Martin Chuzzlewit

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  SHOWING THAT OLD FRIENDS MAY NOT ONLY APPEAR WITH NEW FACES, BUT INFALSE COLOURS. THAT PEOPLE ARE PRONE TO BITE, AND THAT BITERS MAYSOMETIMES BE BITTEN.

  Mr Bailey, Junior--for the sporting character, whilom of general utilityat Todgers's, had now regularly set up in life under that name, withouttroubling himself to obtain from the legislature a direct licence inthe form of a Private Bill, which of all kinds and classes of billsis without exception the most unreasonable in its charges--Mr Bailey,Junior, just tall enough to be seen by an inquiring eye, gazingindolently at society from beneath the apron of his master's cab, droveslowly up and down Pall Mall, about the hour of noon, in waiting for his'Governor.' The horse of distinguished family, who had Capricorn for hisnephew, and Cauliflower for his brother, showed himself worthy of hishigh relations by champing at the bit until his chest was white withfoam, and rearing like a horse in heraldry; the plated harness and thepatent leather glittered in the sun; pedestrians admired; Mr Bailey wascomplacent, but unmoved. He seemed to say, 'A barrow, good people, amere barrow; nothing to what we could do, if we chose!' and on he went,squaring his short green arms outside the apron, as if he were hooked onto it by his armpits.

  Mr Bailey had a great opinion of Brother to Cauliflower, and estimatedhis powers highly. But he never told him so. On the contrary, it was hispractice, in driving that animal, to assail him with disrespectful,if not injurious, expressions, as, 'Ah! would you!' 'Did you thinkit, then?' 'Where are you going to now?' 'No, you won't, my lad!' andsimilar fragmentary remarks. These being usually accompanied by a jerkof the rein, or a crack of the whip, led to many trials of strengthbetween them, and to many contentions for the upper-hand, terminating,now and then, in china-shops, and other unusual goals, as Mr Bailey hadalready hinted to his friend Poll Sweedlepipe.

  On the present occasion Mr Bailey, being in spirits, was more thancommonly hard upon his charge; in consequence of which that fiery animalconfined himself almost entirely to his hind legs in displaying hispaces, and constantly got himself into positions with reference to thecabriolet that very much amazed the passengers in the street. But MrBailey, not at all disturbed, had still a shower of pleasantries tobestow on any one who crossed his path; as, calling to a full-growncoal-heaver in a wagon, who for a moment blocked the way, 'Now, young'un, who trusted YOU with a cart?' inquiring of elderly ladies whowanted to cross, and ran back again, 'Why they didn't go to theworkhouse and get an order to be buried?' tempting boys, with friendlywords, to get up behind, and immediately afterwards cutting them down;and the like flashes of a cheerful humour, which he would occasionallyrelieve by going round St. James's Square at a hand gallop, and comingslowly into Pall Mall by another entry, as if, in the interval, his pacehad been a perfect crawl.

  It was not until these amusements had been very often repeated, and theapple-stall at the corner had sustained so many miraculous escapes as toappear impregnable, that Mr Bailey was summoned to the door of a certainhouse in Pall Mall, and turning short, obeyed the call and jumped out.It was not until he had held the bridle for some minutes longer, everyjerk of Cauliflower's brother's head, and every twitch of Cauliflower'sbrother's nostril, taking him off his legs in the meanwhile, thattwo persons entered the vehicle, one of whom took the reins and droverapidly off. Nor was it until Mr Bailey had run after it some hundredsof yards in vain, that he managed to lift his short leg into the ironstep, and finally to get his boots upon the little footboard behind.Then, indeed, he became a sight to see; and--standing now on one footand now upon the other, now trying to look round the cab on this side,now on that, and now endeavouring to peep over the top of it, as it wentdashing in among the carts and coaches--was from head to heel Newmarket.

  The appearance of Mr Bailey's governor as he drove along fully justifiedthat enthusiastic youth's description of him to the wondering Poll. Hehad a world of jet-black shining hair upon his head, upon his cheeks,upon his chin, upon his upper lip. His clothes, symmetrically made, wereof the newest fashion and the costliest kind. Flowers of gold and blue,and green and blushing red, were on his waistcoat; precious chainsand jewels sparkled on his breast; his fingers, clogged with brilliantrings, were as unwieldly as summer flies but newly rescued from ahoney-pot. The daylight mantled in his gleaming hat and boots as ina polished glass. And yet, though changed his name, and changed hisoutward surface, it was Tigg. Though turned and twisted upside down,and inside out, as great men have been sometimes known to be; thoughno longer Montague Tigg, but Tigg Montague; still it was Tigg; the sameSatanic, gallant, military Tigg. The brass was burnished, lacquered,newly stamped; yet it was the true Tigg metal notwithstanding.

  Beside him sat a smiling gentleman, of less pretensions and of businesslooks, whom he addressed as David. Surely not the David of the--howshall it be phrased?--the triumvirate of golden balls? Not David,tapster at the Lombards' Arms? Yes. The very man.

  'The secretary's salary, David,' said Mr Montague, 'the office beingnow established, is eight hundred pounds per annum, with his house-rent,coals, and candles free. His five-and-twenty shares he holds, of course.Is that enough?'

  David smiled and nodded, and coughed behind a little locked portfoliowhich he carried; with an air that proclaimed him to be the secretary inquestion.

  'If that's enough,' said Montague, 'I will propose it at the Boardto-day, in my capacity as chairman.'

  The secretary smiled again; laughed, indeed, this time; and said,rubbing his nose slily with one end of the portfolio:

  'It was a capital thought, wasn't it?'

  'What was a capital thought, David?' Mr Montague inquired.

  'The Anglo-Bengalee,' tittered the secretary.

  'The Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Assurance Company israther a capital concern, I hope, David,' said Montague.

  'Capital indeed!' cried the secretary, with another laugh--' in onesense.'

  'In the only important one,' observed the chairman; 'which is numberone, David.'

  'What,' asked the secretary, bursting into another laugh, 'what will bethe paid up capital, according to the next prospectus?'

  'A figure of two, and as many oughts after it as the printer can getinto the same line,' replied his friend. 'Ha, ha!'

  At this they both laughed; the secretary so vehemently, that in kickingup his feet, he kicked the apron open, and nearly started Cauliflower'sbrother into an oyster shop; not to mