wanted for some swindling job; it never entered my head which his father’s life was insured, and which had so muchthat I should hold a warrant for the apprehension of his murderer.’with them, and took half the money; and was glad to do it.doubt and distrust upon the subject, that he compounded‘His murderer!’ cried Mr Chuzzlewit, looking from one to Bit by bit, I ferreted out more circumstances against him, andanother.not a few. It required a little patience, but it’s my calling. I782

Charles Dickensfound the nurse —here she is to confirm me; I found the from that part of the room, leaving him alone upon thedoctor, I found the undertaker, I found the undertaker’s man. ground. Even those who had him in their keeping shunnedI found out how the old gentleman there, Mr Chuffey, had him, and (with the exception of Slyme, who was still occupiedwith his nuts) kept apart.behaved at the funeral; and I found out what this man,’ touchingLewsome on the arm, ‘had talked about in his fever. I ‘From that garret-window opposite,’ said Nadgett, pointingacross the narrow street, ‘I have watched this house andfound out how he conducted himself before his father’s death,and how since and how at the time; and writing it all down, him for days and nights. From that garret-window opposite Iand putting it carefully together, made case enough for Mr saw him return home, alone, from a journey on which he hadMontague to tax him with the crime, which (as he himself set out with Mr Montague. That was my token that Mrbelieved until to-night) he had committed. I was by when Montague’s end was gained; and I might rest easy on my watch,this was done. You see him now. He is only worse than he though I was not to leave it until he dismissed me. But, standingat the door opposite, after dark that same night, I saw awas then.’Oh, miserable, miserable fool! oh, insupportable, excruciatingtorture! To find alive and active—a party to it all—the court, who had never entered it. I knew his walk, and that itcountryman steal out of this house, by a side-door in thebrain and right-hand of the secret he had thought to crush! In was himself, disguised. I followed him immediately. I lostwhom, though he had walled the murdered man up, by enchantmentin a rock, the story would have lived and walked Jonas looked up at him for an instant, and muttered anhim on the western road, still travelling westward.’abroad! He tried to stop his ears with his fettered arms, that oath.he might shut out the rest.‘I could not comprehend what this meant,’ said Nadgett;As he crouched upon the floor, they drew away from him ‘but, having seen so much, I resolved to see it out, andas if a pestilence were in his breath. They fell off, one by one, through. And I did. Learning, on inquiry at his house from783

Martin Chuzzlewithis wife, that he was supposed to be sleeping in the room the murder was received in town last night. The wearer offrom which I had seen him go out, and that he had given that dress is already known to have been seen near the place;strict orders not to be disturbed, I knew that he was coming to have been lurking in that neighbourhood; and to haveback; and for his coming back I watched. I kept my watch in alighted from a coach coming from that part of the country,the street—in doorways, and such places—all that night; at at a time exactly tallying with the very minute when I sawthe same window, all next day; and when night came on again, him returning home. The warrant has been out, and thesein the street once more. For I knew he would come back, as officers have been with me, some hours. We chose our time;he had gone out, when this part of the town was empty. He and seeing you come in, and seeing this person at the window—’did. Early in the morning, the same countryman came creeping,creeping, creeping home.’‘Beckoned to him,’ said Mark, taking up the thread of the‘Look sharp!’ interposed Slyme, who had now finished his narrative, on hearing this allusion to himself, ‘to open thenuts. ‘This is quite irregular, Mr Nadgett.’door; which he did with a deal of pleasure.’‘I kept at the window all day,’ said Nadgett, without heedinghim. ‘I think I never closed my eyes. At night, I saw him pocketbook, which from mere habit he had produced when‘That’s all at present,’ said Nadgett, putting up his greatcome out with a bundle. I followed him again. He went down he began his revelation, and had kept in his hand all the time;the steps at London Bridge, and sunk it in the river. I now ‘but there is plenty more to come. You asked me for the facts,began to entertain some serious fears, and made a communicationto the Police, which caused that bundle to be—’ men any longer. Are you ready, Mr Slyme?’so far I have related them, and need not detain these gentle-‘To be fished up,’ interrupted Slyme. ‘Be alive, Mr Nadgett.’ ‘And something more,’ replied that worthy, rising. ‘If you‘It contained the dress I had seen him wear,’ said Nadgett; walk round to the office, we shall be there as soon as you.‘stained with clay, and spotted with blood. Information of Tom! Get a coach!’784

Charles DickensThe officer to whom he spoke departed for that purpose. ‘Eh?’ said Slyme.Old Martin lingered for a few moments, as if he would have Jonas glanced at the attendant whose back was towards him,addressed some words to Jonas; but looking round, and seeinghim still seated on the floor, rocking himself in a savage the door.and made a clumsy motion with his bound hands towardsmanner to and fro, took Chuffey’s arm, and slowly followed ‘Humph!’ said Slyme, thoughtfully. ‘I couldn’t hope to disgracehim into anything when you have shot so far ahead ofNadgett out. John Westlock and Mark Tapley accompaniedthem. Mrs Gamp had tottered out first, for the better display me though. I forgot that.’of her feelings, in a kind of walking swoon; for Mrs Gamp Jonas repeated the same look and gesture.performed swoons of different sorts, upon a moderate notice,as Mr Mould did Funerals.‘Hallo!’ returned his man.‘Jack!’ said Slyme.‘Ha!’ muttered Slyme, looking after them. ‘Upon my soul! As ‘Go down to the door, ready for the coach. Call out wheninsensible of being disgraced by having such a nephew as myself, it comes. I’d rather have you there. Now then,’ he added,in such a situation, as he was of my being an honour and a credit turning hastily to Jonas, when the man was gone. ‘What’s theto the family! That’s the return I get for having humbled my matter?’spirit—such a spirit as mine—to earn a livelihood, is it?’ Jonas essayed to rise.He got up from his chair, and kicked it away indignantly. ‘Stop a bit,’ said Slyme. ‘It’s not so easy when your wrists‘And such a livelihood too! When there are hundreds of are tight together. Now then! Up! What is it?’men, not fit to hold a candle to me, rolling in carriages and ‘Put your hand in my pocket. Here! The breast pocket, onliving on their fortunes. Upon my soul it’s a nice world!’ the left!’ said Jonas.His eyes encountered Jonas, who looked earnestly towards He did so; and drew out a purse.him, and moved his lips as if he were whispering.‘There’s a hundred pound in it,’ said Jonas, whose words785

Martin Chuzzlewitwere almost unintelligible; as his face, in its pallor and agony, ‘A hundred pound for only five minutes in the next room!was scarcely human.Speak!’ cried Jonas, desperately.Slyme looked at him; gave it into his hands; and shook his He took the purse. Jonas, with a wild unsteady step, retreatedto the door in the glass partition.head.‘I can’t. I daren’t. I couldn’t if I dared. Those fellows below—’ ‘Stop!’ cried Slyme, catching at his skirts. ‘I don’t know‘Escape’s impossible,’ said Jonas. ‘I know it. One hundred about this. Yet it must end so at last. Are you guilty?’pound for only five minutes in the next room!’‘Yes!’ said Jonas.‘What to do?’ he asked.‘Are the proofs as they were told just now?’The face of his prisoner as he advanced to whisper in his ear, ‘Yes!’ said Jonas.made him recoil involuntarily. But he stopped and listened ‘Will you—will you engage to say a—a Prayer, now, orto him. The words were few, but his own face changed as he something of that sort?’ faltered Slyme.heard them.Jonas broke from him without replying, and closed the‘I have it about me,’ said Jonas, putting his hands to his door between them.throat, as though whatever he referred to were hidden in his Slyme listened at the keyhole. After that, he crept away onneckerchief. ‘How should you know of it? How could you tiptoe, as far off as he could; and looked awfully towards theknow? A hundred pound for only five minutes in the next place. He was roused by the arrival of the coach, and theirroom! The time’s passing. Speak!’letting down the steps.‘It would be more—more creditable to the family,’ observedSlyme, with trembling lips. ‘I wish you hadn’t told me window, and speaking to the two men below, who stood in the‘He’s getting a few things together,’ he said, leaning out ofhalf so much. Less would have served your purpose. You might full light of a street-lamp. ‘Keep your eye upon the back, one ofhave kept it to yourself.’you, for form’s sake.’786

Charles DickensOne of the men withdrew into the court. The other, seating It was not easy, he found, to make up his mind to the openinghimself self on the steps of the coach, remained in conversation of the door. But he flung it wide open suddenly, and with a noise;with Slyme at the window who perhaps had risen to be his then retreated. After peeping in and listening again, he entered.superior, in virtue of his old propensity (one so much lauded He started back as his eyes met those of Jonas, standing inby the murdered man) of being always round the corner. A an angle of the wall, and staring at him. His neckerchief wasuseful habit in his present calling.off; his face was ashy pale.‘Where is he?’ asked the man.‘You’re too soon,’ said Jonas, with an abject whimper. ‘I’veSlyme looked into the room for an instant and gave his not had time. I have not been able to do it. I—five minuteshead a jerk as much as to say, ‘Close at hand. I see him.’ more—two minutes more!—only one!’‘He’s booked,’ observed the man.Slyme gave him no reply, but thrusting the purse upon him‘Through,’ said Slyme.and forcing it back into his pocket, called up his men.They looked at each other, and up and down the street. He whined, and cried, and cursed, and entreated them, andThe man on the coach-steps took his hat off, and put it on struggled, and submitted, in the same breath, and had noagain, and whistled a little.power to stand. They got him away and into the coach, where‘I say! He’s taking his time!’ he remonstrated.they put him on a seat; but he soon fell moaning down among‘I allowed him five minutes,’ said Slyme. ‘Time’s more than the straw at the bottom, and lay there.up, though. I’ll bring him down.’The two men were with him. Slyme being on the box withHe withdrew from the window accordingly, and walked the driver; and they let him lie. Happening to pass a fruiterer’son tiptoe to the door in the partition. He listened. There was on their way; the door of which was open, though the shopnot a sound within. He set the candles near it, that they might was by this time shut; one of them remarked how faint theshine through the glass.peaches smelled.787

Martin ChuzzlewitThe other assented at the moment, but presently stooped had been at first by the intelligence conveyed to him throughdown in quick alarm, and looked at the prisoner.Tom Pinch and John Westlock, of the supposed manner of his‘Stop the coach! He has poisoned himself! The smell comes brother’s death; overwhelmed as he was by the subsequent narrativesof Chuffey and Nadgett, and the forging of that chainfrom this bottle in his hand!’The hand had shut upon it tight. With that rigidity of grasp of circumstances ending in the death of Jonas, of which catastrophehe was immediately informed; scattered as his purposeswith which no living man, in the full strength and energy oflife, can clutch a prize he has won.and hopes were for the moment, by the crowding in of allThey dragged him out into the dark street; but jury, judge, these incidents between him and his end; still their very intensityand the tumult of their assemblage nerved him to the rapidand hangman, could have done no more, and could do nothingnow. Dead, dead, dead.and unyielding execution of his scheme. In every single circumstance,whether it were cruel, cowardly, or false, he saw theflowering of the same pregnant seed. Self; grasping, eager, narrow-ranging,overreaching self; with its long train of suspicions,CHAPTER FIFTY-TWOlusts, deceits, and all their growing consequences; was the rootIN WHICH THE TABLES ARE TURNED,of the vile tree. Mr Pecksniff had so presented his characterCOMPLETELY UPSIDE DOWNbefore the old man’s eyes, that he—the good, the tolerant, enduringPecksniff—had become the incarnation of all selfishnessand treachery; and the more odious the shapes in whichOLD MARTIN’S CHERISHED projects, so long hidden in his ownbreast, so frequently in danger of abrupt disclosure through thethose vices ranged themselves before him now, the sterner consolationhe had in his design of setting Mr Pecksniff right andbursting forth of the indignation he had hoarded up during hisresidence with Mr Pecksniff, were retarded, but not beyond aMr Pecksniff’s victims too.few hours, by the occurrences just now related. Stunned, as he788

Charles DickensTo this work he brought, not only the energy and determinationnatural to his character (which, as the reader may have until after they knew of the death of Jonas; when he wenttheir proceedings, and was with them until late at night—observed in the beginning of his or her acquaintance with this home to tell all these wonders to little Ruth, and to preparegentleman, was remarkable for the strong development of her for accompanying him to the Temple in the morning,those qualities), but all the forced and unnaturally nurtured agreeably to Mr Chuzzlewit’s particular injunction.energy consequent upon their long suppression. And these It was characteristic of old Martin, and his looking on totwo tides of resolution setting into one and sweeping on, something which he had distinctly before him, that he communicatedto them nothing of his intentions, beyond such hintsbecame so strong and vigorous, that, to prevent themselvesfrom being carried away before it, Heaven knows where, was of reprisal on Mr Pecksniff as they gathered from the game heas much as John Westlock and Mark Tapley together (though had played in that gentleman’s house, and the brightening ofthey were tolerably energetic too) could manage to effect. his eyes whenever his name was mentioned. Even to JohnHe had sent for John Westlock immediately on his arrival; Westlock, in whom he was evidently disposed to place greatand John, under the conduct of Tom Pinch, had waited on confidence (which may indeed be said of every one of them),him. Having a lively recollection of Mr Tapley, he had caused he gave no explanation whatever. He merely requested him tothat gentleman’s attendance to be secured, through John’s return in the morning; and with this for their utmost satisfaction,they left him, when the night was far advanced, alone.means, without delay; and thus, as we have seen, they had allrepaired together to the City. But his grandson he had refused The events of such a day might have worn out the body andto see until to-morrow, when Mr Tapley was instructed to spirit of a much younger man than he, but he sat in deep andsummon him to the Temple at ten o’clock in the forenoon. painful meditation until the morning was bright. Nor did heTom he would not allow to be employed in anything, lest he even then seek any prolonged repose, but merely slumbered inshould be wrongfully suspected; but he was a party to all his chair, until seven o’clock, when Mr Tapley had appointed789

Martin Chuzzlewitto come to him by his desire; and came—as fresh and clean and ‘But it was precious little, sir,’ retorted Mr Tapley. ‘Therecheerful as the morning itself.was very little respectin’ you that I was able to tell him, sir. I‘You are punctual,’ said Mr Chuzzlewit, opening the door only mentioned my opinion that Mr Pecksniff would findto him in reply to his light knock, which had roused him himself deceived, sir, and that you would find yourself deceived,and that he would find himself deceived, sir.’instantly.‘My wishes, sir,’ replied Mr Tapley, whose mind would ‘In what?’ asked Mr Chuzzlewit.appear from the context to have been running on the matrimonialservice, ‘is to love, honour, and obey. The clock’s a- ‘Meaning both him and me.’‘Meaning him, sir?’striking now, sir.’‘Well, sir,’ said Mr Tapley. ‘In your old opinions of each‘Come in!’other. As to him, sir, and his opinions, I know he’s a altered‘Thank’ee, sir,’ rejoined Mr Tapley, ‘what could I do for man. I know it. I know’d it long afore he spoke to you t’otheryou first, sir?’day, and I must say it. Nobody don’t know half as much of‘You gave my message to Martin?’ said the old man, bendinghis eyes upon him.in him, but a little of it got crusted over, somehow. I can’t sayhim as I do. Nobody can’t. There was always a deal of good‘I did, sir,’ returned Mark; ‘and you never see a gentleman who rolled the paste of that ‘ere crust myself, but—’more surprised in all your born days than he was.’‘Go on,’ said Martin. ‘Why do you stop?’‘What more did you tell him?’ Mr Chuzzlewit inquired. ‘But it—well! I beg your pardon, but I think it may have‘Why, sir,’ said Mr Tapley, smiling, ‘I should have liked to been you, sir. Unintentional I think it may have been you. Itell him a deal more, but not being able, sir, I didn’t tell it don’t believe that neither of you gave the other quite a fairhim.’chance. There! Now I’ve got rid on it,’ said Mr Tapley in a fit‘You told him all you knew?’of desperation: ‘I can’t go a-carryin’ it about in my own mind,790

Charles Dickensbustin’ myself with it; yesterday was quite long enough. It’s ‘You have left him this morning?’out now. I can’t help it. I’m sorry for it. Don’t wisit on him, ‘Come straight from him now, sir.’sir, that’s all.’‘For what does he suppose?’It was clear that Mark expected to be ordered out immediately,and was quite prepared to go.I told him jest wot passed yesterday, sir, and that you had said‘He don’t know what to suppose, sir, no more than myself.‘So you think,’ said Martin, ‘that his old faults are, in some to me, “Can you be here by seven in the morning?” and thatdegree, of my creation, do you?’you had said to him, through me, “Can you be here by ten in‘Well, sir,’ retorted Mr Tapley, ‘I’m werry sorry, but I can’t the morning?” and that I had said “Yes” to both. That’s all,unsay it. It’s hardly fair of you, sir, to make a ignorant man sir.’conwict himself in this way, but I do think so. I am as respectfuldisposed to you, sir, as a man can be; but I do think so.’ ‘Perhaps,’ said Martin, ‘he may think you are going to desertHis frankness was so genuine that it plainly was all.The light of a faint smile seemed to break through the dull him, and to serve me?’steadiness of Martin’s face, as he looked attentively at him, ‘I have served him in that sort of way, sir,’ replied Mark,without replying.without the loss of any atom of his self-possession; ‘and we‘Yet you are an ignorant man, you say,’ he observed after a have been that sort of companions in misfortune, that mylong pause.opinion is, he don’t believe a word on it. No more than you‘Werry much so,’ Mr Tapley replied.do, sir.’‘And I a learned, well-instructed man, you think?’‘Will you help me to dress, and get me some breakfast from‘Likewise wery much so,’ Mr Tapley answered.the hotel?’ asked Martin.The old man, with his chin resting on his hand, paced the ‘With pleasure, sir,’ said Mark.room twice or thrice before he added:‘And by-and-bye,’ said Martin, ‘remaining in the room, as I791

Martin Chuzzlewitwish you to do, will you attend to the door yonder—give and easy to joke to Mark to be a butler in the Temple, as itadmission to visitors, I mean, when they knock?’had been to volunteer as cook on board the Screw), he found‘Certainly, sir,’ said Mr Tapley.it difficult to resist the temptation of casting sidelong glances‘You will not find it necessary to express surprise at their at him very often. Nay, he found it impossible; and accordinglyyielded to this impulse so often, that Martin caughtappearance,’ Martin suggested.‘Oh dear no, sir!’ said Mr Tapley, ‘not at all.’him in the fact some fifty times. The extraordinary things MrAlthough he pledged himself to this with perfect confidence,he was in a state of unbounded astonishment even occurred; the sudden occasions he had to rub his eyes or hisTapley did with his own face when any of these detectionsnow. Martin appeared to observe it, and to have some sense nose or his chin; the look of wisdom with which he immediatelyplunged into the deepest thought, or became intenselyof the ludicrous bearing of Mr Tapley under these perplexingcircumstances; for, in spite of the composure of his voice and interested in the habits and customs of the flies upon thethe gravity of his face, the same indistinct light flickered on ceiling, or the sparrows out of doors; or the overwhelmingthe latter several times. Mark bestirred himself, however, to politeness with which he endeavoured to hide his confusionexecute the offices with which he was entrusted; and soon by handing the muffin; may not unreasonably be assumed tolost all tendency to any outward expression of his surprise, in have exercised the utmost power of feature that even Martinthe occupation of being brisk and busy.Chuzzlewit the elder possessed.But when he had put Mr Chuzzlewit’s clothes in good orderfor dressing, and when that gentleman was dressed and or made a show of doing so, for he scarcely ate or drank, andBut he sat perfectly quiet and took his breakfast at his leisure,sitting at his breakfast, Mr Tapley’s feelings of wonder began frequently lapsed into long intervals of musing. When he hadto return upon him with great violence; and, standing beside finished, Mark sat down to his breakfast at the same table; andthe old man with a napkin under his arm (it was as natural Mr Chuzzlewit, quite silent still, walked up and down the room.792

Charles DickensMark cleared away in due course, and set a chair out for implying thereby that he considered himself in an unsatisfactoryposition. Mr Chuzzlewit received him very courteously.him, in which, as the time drew on towards ten o’clock, hetook his seat, leaning his hands upon his stick, and clenching Mark waited at the door for Tom Pinch and his sister, whothem upon the handle, and resting his chin on them again. were coming up the stairs. The old man went to meet them;All his impatience and abstraction of manner had vanished took their hands in his; and kissed her on the cheek. As thisnow; and as he sat there, looking, with his keen eyes, steadily looked promising, Mr Tapley smiled benignantly.towards the door, Mark could not help thinking what a firm, Mr Chuzzlewit had resumed his chair before young Martin,who was close behind them, entered. The old man, scarcelysquare, powerful face it was; or exulting in the thought thatMr Pecksniff, after playing a pretty long game of bowls with looking at him, pointed to a distant seat. This was less encouraging;and Mr Tapley’s spirits fell again.its owner, seemed to be at last in a very fair way of coming infor a rubber or two.He was quickly summoned to the door by another knock.Mark’s uncertainty in respect of what was going to be done He did not start, or cry, or tumble down, at sight of Missor said, and by whom to whom, would have excited him in Graham and Mrs Lupin, but he drew a very long breath, anditself. But knowing for a certainty besides, that young Martin came back perfectly resigned, looking on them and on thewas coming, and in a very few minutes must arrive, he found rest with an expression which seemed to say that nothing couldit by no means easy to remain quiet and silent. But, excepting surprise him any more; and that he was rather glad to havethat he occasionally coughed in a hollow and unnatural mannerto relieve himself, he behaved with great decorum through The old man received Mary no less tenderly than he haddone with that sensation for ever.the longest ten minutes he had ever known.received Tom Pinch’s sister. A look of friendly recognitionA knock at the door. Mr Westlock. Mr Tapley, in admittinghim, raised his eyebrows to the highest possible pitch, existence of a perfect understanding between them. Itpassed between himself and Mrs Lupin, which implied theengen-793

Martin Chuzzlewitdered no astonishment in Mr Tapley; for, as he afterwards his gratitude. He then looked round on the assembled group,observed, he had retired from the business, and sold off the and shook his head reproachfully. For such a man severely,stock.quite severely.Not the least curious feature in this assemblage was, that ‘Oh, vermin!’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Oh, bloodsuckers! Is it noteverybody present was so much surprised and embarrassed by enough that you have embittered the existence of an individualthe sight of everybody else, that nobody ventured to speak. wholly unparalleled in the biographical records of amiable persons,but must you now, even now, when he has made hisMr Chuzzlewit alone broke silence.‘Set the door open, Mark!’ he said; ‘and come here.’ election, and reposed his trust in a Numble, but at least sincereMark obeyed.and disinterested relative; must you now, vermin and swarmersThe last appointed footstep sounded now upon the stairs. (I regret to make use of these strong expressions, my dear sir,They all knew it. It was Mr Pecksniff’s; and Mr Pecksniff but there are times when honest indignation will not be controlled),must you now, vermin and swarmers (for I will repeatwas in a hurry too, for he came bounding up with such uncommonexpedition that he stumbled twice or thrice. it), take advantage of his unprotected state, assemble round‘Where is my venerable friend?’ he cried upon the upper him from all quarters, as wolves and vultures, and other animalsof the feathered tribe assemble round—I will not say roundlanding; and then with open arms came darting in.Old Martin merely looked at him; but Mr Pecksniff started carrion or a carcass, for Mr Chuzzlewit is quite the contrary—back as if he had received the charge from an electric battery. but round their prey; their prey; to rifle and despoil; gorging‘My venerable friend is well?’ cried Mr Pecksniff. their voracious maws, and staining their offensive beaks, with‘Quite well.’every description of carnivorous enjoyment!’It seemed to reassure the anxious inquirer. He clasped his As he stopped to fetch his breath, he waved them off, in ahands and, looking upwards with a pious joy, silently expressed solemn manner, with his hand.794

Charles Dickens‘Horde of unnatural plunderers and robbers!’ he continued;‘leave him! leave him, I say! Begone! Abscond! You had as heavily and true as if the charge of a Life-Guardsman hadWith such a well-directed nervous blow, that down he went,better be off! Wander over the face of the earth, young sirs, tumbled him out of a saddle. And whether he was stunnedlike vagabonds as you are, and do not presume to remain in a by the shock, or only confused by the wonder and novelty ofspot which is hallowed by the grey hairs of the patriarchal this warm reception, he did not offer to get up again; but laygentleman to whose tottering limbs I have the honour to act there, looking about him with a disconcerted meekness in hisas an unworthy, but I hope an unassuming, prop and staff. face so enormously ridiculous, that neither Mark Tapley norAnd you, my tender sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, addressing himselfin a tone of gentle remonstrance to the old man, ‘how tively interposing to prevent a repetition of the blow; whichJohn Westlock could repress a smile, though both were ac-could you ever leave me, though even for this short period! the old man’s gleaming eyes and vigorous attitude seemed toYou have absented yourself, I do not doubt, upon some act of render one of the most probable events in the world.kindness to me; bless you for it; but you must not do it; you ‘Drag him away! Take him out of my reach!’ said Martin;must not be so venturesome. I should really be angry with ‘or I can’t help it. The strong restraint I have put upon myyou if I could, my friend!’hands has been enough to palsy them. I am not master ofHe advanced with outstretched arms to take the old man’s myself while he is within their range. Drag him away!’hand. But he had not seen how the hand clasped and clutched Seeing that he still did not rise, Mr Tapley, without anythe stick within its grasp. As he came smiling on, and got compromise about it, actually did drag him away, and stickwithin his reach, old Martin, with his burning indignation him up on the floor, with his back against the opposite wall.crowded into one vehement burst, and flashing out of every ‘Hear me, rascal!’ said Mr Chuzzlewit. ‘I have summonedline and wrinkle in his face, rose up, and struck him down you here to witness your own work. I have summoned youupon the ground.here to witness it, because I know it will be gall and worm-795

Martin Chuzzlewitwood to you! I have summoned you here to witness it, because ‘The curse of our house,’ said the old man, looking kindlyI know the sight of everybody here must be a dagger in your down upon her, ‘has been the love of self; has ever been themean, false heart! What! do you know me as I am, at last!’ love of self. How often have I said so, when I never knew thatMr Pecksniff had cause to stare at him, for the triumph in I had wrought it upon others.’his face and speech and figure was a sight to stare at.He drew one hand through Martin’s arm, and standing so,‘Look there!’ said the old man, pointing at him, and appealingto the rest. ‘Look there! And then—come hither, my ‘You all know how I bred this orphan up, to tend me. Nonebetween them, proceeded thus:dear Martin—look here! here! here!’ At every repetition of of you can know by what degrees I have come to regard her asthe word he pressed his grandson closer to his breast. a daughter; for she has won upon me, by her self-forgetfulness,her tenderness, her patience, all the goodness of her na-‘The passion I felt, Martin, when I dared not do this,’ hesaid, ‘was in the blow I struck just now. Why did we ever ture, when Heaven is her witness that I took but little painspart! How could we ever part! How could you ever fly from to draw it forth. It blossomed without cultivation, and itme to him!’ripened without heat. I cannot find it in my heart to say thatMartin was about to answer, but he stopped him, and went I am sorry for it now, or yonder fellow might be holding upon.his head.’‘The fault was mine no less than yours. Mark has told me Mr Pecksniff put his hand into his waistcoat, and slightlyso today, and I have known it long; though not so long as I shook that part of him to which allusion had been made; as ifmight have done. Mary, my love, come here.’to signify that it was still uppermost.As she trembled and was very pale, he sat her in his own ‘There is a kind of selfishness,’ said Martin—‘I have learnedchair, and stood beside it with her hand in his; and Martin it in my own experience of my own breast—which is constantlyupon the watch for selfishness in others; and standing by him.holding796

Charles Dickensothers at a distance, by suspicions and distrusts, wonders why ‘Observe!’ said Martin, looking round. ‘I put myself in thatthey don’t approach, and don’t confide, and calls that selfishnessin them. Thus I once doubted those about me—not himself, as I could render them in words. I stated them atman’s hands on terms as mean and base, and as degrading towithout reason in the beginning—and thus I once doubted length to him, before his own children, syllable by syllable, asyou, Martin.’coarsely as I could, and with as much offence, and with as‘Not without reason,’ Martin answered, ‘either.’plain an exposition of my contempt, as words—not looks‘Listen, hypocrite! Listen, smooth-tongued, servile, crawlingknave!’ said Martin. ‘Listen, you shallow dog. What! When angry blood into his face, I would have wavered in my pur-and manner merely—could convey. If I had only called theI was seeking him, you had already spread your nets; you pose. If I had only stung him into being a man for a minute Iwere already fishing for him, were ye? When I lay ill in this would have abandoned it. If he had offered me one word ofgood woman’s house and your meek spirit pleaded for my remonstrance, in favour of the grandson whom he supposedgrandson, you had already caught him, had ye? Counting on I had disinherited; if he had pleaded with me, though neverthe restoration of the love you knew I bore him, you designedhim for one of your two daughters did ye? Or failing ery and cast him from his house; I think I could have borneso faintly, against my appeal to him to abandon him to mis-that, you traded in him as a speculation which at any rate with him for ever afterwards. But not a word, not a word.should blind me with the lustre of your charity, and found a Pandering to the worst of human passions was the office ofclaim upon me! Why, even then I knew you, and I told you his nature; and faithfully he did his work!’so. Did I tell you that I knew you, even then?’‘I am not angry,’ observed Mr Pecksniff. ‘I am hurt, Mr‘I am not angry, sir,’ said Mr Pecksniff, softly. ‘I can bear a Chuzzlewit; wounded in my feelings; but I am not angry, mygreat deal from you. I will never contradict you, Mr good sir.’Chuzzlewit.’Mr Chuzzlewit resumed.797

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Once resolved to try him, I was resolute to pursue the trial him, knave; and knew no better way of opening his eyes thanto the end; but while I was bent on fathoming the depth of by presenting you before him in your own servile character.his duplicity, I made a sacred compact with myself that I would Yes. I did express that desire. And you leaped to meet it; andgive him credit on the other side for any latent spark of goodness,honour, forbearance—any virtue—that might glimmer licked and beslavered, as only such hounds can, you strength-you met it; and turning in an instant on the hand you hadin him. For first to last there has been no such thing. Not ened, and confirmed, and justified me in my scheme.’once. He cannot say I have not given him opportunity. He Mr Pecksniff made a bow; a submissive, not to say a grovellingand an abject bow. If he had been complimented on hiscannot say I have ever led him on. He cannot say I have notleft him freely to himself in all things; or that I have not been practice of the loftiest virtues, he never could have bowed asa passive instrument in his hands, which he might have used he bowed then.for good as easily as evil. Or if he can, he Lies! And that’s his ‘The wretched man who has been murdered,’ Mrnature, too.’Chuzzlewit went on to say; ‘then passing by the name of—’‘Mr Chuzzlewit,’ interrupted Pecksniff, shedding tears. ‘I ‘Tigg,’ suggested Mark.am not angry, sir. I cannot be angry with you. But did you ‘Of Tigg; brought begging messages to me on behalf of anever, my dear sir, express a desire that the unnatural young friend of his, and an unworthy relative of mine; and findingman who by his wicked arts has estranged your good opinion him a man well enough suited to my purpose, I employedfrom me, for the time being; only for the time being; that him to glean some news of you, Martin, for me. It was fromyour grandson, Mr Chuzzlewit, should be dismissed my him I learned that you had taken up your abode with yonderhouse? Recollect yourself, my Christian friend.’fellow. It was he, who meeting you here in town, one‘I have said so, have I not?’ retorted the old man, sternly. ‘I evening—you remember where?’could not tell how far your specious hypocrisy had deceived ‘At the pawnbroker’s shop,’ said Martin.798

Charles Dickens‘Yes; watched you to your lodging, and enabled me to send ‘Beggin’ your pardon, sir,’ said Mr Tapley, who had Mrsyou a bank-note.’Lupin on his arm by this time, quite agreeably; ‘if I may make‘I little thought,’ said Martin, greatly moved, ‘that it had so bold as say so, my opinion is, as you was quite correct, andcome from you; I little thought that you were interested in that he turned out perfectly nat’ral for all that. There’s surprisin’my fate. If I had—’number of men sir, who as long as they’ve only got their own‘If you had,’ returned the old man, sorrowfully, ‘you would shoes and stockings to depend upon, will walk down hill,have shown less knowledge of me as I seemed to be, and as I along the gutters quiet enough and by themselves, and not doreally was. I hoped to bring you back, Martin, penitent and much harm. But set any on ‘em up with a coach and horses,humbled. I hoped to distress you into coming back to me. Much sir; and it’s wonderful what a knowledge of drivin’ he’ll show,as I loved you, I had that to acknowledge which I could not and how he’ll fill his wehicle with passengers, and start off inreconcile it to myself to avow, then, unless you made submission the middle of the road, neck or nothing, to the Devil! Blessto me first. Thus it was I lost you. If I have had, indirectly, any your heart, sir, there’s ever so many Tiggs a-passin’ this hereact or part in the fate of that unhappy man, by putting means, Temple-gate any hour in the day, that only want a chance tohowever small, within his reach, Heaven forgive me! I might turn out full-blown Montagues every one!’have known, perhaps, that he would misuse money; that it was ‘Your ignorance, as you call it, Mark,’ said Mr Chuzzlewit,ill-bestowed upon him; and that sown by his hands it could ‘is wiser than some men’s enlightenment, and mine amongengender mischief only. But I never thought of him at that time them. You are right; not for the first time to-day. Now hearas having the disposition or ability to be a serious impostor, or me out, my dears. And hear me, you, who, if what I haveotherwise than as a thoughtless, idle-humoured, dissipated spendthrift,sinning more against himself than others, and frequenting than in good name! And when you have heard me, leave thisbeen told be accurately stated, are Bankrupt in pocket no lesslow haunts and indulging vicious tastes, to his own ruin only.’ place, and poison my sight no more!’799

Martin ChuzzlewitMr Pecksniff laid his hand upon his breast, and bowed again. establishing a claim on their affection and regard which nothingshould wither, and which should surround his old age‘The penance I have done in this house,’ said Mr Chuzzlewit,‘has earned this reflection with it constantly, above all others. with means of happiness. How in the first dawn of this design,and when the pleasure of such a scheme for the happi-That if it had pleased Heaven to visit such infirmity on myold age as really had reduced me to the state in which I feigned ness of others was new and indistinct within him, Martin hadto be, I should have brought its misery upon myself. Oh, you come to tell him that he had already chosen for himself; knowingthat he, the old man, had some faint project on that head,whose wealth, like mine, has been a source of continual unhappiness,leading you to distrust the nearest and dearest, and but ignorant whom it concerned. How it was little comfortto dig yourself a living grave of suspicion and reserve; take to him to know that Martin had chosen Her, because theheed that, having cast off all whom you might have bound to grace of his design was lost, and because finding that she hadyou, and tenderly, you do not become in your decay the instrumentof such a man as this, and waken in another world they, so young, to whom he had been so kind a benefactor,returned his love, he tortured himself with the reflection thatto the knowledge of such wrong as would embitter Heaven were already like the world, and bent on their own selfish,itself, if wrong or you could ever reach it!’stealthy ends. How in the bitterness of this impression, andAnd then he told them how he had sometimes thought, in of his past experience, he had reproached Martin so harshlythe beginning, that love might grow up between Mary and (forgetting that he had never invited his confidence on such aMartin; and how he had pleased his fancy with the picture of point, and confounding what he had meant to do with whatobserving it when it was new, and taking them to task, apart, he had done), that high words sprung up between them, andin counterfeited doubt, and then confessing to them that it they separated in wrath. How he loved him still, and hopedhad been an object dear to his heart; and by his sympathy he would return. How on the night of his illness at the Dragon,with them, and generous provision for their young fortunes, he had secretly written tenderly of him, and made him his800

Charles Dickensheir, and sanctioned his marriage with Mary; and how, after him to be a friend to Tom, he had used, through his confidentialagent and solicitor, that little artifice which had kept him inhis interview with Mr Pecksniff, he had distrusted him again,and burnt the paper to ashes, and had lain down in his bed readiness to receive his unknown friend in London. And hedistracted by suspicions, doubts, and regrets.called on Mr Pecksniff (by the name of Scoundrel) to rememberthat there again he had not trapped him to do evil, but thatAnd then he told them how, resolved to probe this Pecksniff,and to prove the constancy and truth of Mary (to himself no he had done it of his own free will and agency; nay, that he hadless than Martin), he had conceived and entered on his plan; cautioned him against it. And once again he called on Mrand how, beneath her gentleness and patience, he had softened Pecksniff (by the name of Hang-dog) to remember that whenmore and more; still more and more beneath the goodness and Martin coming home at last, an altered man, had sued for thesimplicity, the honour and the manly faith of Tom. And when forgiveness which awaited him, he, Pecksniff, had rejected himhe spoke of Tom, he said God bless him; and the tears were in in language of his own, and had remorsely stepped in betweenhis eyes; for he said that Tom, mistrusted and disliked by him him and the least touch of natural tenderness. ‘For which,’ saidat first, had come like summer rain upon his heart; and had the old man, ‘if the bending of my finger would remove adisposed it to believe in better things. And Martin took him by halter from your neck, I wouldn’t bend it!’the hand, and Mary too, and John, his old friend, stoutly too; ‘Martin,’ he added, ‘your rival has not been a dangerousand Mark, and Mrs Lupin, and his sister, little Ruth. And peace one, but Mrs Lupin here has played duenna for some weeks;of mind, deep, tranquil peace of mind, was in Tom’s heart. not so much to watch your love as to watch her lover. ForThe old man then related how nobly Mr Pecksniff had performedthe duty in which he stood indebted to society, in the was astonishing—’would have crawled into her daily walksthat Ghoul’—his fertility in finding names for Mr Pecksniffmatter of Tom’s dismissal; and how, having often heard disparagementof Mr Westlock from Pecksniffian lips, and knowing trembling strangely. See if you can holdotherwise, and polluted the fresh air. What’s this? Her hand isit.’801

Martin ChuzzlewitHold it! If he clasped it half as tightly as he did her waist. ‘That depends upon the lady. What is her opinion?’Well, well!‘Why, sir,’ said Mr Tapley, retiring, with a bow, towards theBut it was good in him that even then, in his high fortune buxom hostess, ‘her opinion is as the name ain’t a change forand happiness, with her lips nearly printed on his own, and the better, but the indiwidual may be, and, therefore, if nobodyain’t acquainted with no jest cause or impediment, ether proud young beauty in his close embrace, he had a handstill left to stretch out to Tom Pinch.cetrer, the Blue Dragon will be con-werted into the Jolly‘Oh, Tom! Dear Tom! I saw you, accidentally, coming here. Tapley. A sign of my own inwention, sir. Wery new, conwivial,Forgive me!’and expressive!’‘Forgive!’ cried Tom. ‘I’ll never forgive you as long as I live, The whole of these proceedings were so agreeable to MrMartin, if you say another syllable about it. Joy to you both! Pecksniff that he stood with his eyes fixed upon the floor andJoy, my dear fellow, fifty thousand times.’his hands clasping one another alternately, as if a host of penalJoy! There is not a blessing on earth that Tom did not wish sentences were being passed upon him. Not only did his figureappear to have shrunk, but his discomfiture seemed tothem. There is not a blessing on earth that Tom would nothave bestowed upon them, if he could.have extended itself even to his dress. His clothes seemed to‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ said Mr Tapley, stepping forward, ‘but have grown shabbier, his linen to have turned yellow, his hairyow was mentionin’, just now, a lady of the name of Lupin, sir.’ to have become lank and frowsy; his very boots looked‘I was,’ returned old Martinvillanous and dim, as if their gloss had departed with his own.‘Yes, sir. It’s a pretty name, sir?’Feeling, rather than seeing, that the old man now pointed‘A very good name,’ said Martin.to the door, he raised his eyes, picked up his hat, and thus‘It seems a’most a pity to change such a name into Tapley. addressed him:Don’t it, sir?’ said Mark.‘Mr Chuzzlewit, sir! you have partaken of my hospitality.’802

Charles Dickens‘And paid for it,’ he observed.Mr Pecksniff was not so absolutely lost in his own fervour as‘Thank you. That savours,’ said Mr Pecksniff, taking out to be unmindful of the expediency of getting a little nearer tohis pocket-handkerchief, ‘of your old familiar frankness. You the door.have paid for it. I was about to make the remark. You have ‘I have been struck this day,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘with a walkingstick (which I have every reason to believe has knobs upondeceived me, sir. Thank you again. I am glad of it. To see youin the possession of your health and faculties on any terms, is, it), on that delicate and exquisite portion of the humanin itself, a sufficient recompense. To have been deceived impliesa trusting nature. Mine is a trusting nature. I am thank-without a walking-stick, upon that tenderer portion of myanatomy—the brain. Several blows have been inflicted, sir,ful for it. I would rather have a trusting nature, do you know, frame—my heart. You have mentioned, sir, my being bankruptin my purse. Yes, sir, I am. By an unfortunate specula-sir, than a doubting one!’Here Mr Pecksniff, with a sad smile, bowed, and wiped his tion, combined with treachery, I find myself reduced to poverty;at a time, sir, when the child of my bosom is widowed,eyes.‘There is hardly any person present, Mr Chuzzlewit,’ said and affliction and disgrace are in my family.’Pecksniff, ‘by whom I have not been deceived. I have forgiventhose persons on the spot. That was my duty; and, of two or three little knocks upon the breast, as if he were an-Here Mr Pecksniff wiped his eyes again, and gave himselfcourse, I have done it. Whether it was worthy of you to partakeof my hospitality, and to act the part you did act in my by the tinkling hammer of his conscience, to express ‘Cheerswering two or three other little knocks from within, givenhouse, that, sir, is a question which I leave to your own conscience.And your conscience does not acquit you. No, sir, ‘I know the human mind, although I trust it. That is myup, my boy!’no!’weakness. Do I not know, sir’—here he became exceedinglyPronouncing these last words in a loud and solemn voice, plaintive and was observed to glance towards Tom Pinch—803

Martin Chuzzlewit’that my misfortunes bring this treatment on me? Do I not With this sublime address, Mr Pecksniff departed. But theknow, sir, that but for them I never should have heard what I effect of his departure was much impaired by his being immediatelyafterwards run against, and nearly knocked down,have heard to-day? Do I not know that in the silence and thesolitude of night, a little voice will whisper in your ear, Mr by a monstrously excited little man in velveteen shorts and aChuzzlewit, “This was not well. This was not well, sir!” Think very tall hat; who came bursting up the stairs, and straightof this, sir (if you will have the goodness), remote from the into the chambers of Mr Chuzzlewit, as if he were deranged.impulses of passion, and apart from the specialities, if I may ‘Is there anybody here that knows him?’ cried the little man.use that strong remark, of prejudice. And if you ever contemplatethe silent tomb, sir, which you will excuse me for enter-anybody here that knows him?’‘Is there anybody here that knows him? Oh, my stars, is theretaining some doubt of your doing, after the conduct into They looked at each other for an explanation; but nobodywhich you have allowed yourself to be betrayed this day; if knew anything more than that here was an excited little manyou ever contemplate the silent tomb sir, think of me. If you with a very tall hat on, running in and out of the room asfind yourself approaching to the silent tomb, sir, think of hard as he could go; making his single pair of bright blueme. If you should wish to have anything inscribed upon your stockings appear at least a dozen; and constantly repeating insilent tomb, sir, let it be, that I—ah, my remorseful sir! that a shrill voice, ‘IS there anybody here that knows him?’I—the humble individual who has now the honour of reproachingyou, forgave you. That I forgave you when my exclaimed another voice, ‘hold that there nige of yourn, I beg‘If your brains is not turned topjy turjey, Mr Sweedlepipes!’injuries were fresh, and when my bosom was newly wrung. It you, sir.’may be bitterness to you to hear it now, sir, but you will live At the same time Mrs Gamp was seen in the doorway; outto seek a consolation in it. May you find a consolation in it of breath from coming up so many stairs, and panting fearfully;but dropping curtseys to the when you want it, sir! Good morning!’last.804

Charles Dickens‘Excuge the weakness of the man,’ said Mrs Gamp, eyeing no more dead than I am. He’s all alive and hearty. Aint you,Mr Sweedlepipe with great indignation; ‘and well I might Bailey?’expect it, as I should have know’d, and wishin’ he was ‘R—r—reether so, Poll!’ replied that gentleman.drownded in the Thames afore I had brought him here, which ‘Look here!’ cried the little barber, laughing and crying innot a blessed hour ago he nearly shaved the noge off from the the same breath. ‘When I steady him he comes all right. There!father of as lovely a family as ever, Mr Chuzzlewit, was born He’s all right now. Nothing’s the matter with him now, exceptthat he’s a little shook and rather giddy; is there, Bailey?’three sets of twins, and would have done it, only he see it a-goin’ in the glass, and dodged the rager. And never, Mr ‘R—r—reether shook, Poll—reether so!’ said Mr Bailey.Sweedlepipes, I do assure you, sir, did I so well know what a ‘What, my lovely Sairey! There you air!’misfortun it was to be acquainted with you, as now I do, ‘What a boy he is!’ cried the tender-hearted Poll, actuallywhich so I say, sir, and I don’t deceive you!’sobbing over him. ‘I never see sech a boy! It’s all his fun. He’s‘I ask your pardon, ladies and gentlemen all,’ cried the little full of it. He shall go into the business along with me. I ambarber, taking off his hat, ‘and yours too, Mrs Gamp. But— determined he shall. We’ll make it Sweedlepipe and Bailey.but,’ he added this half laughing and half crying, ‘IS there He shall have the sporting branch (what a one he’ll be for theanybody here that knows him?’matches!) and me the shavin’. I’ll make over the birds to himAs the barber said these words, a something in top-boots, as soon as ever he’s well enough. He shall have the little bullfinchin the shop, and all. He’s sech a boy! I ask your pardon,with its head bandaged up, staggered into the room, and begangoing round and round and round, apparently under the ladies and gentlemen, but I thought there might be some oneimpression that it was walking straight forward.here that know’d him!’‘Look at him!’ cried the excited little barber. ‘Here he is! Mrs Gamp had observed, not without jealousy and scorn,That’ll soon wear off, and then he’ll be all right again. He’s that a favourable impression appeared to exist in behalf of Mr805

Martin ChuzzlewitSweedlepipe and his young friend; and that she had fallen ‘I paid her, sir,’ returned Mark Tapley; ‘liberal.’rather into the background in consequence. She now struggled ‘The young man’s words is true,’ said Mrs Gamp, ‘andto the front, therefore, and stated her business.thank you kindly.’‘Which, Mr Chuzzlewit,’ she said, ‘is well beknown to Mrs ‘Then here we will close our acquaintance, Mrs Gamp,’Harris as has one sweet infant (though she do not wish it retorted Mr Chuzzlewit. ‘And Mr Sweedlepipe—is that yourknown) in her own family by the mother’s side, kep in spirits name?’in a bottle; and that sweet babe she see at Greenwich Fair, a- ‘That is my name, sir,’ replied Poll, accepting with a profusionof gratitude, some chinking pieces which the old mantravelling in company with a pink-eyed lady, Prooshan dwarf,and livin’ skelinton, which judge her feelings when the barrel slipped into his hand.organ played, and she was showed her own dear sister’s child, ‘Mr Sweedlepipe, take as much care of your lady-lodger asthe same not bein’ expected from the outside picter, where it you can, and give her a word or two of good advice now andwas painted quite contrairy in a livin’ state, a many sizes larger, then. Such,’ said old Martin, looking gravely at the astonishedMrs Gamp, ‘as hinting at the expediency of a little lessand performing beautiful upon the Arp, which never did thatdear child know or do; since breathe it never did, to speak on liquor, and a little more humanity, and a little less regard forin this wale! And Mrs Harris, Mr Chuzzlewit, has knowed herself, and a little more regard for her patients, and perhaps ame many year, and can give you information that the lady trifle of additional honesty. Or when Mrs Gamp gets intowhich is widdered can’t do better and may do worse, than let trouble, Mr Sweedlepipe, it had better not be at a time whenme wait upon her, which I hope to do. Permittin’ the sweet I am near enough to the Old Bailey to volunteer myself as afaces as I see afore me.’witness to her character. Endeavour to impress that upon her‘Oh!’ said Mr Chuzzlewit. ‘Is that your business? Was this at your leisure, if you please.’good person paid for the trouble we gave her?’Mrs Gamp clasped her hands, turned up her eyes until they806

Charles Dickenswere quite invisible, threw back her bonnet for the admission Why, of course he would: what else had Mr Westlock in hisof fresh air to her heated brow; and in the act of saying mind? How dull these old men are!faintly—’Less liquor!—Sairey Gamp—Bottle on the chimney-piece,and let me put my lips to it, when I am so Engagement! As if he could have any engagement!‘You are sure you have no engagement?’ he persisted.dispoged!’—fell into one of the walking swoons; in which So they went off arm-in-arm. When Tom and Mr Chuzzlewitpitiable state she was conducted forth by Mr Sweedlepipe, went off arm-in-arm a few minutes after them, the latter waswho, between his two patients, the swooning Mrs Gamp and still smiling; and really, for a gentleman of his habits, in ratherthe revolving Bailey, had enough to do, poor fellow. a knowing manner.The old man looked about him, with a smile, until his eyesrested on Tom Pinch’s sister; when he smiled the more.CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE‘We will all dine here together,’ he said; ‘and as you andMary have enough to talk of, Martin, you shall keep houseWHAT JOHN WESTLOCK SAID TO TOMfor us until the afternoon, with Mr and Mrs Tapley. I mustPINCH’S SISTER; WHAT TOM PINCH’Ssee your lodgings in the meanwhile, Tom.’SISTER SAID TO JOHN WESTLOCK;Tom was quite delighted. So was Ruth. She would go with them.WHAT TOM PINCH SAID TO BOTH OF‘Thank you, my love,’ said Mr Chuzzlewit. ‘But I am afraidTHEM; AND HOW THEY ALL PASSEDI must take Tom a little out of the way, on business. SupposeTHE REMAINDER OF THE DAYyou go on first, my dear?’Pretty little Ruth was equally delighted to do that.BRILLIANTLY THE TEMPLE FOUNTAIN sparkled in the sun, and‘But not alone,’ said Martin, ‘not alone. Mr Westlock, Ilaughingly its liquid music played, and merrily the idle dropsdare say, will escort you.’of water danced and danced, and peeping out in sport among807

Martin Chuzzlewitthe trees, plunged lightly down to hide themselves, as little est part of all; because there is nothing naturally confusing inRuth and her companion came toward it.a Fountain. We all know that.And why they came toward the Fountain at all is a mystery; What a good old place it was! John said. With quite anfor they had no business there. It was not in their way. It was earnest affection for itquite out of their way. They had no more to do with the ‘A pleasant place indeed,’ said little Ruth. ‘So shady!’Fountain, bless you, than they had with—with Love, or any Oh wicked little Ruth!out-of-the-way thing of that sort.They came to a stop when John began to praise it. The dayIt was all very well for Tom and his sister to make appointmentsby the Fountain, but that was quite another affair. Beingcould be more so—that they should glance down Gardenwas exquisite; and stopping at all, it was quite natural—nothcause,of course, when she had to wait a minute or two, it Court; because Garden Court ends in the Garden, and thewould have been very awkward for her to have had to wait in Garden ends in the River, and that glimpse is very bright andany but a tolerably quiet spot; but that was as quiet a spot, fresh and shining on a summer’s day. Then, oh, little Ruth,everything considered, as they could choose. But when she why not look boldly at it! Why fit that tiny, precious, blessedhad John Westlock to take care of her, and was going home little foot into the cracked corner of an insensible old flagstonein the pavement; and be so very anxious to adjust it towith her arm in his (home being in a different direction altogether),their coming anywhere near that Fountain was quite a nicety!extraordinary.If the Fiery-faced matron in the crunched bonnet could haveHowever, there they found themselves. And another extraordinarypart of the matter was, that they seemed to have might Fiery Face have been disposed to take for her situationseen them as they walked away, how many years’ purchasecome there, by a silent understanding. Yet when they got there, in Furnival’s Inn as laundress to Mr Westlock!they were a little confused by being there, which was the strang-They went away, but not through London’s streets! Through808

Charles Dickenssome enchanted city, where the pavements were of air; where They talked, of course. They talked of Tom, and all theseall the rough sounds of a stirring town were softened into changes and the attachment Mr Chuzzlewit had conceivedgentle music; where everything was happy; where there was for him, and the bright prospects he had in such a friend, andno distance, and no time. There were two good-tempered a great deal more to the same purpose. The more they talked,burly draymen letting down big butts of beer into a cellar, the more afraid this fluttering little Ruth became of any pause;somewhere; and when John helped her—almost lifted her— and sooner than have a pause she would say the same thingsthe lightest, easiest, neatest thing you ever saw—across the over again; and if she hadn’t courage or presence of mindrope, they said he owed them a good turn for giving him the enough for that (to say the truth she very seldom had), shechance. Celestial draymen!was ten thousand times more charming and irresistible thanGreen pastures in the summer tide, deep-littered straw yards she had been before.in the winter, no start of corn and clover, ever, to that noble ‘Martin will be married very soon now, I suppose?’ saidhorse who would dance on the pavement with a gig behind John.him, and who frightened her, and made her clasp his arm She supposed he would. Never did a bewitching littlewith both hands (both hands meeting one upon the another woman suppose anything in such a faint voice as Ruth supposedthat.so endearingly!), and caused her to implore him to take refugein the pastry-cook’s, and afterwards to peep out at the But seeing that another of those alarming pauses was approaching,she remarked that he would have a beautiful wife.door so shrinkingly; and then, looking at him with thoseeyes, to ask him was he sure—now was he sure—they might Didn’t Mr Westlock think so?go safely on! Oh for a string of rampant horses! For a lion, for ‘Ye—yes,’ said John, ‘oh, yes.’a bear, for a mad bull, for anything to bring the little hands She feared he was rather hard to please, he spoke so coldly.together on his arm again!‘Rather say already pleased,’ said John. ‘I have scarcely seen809

Martin Chuzzlewither. I had no care to see her. I had no eyes for her, this morning.’not painful or distressing to you, you make me happier than‘My dear love! If this is—I almost dare to hope it is, now—Oh, good gracious!I can tell, or you imagine. Darling Ruth! My own good, gentle,It was well they had reached their destination. She never winning Ruth! I hope I know the value of your heart, I hopecould have gone any further. It would have been impossible I know the worth of your angel nature. Let me try and showto walk in such a tremble.you that I do; and you will make me happier, Ruth—’Tom had not come in. They entered the triangular parlour ‘Not happier,’ she sobbed, ‘than you make me. No one cantogether, and alone. Fiery Face, Fiery Face, how many years’ be happier, John, than you make me!’purchase now!Fiery Face, provide yourself! The usual wages or the usualShe sat down on the little sofa, and untied her bonnet-strings. warning. It’s all over, Fiery Face. We needn’t trouble you anyHe sat down by her side, and very near her; very, very near her. further.Oh rapid, swelling, bursting little heart, you knew that it would The little hands could meet each other now, without a rampanthorse to urge them. There was no occasion for lions,come to this, and hoped it would. Why beat so wildly, heart!‘Dear Ruth! Sweet Ruth! If I had loved you less, I could bears, or mad bulls. It could all be done, and infinitely better,have told you that I loved you, long ago. I have loved you without their assistance. No burly drayman or big butts offrom the first. There never was a creature in the world more beer, were wanted for apologies. No apology at all was wanted.truly loved than you, dear Ruth, by me!’The soft light touch fell coyly, but quite naturally, upon theShe clasped her little hands before her face. The gushing tears lover’s shoulder; the delicate waist, the drooping head, theof joy, and pride, and hope, and innocent affection, would not blushing cheek, the beautiful eyes, the exquisite mouth itself,be restrained. Fresh from her full young heart they came to were all as natural as possible. If all the horses in Araby hadanswer him.run away at once, they couldn’t have improved upon it.810

Charles DickensThey soon began to talk of Tom again.‘Tom will be so happy, and so proud, and glad,’ she said,‘I hope he will be glad to hear of it!’ said John, with sparklingeyes.never thought of such a thing.’clasping her little hands. ‘But so surprised! I am sure he hadRuth drew the little hands a little tighter when he said it, Of course John asked her immediately—because you knowand looked up seriously into his face.they were in that foolish state when great allowances must be‘I am never to leave him, AM I, dear? I could never leave made—when she had begun to think of such a thing, and thisTom. I am sure you know that.’made a little diversion in their talk; a charming diversion to‘Do you think I would ask you?’ he returned, with a— them, but not so interesting to us; at the end of which, theywell! Never mind with what.came back to Tom again.‘I am sure you never would,’ she answered, the bright tears ‘Ah! dear Tom!’ said Ruth. ‘I suppose I ought to tell youstanding in her eyes.everything now. I should have no secrets from you. Should I,‘And I will swear it, Ruth, my darling, if you please. Leave John, love?’Tom! That would be a strange beginning. Leave Tom, dear! If It is of no use saying how that preposterous John answeredTom and we be not inseparable, and Tom (God bless him) her, because he answered in a manner which is untranslatablehave not all honour and all love in our home, my little wife, on paper though highly satisfactory in itself. But what hemay that home never be! And that’s a strong oath, Ruth.’ conveyed was, No no no, sweet Ruth; or something to thatShall it be recorded how she thanked him? Yes, it shall. In effect.all simplicity and innocence and purity of heart, yet with a Then she told him Tom’s great secret; not exactly sayingtimid, graceful, half-determined hesitation, she set a little rosy how she had found it out, but leaving him to understand it ifseal upon the vow, whose colour was reflected in her face, and he liked; and John was sadly grieved to hear it, and was full offlashed up to the braiding of her dark brown hair.sympathy and sorrow. But they would try, he said, only the811

Martin Chuzzlewitmore, on this account to make him happy, and to beguile ‘Do, my love,’ said John, ‘whatever is natural to you on thehim with his favourite pursuits. And then, in all the confidenceof such a time, he told her how he had a capital oppor-He had hardly time to say thus much, and Ruth had hardlyimpulse of the moment, and I am sure it will be right.’tunity of establishing himself in his old profession in the country;and how he had been thinking, in the event of that hap-Tom and Mr Chuzzlewit came in. Mr Chuzzlewit came first,time to—just to get a little farther off—upon the sofa, whenpiness coming upon him which had actually come—there and Tom was a few seconds behind him.was another slight diversion here—how he had been thinking Now Ruth had hastily resolved that she would beckon Tomthat it would afford occupation to Tom, and enable them to upstairs after a short time, and would tell him in his little bedroom.But when she saw his dear old face come in, her heart waslive together in the easiest manner, without any sense of dependenceon Tom’s part; and to be as happy as the day was so touched that she ran into his arms, and laid her head down onlong. And Ruth receiving this with joy, they went on catering his breast and sobbed out, ‘Bless me, Tom! My dearest brother!’for Tom to that extent that they had already purchased him a Tom looked up, in surprise, and saw John Westlock closeselect library and built him an organ, on which he was performingwith the greatest satisfaction, when they heard him ‘John!’ cried Tom. ‘John!’beside him, holding out his hand.knocking at the door.‘Dear Tom,’ said his friend, ‘give me your hand. We areThough she longed to tell him what had happened, poor brothers, Tom.’little Ruth was greatly agitated by his arrival; the more so Tom wrung it with all his force, embraced his sister fervently,and put her in John Westlock’s arms.because she knew that Mr Chuzzlewit was with him. So shesaid, all in a tremble:‘Don’t speak to me, John. Heaven is very good to us. I—’‘What shall I do, dear John! I can’t bear that he should hear it from Tom could find no further utterance, but left the room; andany one but me, and I could not tell him, unless we were alone.’ Ruth went after him.812

Charles DickensAnd when they came back, which they did by-and-bye, she ‘See here!’ he said, taking a case from his pocket, ‘what alooked more beautiful, and Tom more good and true (if that beautiful necklace. Ah! How it glitters! Earrings, too, andwere possible) than ever. And though Tom could not speak bracelets, and a zone for your waist. This set is yours, andupon the subject even now; being yet too newly glad, he put Mary has another like it. Tom couldn’t understand why Iboth his hands in both of John’s with emphasis sufficient for wanted two. What a short-sighted Tom! Earrings and bracelets,and a zone for your waist! Ah! Beautiful! Let us see howthe best speech ever spoken.‘I am glad you chose to-day,’ said Mr Chuzzlewit to John; brave they look. Ask Mr Westlock to clasp them on.’with the same knowing smile as when they had left him. ‘I It was the prettiest thing to see her holding out her round,thought you would. I hoped Tom and I lingered behind a white arm; and John (oh deep, deep John!) pretending thatdiscreet time. It’s so long since I had any practical knowledge the bracelet was very hard to fasten; it was the prettiest thingof these subjects, that I have been anxious, I assure you.’ to see her girding on the precious little zone, and yet obliged‘Your knowledge is still pretty accurate, sir,’ returned John, to have assistance because her fingers were in such terriblelaughing, ‘if it led you to foresee what would happen to-day.’ perplexity; it was the prettiest thing to see her so confused‘Why, I am not sure, Mr Westlock,’ said the old man, ‘that any and bashful, with the smiles and blushes playing brightly ongreat spirit of prophecy was needed, after seeing you and Ruth her face, like the sparkling light upon the jewels; it was thetogether. Come hither, pretty one. See what Tom and I purchasedthis morning, while you were dealing in exchange with ences of a twelvemonth, rely upon it.prettiest thing that you would see, in the common experi-that young merchant there.’‘The set of jewels and the wearer are so well matched,’ saidThe old man’s way of seating her beside him, and humouring the old man, ‘that I don’t know which becomes the otherhis voice as if she were a child, was whimsical enough, but most. Mr Westlock could tell me, I have no doubt, but I’llfull of tenderness, and not ill adapted, somehow, to little Ruth. not ask him, for he is bribed. Health to wear them, my dear,813

Martin Chuzzlewitand happiness to make you forgetful of them, except as a be persuaded to sit down at table; observing, that in havingremembrance from a loving friend!’the honour of attending to their comforts, he felt himself,He patted her upon the cheek, and said to Tom:indeed, the landlord of the Jolly Tapley, and could almost‘I must play the part of a father here, Tom, also. There are delude himself into the belief that the entertainment was actuallybeing held under the Jolly Tapley’s roof.not many fathers who marry two such daughters on the sameday; but we will overlook the improbability for the gratificationof an old man’s fancy. I may claim that much indul-Tapley took it upon him to issue divers general directions toFor the better encouragement of himself in this fable, Mrgence,’ he added, ‘for I have gratified few fancies enough in the waiters from the hotel, relative to the disposal of the dishesmy life tending to the happiness of others, Heaven knows!’ and so forth; and as they were usually in direct opposition toThese various proceedings had occupied so much time, and all precedent, and were always issued in his most facetiousthey fell into such a pleasant conversation now, that it was form of thought and speech, they occasioned great merrimentamong those attendants; in which Mr Tapley partici-within a quarter of an hour of the time appointed for dinnerbefore any of them thought about it. A hackney-coach soon pated, with an infinite enjoyment of his own humour. Hecarried them to the Temple, however; and there they found likewise entertained them with short anecdotes of his travelseverything prepared for their reception,appropriate to the occasion; and now and then with someMr Tapley having been furnished with unlimited credentialsrelative to the ordering of dinner, had so exerted himself that explosive laughs were constantly issuing from the side-comic passage or other between himself and Mrs Lupin; sofor the honour of the party, that a prodigious banquet was board, and from the backs of chairs; and the head-waiter (whoserved, under the joint direction of himself and his Intended. wore powder, and knee-smalls, and was usually a grave man)Mr Chuzzlewit would have had them of the party, and Martinurgently seconded his wish, but Mark could by no means stringsgot to be a bright scarlet in the face, and broke his waistcoat-audibly.814

Charles DickensYoung Martin sat at the head of the table, and Tom Pinch by the other, and in the third place nudged him in the waistcoat,and in the fourth place said, ‘How are you?’ and in aat the foot; and if there were a genial face at that board, it wasTom’s. They all took their tone from Tom. Everybody drank great many other places did a great many other things to showto him, everybody looked to him, everybody thought of him, his friendliness and joy. And he sang songs, did Fips; and madeeverybody loved him. If he so much as laid down his knife speeches, did Fips; and knocked off his wine pretty handsomely,did Fips; and in short, he showed himself a perfectand fork, somebody put out a hand to shake with him. Martinand Mary had taken him aside before dinner, and spoken Trump, did Fips, in all respects.to him so heartily of the time to come, laying such fervent But ah! the happiness of strolling home at night—obstinatelittle Ruth, she wouldn’t hear of riding!—as they hadstress upon the trust they had in his completion of their felicity,by his society and closest friendship, that Tom was positivelymoved to tears. He couldn’t bear it. His heart was full, of being able to talk about it, and to confide their happinessdone on that dear night, from Furnival’s Inn! The happinesshe said, of happiness. And so it was. Tom spoke the honest to each other! The happiness of stating all their little plans totruth. It was. Large as thy heart was, dear Tom Pinch, it had Tom, and seeing his bright face grow brighter as they spoke!no room that day for anything but happiness and sympathy! When they reached home, Tom left John and his sister inAnd there was Fips, old Fips of Austin Friars, present at the the parlour, and went upstairs into his own room, under pretenceof seeking a book. And Tom actually winked to himselfdinner, and turning out to be the jolliest old dog that ever didviolence to his convivial sentiments by shutting himself up in when he got upstairs; he thought it such a deep thing to havea dark office. ‘Where is he?’ said Fips, when he came in. And done.then he pounced on Tom, and told him that he wanted to ‘They like to be by themselves, of course,’ said Tom; ‘and Irelieve himself of all his old constraint; and in the first place came away so naturally, that I have no doubt they are expectingme, every moment, to return. That’s shook him by one hand, and in the second place shook himcapital!’815

Martin ChuzzlewitBut he had not sat reading very long, when he heard a tap at his treasure! Who could feel the rapture that I feel to-day, anddoor.love as I love her, Tom, without knowing something of her‘May I come in?’ said John.worth! Your joy unutterable! No, no, Tom. It’s mine, it’s mine.‘Oh, surely!’ Tom replied.‘No, no, John,’ said Tom. ‘It’s mine, it’s mine.’‘Don’t leave us, Tom. Don’t sit by yourself. We want to Their friendly contention was brought to a close by littlemake you merry; not melancholy.’Ruth herself, who came peeping in at the door. And oh, the‘My dear friend,’ said Tom, with a cheerful smile. look, the glorious, half-proud, half-timid look she gave Tom,‘Brother, Tom. Brother.’when her lover drew her to his side! As much as to say, ‘Yes,‘My dear brother,’ said Tom; ‘there is no danger of my beingmelancholy, how can I be melancholy, when I know that Because I AM fond of him, Tom.’indeed, Tom, he will do it. But then he has a right, you know.you and Ruth are so blest in each other! I think I can find my As to Tom, he was perfectly delighted. He could have sattongue tonight, John,’ he added, after a moment’s pause. ‘But and looked at them, just as they were, for hours.I never can tell you what unutterable joy this day has given ‘I have told Tom, love, as we agreed, that we are not goingme. It would be unjust to you to speak of your having chosen to permit him to run away, and that we cannot possibly allowit. The loss of one person, and such a person as Tom, too,a portionless girl, for I feel that you know her worth; I amsure you know her worth. Nor will it diminish in your estimation,John, which money might.’and so I have told him. Whether he is considerate, or whetherout of our small household of three, is not to be endured;‘Which money would, Tom,’ he returned. ‘Her worth! Oh, he is only selfish, I don’t know. But he needn’t be considerate,who could see her here, and not love her! Who could know for he is not the least restraint upon us. Is he, dearest Ruth?’her, Tom, and not honour her! Who could ever stand possessedof such a heart as hers, and grow indifferent to the upon them. Judging from whatWell! He really did not seem to be any particular restraintensued.816

Charles DickensWas it folly in Tom to be so pleased by their remembrance ful morning had arrived when Miss Pecksniff was to be unitedof him at such a time? Was their graceful love a folly, were in holy matrimony, to Augustus.their dear caresses follies, was their lengthened parting folly? Miss Pecksniff was in a frame of mind equally becoming toWas it folly in him to watch her window from the street, and herself and the occasion. She was full of clemency and conciliation.She had laid in several caldrons of live coals, and wasrate its scantiest gleam of light above all diamonds; folly inher to breathe his name upon her knees, and pour out her prepared to heap them on the heads of her enemies. She borepure heart before that Being from whom such hearts and such no spite nor malice in her heart. Not the least.affections come?Quarrels, Miss Pecksniff said, were dreadful things in families;and though she never could forgive her dear papa, she wasIf these be follies, then Fiery Face go on and prosper! If theybe not, then Fiery Face avaunt! But set the crunched bonnet willing to receive her other relations. They had been separated,at some other single gentleman, in any case, for one is lost to she observed, too long. It was enough to call down a judgmentthee for ever!upon the family. She believed the death of Jonas was a judgmenton them for their internal dissensions. And Miss Pecksniffwas confirmed in this belief, by the lightness with which thevisitation had fallen on herself.CHAPTER FIFTY-FOURBy way of doing sacrifice—not in triumph; not, of course,in triumph, but in humiliation of spirit—this amiable youngGIVES THE AUTHOR GREAT CONCERN.person wrote, therefore, to her kinswoman of the strong mind,FOR IT IS THE LAST IN THE BOOKand informed her that her nuptials would take place on sucha day. That she had been much hurt by the unnatural conductTODGER’S WAS IN HIGH feather, and mighty preparations for aof herself and daughters, and hoped they might not have suf-late breakfast were astir in its commercial bowers. The bliss-817

Martin Chuzzlewitfered in their consciences. That, being desirous to forgive her which the strong-minded woman underlined—so very unexpectedan occasion.enemies, and make her peace with the world before enteringinto the most solemn of covenants with the most devoted of On the receipt of this gracious reply, Miss Pecksniff extendedher forgiveness and her invitations to Mr and Mrsmen, she now held out the hand of friendship. That if thestrong-minded women took that hand, in the temper in which Spottletoe; to Mr George Chuzzlewit the bachelor cousin; toit was extended to her, she, Miss Pecksniff, did invite her to the solitary female who usually had the toothache; and to thebe present at the ceremony of her marriage, and did furthermoreinvite the three red-nosed spinsters, her daughters (but remnants of the party that had once assembled in Mrhairy young gentleman with the outline of a face; survivingMiss Pecksniff did not particularize their noses), to attend as Pecksniff’s parlour. After which Miss Pecksniff remarked thatbridesmaids.there was a sweetness in doing our duty, which neutralizedThe strong-minded women returned for answer, that herselfand daughters were, as regarded their consciences, in the The wedding guests had not yet assembled, and indeed itthe bitter in our cups.enjoyment of robust health, which she knew Miss Pecksniff was so early that Miss Pecksniff herself was in the act of dressingat her leisure, when a carriage stopped near the Monu-would be glad to hear. That she had received Miss Pecksniff’snote with unalloyed delight, because she never had attached ment; and Mark, dismounting from the rumble, assisted Mrthe least importance to the paltry and insignificant jealousies Chuzzlewit to alight. The carriage remained in waiting; sowith which herself and circle had been assailed; otherwise than did Mr Tapley. Mr Chuzzlewit betook himself to Todger’s.as she had found them, in the contemplation, a harmless He was shown, by the degenerate successor of Mr Bailey,source of innocent mirth. That she would joyfully attend Miss into the dining-parlour; where—for his visit was expected—Pecksniff’s bridal; and that her three dear daughters would be Mrs Todgers immediately appeared.happy to assist, on so interesting, and so very unexpected— ‘You are dressed, I see, for the wedding,’ he said.818

Charles DickensMrs Todgers, who was greatly flurried by the preparations, hand and put it to her lips. She was in great grief. He too wasreplied in the affirmative.agitated; for he had not seen her since their parting in the‘It goes against my wishes to have it in progress just now, I churchyard.assure you, sir,’ said Mrs Todgers; ‘but Miss Pecksniff’s mind ‘I judged you hastily,’ he said, in a low voice. ‘I fear I judgedwas set upon it, and it really is time that Miss Pecksniff was you cruelly. Let me know that I have your forgiveness.’married. That cannot be denied, sir.’She kissed his hand again; and retaining it in hers, thanked‘No,’ said Mr Chuzzlewit, ‘assuredly not. Her sister takes him in a broken voice, for all his kindness to her since.no part in the proceedings?’‘Tom Pinch,’ said Martin, ‘has faithfully related to me all that‘Oh, dear no, sir. Poor thing!’ said Mrs Todgers, shaking you desired him to convey; at a time when he deemed it veryher head, and dropping her voice. ‘Since she has known the improbable that he would ever have an opportunity of deliveringyour message. Believe me, that if I ever deal again with an ill-worst, she has never left my room; the next room.’‘Is she prepared to see me?’ he inquired.advised and unawakened nature, hiding the strength it thinks its‘Quite prepared, sir.’weakness, I will have long and merciful consideration for it.’‘Then let us lose no time.’‘You had for me; even for me,’ she answered. ‘I quite believeit. I said the words you have repeated, when my distressMrs Todgers conducted him into the little back chambercommanding the prospect of the cistern; and there, sadly differentfrom when it had first been her lodging, sat poor Merry, but I cannot urge them for myself. You spoke to me after youwas very sharp and hard to bear; I say them now for others;in mourning weeds. The room looked very dark and sorrowful;and so did she; but she had one friend beside her, faithful eration in that. You might have spoken, perhaps, more kindly;had seen and watched me day by day. There was great consid-to the last. Old Chuffey.you might have tried to invite my confidence by greater gentleness;but the end would have been the When Mr Chuzzlewit sat down at her side, she took hissame.’819

Martin ChuzzlewitHe shook his head in doubt, and not without some inward be still living), will be seized upon by law; for it is not exempt,as I learn, from the claims of those who have sufferedself-reproach.‘How can I hope,’ she said, ‘that your interposition would by the fraud in which he was engaged. Your father’s propertyhave prevailed with me, when I know how obdurate I was! I was all, or nearly all, embarked in the same transaction. Ifnever thought at all; dear Mr Chuzzlewit, I never thought at there be any left, it will be seized on, in like manner. There isall; I had no thought, no heart, no care to find one; at that no home there.’time. It has grown out of my trouble. I have felt it in my ‘I couldn’t return to him,’ she said, with an instinctive referenceto his having forced her marriage on. ‘I could not re-trouble. I wouldn’t recall my trouble such as it is and has been—and it is light in comparison with trials which hundreds of turn to him.’good people suffer every day, I know—I wouldn’t recall it tomorrow,if I could. It has been my friend, for without it no cause I know it. Come with me! From all who are about me,‘I know it,’ Mr Chuzzlewit resumed; ‘and I am here be-one could have changed me; nothing could have changed me. you are certain (I have ascertained it) of a generous welcome.Do not mistrust me because of these tears; I cannot help them. But until your health is re-established, and you are sufficientlyI am grateful for it, in my soul. Indeed I am!’composed to bear that welcome, you shall have your abode‘Indeed she is!’ said Mrs Todgers. ‘I believe it, sir.’ in any quiet retreat of your own choosing, near London; not‘And so do I!’ said Mr Chuzzlewit. ‘Now, attend to me, my so far removed but that this kind-hearted lady may still visitdear. Your late husband’s estate, if not wasted by the confessionof a large debt to the broken office (which document, are young, and have a brighter and a better future stretchingyou as often as she pleases. You have suffered much; but youbeing useless to the runaways, has been sent over to England out before you. Come with me. Your sister is careless of you,by them; not so much for the sake of the creditors as for the I know. She hurries on and publishes her marriage, in a spiritgratification of their dislike to him, whom they suppose to which (to say no more of it) is barely decent, is unsisterly, and820

Charles Dickensbad. Leave the house before her guests arrive. She means to ‘Your delicacy,’ said old Martin, ‘is troubled, I perceive. Igive you pain. Spare her the offence, and come with me!’ am not surprised to find it so. You have chosen the period ofMrs Todgers, though most unwilling to part with her, added your marriage unfortunately.’her persuasions. Even poor old Chuffey (of course included ‘I beg your pardon, Mr Chuzzlewit,’ retorted Cherry; veryin the project) added his. She hurriedly attired herself, and red and angry in a moment; ‘but if you have anything to saywas ready to depart, when Miss Pecksniff dashed into the on that subject, I must beg to refer you to Augustus. Youroom.will scarcely think it manly, I hope, to force an argument onMiss Pecksniff dashed in so suddenly, that she was placed in me, when Augustus is at all times ready to discuss it withan embarrassing position. For though she had completed her you. I have nothing to do with any deceptions that maybridal toilette as to her head, on which she wore a bridal bonnetwith orange flowers, she had not completed it as to her pointedly; ‘and as I wish to be on good terms with every-have been practiced on my parent,’ said Miss Pecksniff,skirts, which displayed no choicer decoration than a dimity body at such a time, I should have been glad if you wouldbedgown. She had dashed in, in fact, about half-way through, have favoured us with your company at breakfast. But I willto console her sister, in her affliction, with a sight of the aforesaidbonnet; and being quite unconscious of the presence of a and set against me in another quarter. I hope I have mynot ask you as it is; seeing that you have been prepossessedvisitor, until she found Mr Chuzzlewit standing face to face natural affections for another quarter, and my natural pitywith her, her surprise was an uncomfortable one.for another quarter; but I cannot always submit to be subservientto it, Mr Chuzzlewit. That would be a little too‘So, young lady!’ said the old man, eyeing her with strongdisfavour. ‘You are to be married to-day!’much. I trust I have more respect for myself, as well as for‘Yes, sir,’ returned Miss Pecksniff, modestly. ‘I am. I—my the man who claims me as his Bride.’dress is rather—really, Mrs Todgers!’‘Your sister, meeting—as I think; not as she says, for she has821

Martin Chuzzlewitsaid nothing about it—with little consideration from you, is didn’t hear me say so, I am not to blame. And as I owe it togoing away with me,’ said Mr Chuzzlewit.Augustus, to be punctual on an occasion when he may naturallybe supposed to be—to be impatient—really, Mrs‘I am very happy to find that she has some good fortune atlast,’ returned Miss Pecksniff, tossing her head. ‘I congratulateher, I am sure. I am not surprised that this event should After these words the bridal bonnet disappeared; with asTodgers!—I must beg your leave, sir, to retire.’be painful to her—painful to her—but I can’t help that, Mr much state as the dimity bedgown left in it.Chuzzlewit. It’s not my fault.’Old Martin gave his arm to the younger sister without speaking;and led her out. Mrs Todgers, with her holiday garments‘Come, Miss Pecksniff!’ said the old man, quietly. ‘I shouldlike to see a better parting between you. I should like to see a fluttering in the wind, accompanied them to the carriage, clungbetter parting on your side, in such circumstances. It would round Merry’s neck at parting, and ran back to her own dingymake me your friend. You may want a friend one day or other.’ house, crying the whole way. She had a lean, lank body, Mrs‘Every relation of life, Mr Chuzzlewit, begging your pardon;and every friend in life,’ returned Miss Pecksniff, with Samaritan was lean and lank, and found it hard to live. WhoTodgers, but a well-conditioned soul within. Perhaps the gooddignity, ‘is now bound up and cemented in Augustus. So knows!long as Augustus is my own, I cannot want a friend. When Mr Chuzzlewit followed her so closely with his eyes, that,you speak of friends, sir, I must beg, once for all, to refer you until she had shut her own door, they did not encounter Mrto Augustus. That is my impression of the religious ceremony Tapley’s face.in which I am so soon to take a part at that altar to which ‘Why, Mark!’ he said, as soon as he observed it, ‘what’s theAugustus will conduct me. I bear no malice at any time, much matter?’less in a moment of triumph, towards any one; much less ‘The wonderfulest ewent, sir!’ returned Mark, pumping attowards my sister. On the contrary, I congratulate her. If you his voice in a most laborious manner, and hardly able to ar-822

Charles Dickensticulate with all his efforts. ‘A coincidence as never was equalled! ‘Neighbours in America! Neighbours in Eden!’ cried Mark.I’m blessed if here ain’t two old neighbours of ourn, sir!’ ‘Neighbours in the swamp, neighbours in the bush, neighbours‘What neighbours?’ cried old Martin, looking out of window.‘Where?’we both have died without ‘em! Haven’t they come a-strugglin’in the fever. Didn’t she nurse us! Didn’t he help us! Shouldn’t‘I was a-walkin’ up and down not five yards from this spot,’ back, without a single child for their consolation! And talk tosaid Mr Tapley, breathless, ‘and they come upon me like their me of neighbours!’own ghosts, as I thought they was! It’s the wonderfulest ewent Away he went again, in a perfectly wild state, hugging them,that ever happened. Bring a feather, somebody, and knock and skipping round them, and cutting in between them, as ifme down with it!’he were performing some frantic and outlandish dance.‘What do you mean!’ exclaimed old Martin, quite as much Mr Chuzzlewit no sooner gathered who these people were,excited by the spectacle of Mark’s excitement as that strange than he burst open the coach-door somehow or other, andperson was himself. ‘Neighbours, where?’came tumbling out among them; and as if the lunacy of Mr‘Here, sir!’ replied Mr Tapley. ‘Here in the city of London! Tapley were contagious, he immediately began to shake handsHere upon these very stones! Here they are, sir! Don’t I know too, and exhibit every demonstration of the liveliest joy.‘em? Lord love their welcome faces, don’t I know ‘em!’ ‘Get up, behind!’ he said. ‘Get up in the rumble. ComeWith which ejaculations Mr Tapley not only pointed to a along with me! Go you on the box, Mark. Home! Home!’decent-looking man and woman standing by, but commenced ‘Home!’ cried Mr Tapley, seizing the old man’s hand in aembracing them alternately, over and over again, in MonumentYard.Excuse the liberty, sir, I can’t help it. Success to the Jolly Tapley!burst of enthusiasm. ‘Exactly my opinion, sir. Home for ever!‘Neighbours, where? old Martin shouted; almost maddened There’s nothin’ in the house they shan’t have for the askin’by his ineffectual efforts to get out at the coach-door. for, except a bill. Home to be sure! Hurrah!’823

Martin ChuzzlewitHome they rolled accordingly, when he had got the old him; and the bachelor cousin, the hairy young gentleman,man in again, as fast as they could go; Mark abating nothing and Mr and Mrs Spottletoe, arrived in quick succession.of his fervour by the way, by allowing it to vent itself as Mr Spottletoe honoured Jinkins with an encouraging bow.unrestrainedly as if he had been on Salisbury Plain.‘Glad to know you, sir,’ he said. ‘Give you joy!’ Under theAnd now the wedding party began to assemble at Todgers’s. impression that Jinkins was the happy man.Mr Jinkins, the only boarder invited, was on the ground Mr Jinkins explained. He was merely doing the honoursfirst. He wore a white favour in his button-hole, and a bran for his friend Moddle, who had ceased to reside in the house,new extra super double-milled blue saxony dress coat (that and had not yet arrived.was its description in the bill), with a variety of tortuous ‘Not arrived, sir!’ exclaimed Spottletoe, in a great heat.embellishments about the pockets, invented by the artist to ‘Not yet,’ said Mr Jinkins.do honour to the day. The miserable Augustus no longer ‘Upon my soul!’ cried Spottletoe. ‘He begins well! Uponfelt strongly even on the subject of Jinkins. He hadn’t strength my life and honour this young man begins well! But I shouldof mind enough to do it. ‘Let him come!’ he had said, in very much like to know how it is that every one who comesanswer to Miss Pecksniff, when she urged the point. ‘Let into contact with this family is guilty of some gross insult tohim come! He has ever been my rock ahead through life. it. Death! Not arrived yet. Not here to receive us!’’Tis meet he should be there. Ha, ha! Oh, yes! let Jinkins The nephew with the outline of a countenance, suggested thatcome!’perhaps he had ordered a new pair of boots, and they hadn’tJinkins had come with all the pleasure in life, and there he come home.was. For some few minutes he had no companion but the ‘Don’t talk to me of Boots, sir!’ retorted Spottletoe, withbreakfast, which was set forth in the drawing-room, with immense indignation. ‘He is bound to come here in his slippersthen; he is bound to come here barefoot. Don’t unusual taste and ceremony. But Mrs Todgers soon joinedoffer824

Charles Dickenssuch a wretched and evasive plea to me on behalf of your ‘If you allude to me, sir—’ the strong-minded woman began.friend, as Boots, sir.’‘He is not my friend,’ said the nephew. ‘I never saw him.’ ‘Pray,’ interposed Miss Pecksniff, ‘do not allow Augustus,‘Very well, sir,’ returned the fiery Spottletoe. ‘Then don’t talk at this awful moment of his life and mine, to be the means ofto me!’disturbing that harmony which it is ever Augustus’s and myThe door was thrown open at this juncture, and Miss wish to maintain. Augustus has not been introduced to anyPecksniff entered, tottering, and supported by her three bridesmaids.The strong-minded woman brought up the rear; hav-‘Why, then, I venture to assert,’ cried Mr Spottletoe, ‘thatof my relations now present. He preferred not.’ing waited outside until now, for the purpose of spoiling the the man who aspires to join this family, and “prefers not” toeffect.be introduced to its members, is an impertinent Puppy. That‘How do you do, ma’am!’ said Spottletoe to the strongmindedwoman in a tone of defiance. ‘I believe you see Mrs The strong-minded woman remarked with great suavity,is my opinion of him!’Spottletoe, ma’am?’that she was afraid he must be. Her three daughters observedThe strong-minded woman with an air of great interest in aloud that it was ‘Shameful!’Mrs Spottletoe’s health, regretted that she was not more easilyseen. Nature erring, in that lady’s case, upon the slim side. ‘indeed you do not know him. Augustus is all mildness and‘You do not know Augustus,’ said Miss Pecksniff, tearfully,‘Mrs Spottletoe is at least more easily seen than the bridegroom,ma’am,’ returned that lady’s husband. ‘That is, unless conciliate your affections.’humility. Wait till you see Augustus, and I am sure he willhe has confined his attentions to any particular part or branch ‘The question arises,’ said Spottletoe, folding his arms: ‘Howof this family, which would be quite in keeping with its usual long we are to wait. I am not accustomed to wait; that’s theproceedings.’fact. And I want to know how long we are expected to wait.’825

Martin Chuzzlewit‘Mrs Todgers!’ said Charity, ‘Mr Jinkins! I am afraid there wife. Everybody spoke at once, and Miss Pecksniff, withmust be some mistake. I think Augustus must have gone clasped hands, sought consolation everywhere and found itstraight to the Altar!’nowhere, when Jinkins, having met the postman at the door,As such a thing was possible, and the church was close at came back with a letter, which he put into her hand.hand, Mr Jinkins ran off to see, accompanied by Mr George Miss Pecksniff opened it, uttered a piercing shriek, threw itChuzzlewit the bachelor cousin, who preferred anything to down upon the ground, and fainted away.the aggravation of sitting near the breakfast, without being They picked it up; and crowding round, and looking overable to eat it. But they came back with no other tidings than one another’s shoulders, read, in the words and dashes following,this communication:a familiar message from the clerk, importing that if theywanted to be married that morning they had better look sharp,as the curate wasn’t going to wait there all day.‘OFF GRAVESEND.The bride was now alarmed; seriously alarmed. Good Heavens,what could have happened! Augustus! Dear Augustus! ‘Wednesday night‘CLIPPER SCHOONER, CUPIDMr Jinkins volunteered to take a cab, and seek him at thenewly-furnished house. The strong-minded woman administeredcomfort to Miss Pecksniff. ‘It was a specimen of what you, the undersigned will be—if not a corpse—on the way to‘EVER INJURED MISS PECKSNIFF—Ere this reachesshe had to expect. It would do her good. It would dispel the Van Dieman’s Land. Send not in pursuit. I never will be takenromance of the affair.’ The red-nosed daughters also administeredthe kindest comfort. ‘Perhaps he’d come,’ they said. The ‘The burden—300 tons per register—forgive, if in my dis-alive!sketchy nephew hinted that he might have fallen off a bridge. traction, I allude to the ship—on my mind—has been trulyThe wrath of Mr Spottletoe resisted all the entreaties of his dreadful. Frequently —when you have sought to soothe my826

Charles Dickensbrow with kisses—has self-destruction flashed across me. Frequently—incredibleas it may seem—have I abandoned the volve yourself in the inscrutable and gloomy Fate which it is‘But it was written—in the Talmud—that you should in-idea.my mission to accomplish, and which wreathes itself—e’en‘I love another. She is Another’s. Everything appears to be now—about in temples. I will not reproach, for I havesomebody else’s. Nothing in the world is mine—not even my wronged you. May the Furniture make some amends!Situation—which I have forfeited—by my rash conduct—in ‘Farewell! Be the proud bride of a ducal coronet, and forgetrunning away.me! Long may it be before you know the anguish with which‘If you ever loved me, hear my last appeal! The last appeal I now subscribe myself—amid the tempestuous howlings ofof a miserable and blighted exile. Forward the inclosed—it is the—sailors,the key of my desk—to the office—by hand. Please addressto Bobbs and Cholberry—I mean to Chobbs and Bolberry—‘Unalterably,but my mind is totally unhinged. I left a penknife—with a‘Never yours,buckhorn handle—in your work-box. It will repay the messenger.May it make him happier than ever it did me!‘AUGUSTUS.’‘Oh, Miss Pecksniff, why didn’t you leave me alone! Was it They thought as little of Miss Pecksniff, while they greedilyperused this letter, as if she were the very last person onnot cruel, cruel! Oh, my goodness, have you not been a witnessof my feelings—have you not seen them flowing from earth whom it concerned. But Miss Pecksniff really had faintedmy eyes—did you not, yourself, reproach me with weeping away. The bitterness of her mortification; the bitterness ofmore than usual on that dreadful night when last we met—in having summoned witnesses, and such witnesses, to beholdthat house—where I once was peaceful—though blighted— it; the bitterness of knowing that the strong-minded womenin the society of Mrs Todgers!and the red-nosed daughters towered triumphant in this hour827

Martin Chuzzlewitof their anticipated overthrow; was too much to be borne. For a drunken, begging, squalid, letter-writing man, calledMiss Pecksniff had fainted away in earnest.Pecksniff, with a shrewish daughter, haunts thee, Tom; andwhen he makes appeals to thee for cash, reminds thee that heWHAT SOUNDS ARE THESE that fall so grandly on the ear! What built thy fortunes better than his own; and when he spends it,darkening room is this!entertains the alehouse company with tales of thine ingratitudeand his munificence towards thee once upon a time; andAnd that mild figure seated at an organ, who is he! Ah Tom,dear Tom, old friend!then he shows his elbows worn in holes, and puts his solelessThy head is prematurely grey, though Time has passed thee shoes up on a bench, and begs his auditors look there, whileand our old association, Tom. But, in those sounds with which thou art comfortably housed and clothed. All known to thee,it is thy wont to bear the twilight company, the music of thy and yet all borne with, Tom!heart speaks out—the story of thy life relates itself.So, with a smile upon thy face, thou passest gently to anothermeasure—to a quicker and more joyful one—and littleThy life is tranquil, calm, and happy, Tom. In the soft strainwhich ever and again comes stealing back upon the ear, the memory feet are used to dance about thee at the sound, and brightof thine old love may find a voice perhaps; but it is a pleasant, young eyes to glance up into thine. And there is one slightsoftened, whispering memory, like that in which we sometimes creature, Tom—her child; not Ruth’s—whom thine eyes followin the romp and dance; who, wondering sometimes tohold the dead, and does not pain or grieve thee, God be thanked.Touch the notes lightly, Tom, as lightly as thou wilt, but see thee look so thoughtful, runs to climb up on thy knee,never will thine hand fall half so lightly on that Instrument as and put her cheek to thine; who loves thee, Tom, above theon the head of thine old tyrant brought down very, very low; rest, if that can be; and falling sick once, chose thee for herand never will it make as hollow a response to any touch of nurse, and never knew impatience, Tom, when thou wert bythine, as he does always.her side.828

Charles DickensThou glidest, now, into a graver air; an air devoted to oldfriends and bygone times; and in thy lingering touch uponthe keys, and the rich swelling of the mellow harmony, theyrise before thee. The spirit of that old man dead, who delightedto anticipate thy wants, and never ceased to honourthee, is there, among the rest; repeating, with a face composedand calm, the words he said to thee upon his bed, andblessing thee!And coming from a garden, Tom, bestrewn with flowersby children’s hands, thy sister, little Ruth, as light of foot andheart as in old days, sits down beside thee. From the Present,and the Past, with which she is so tenderly entwined in all thythoughts, thy strain soars onward to the Future. As it resoundswithin thee and without, the noble music, rolling round yeboth, shuts out the grosser prospect of an earthly parting, anduplifts ye both to Heaven!829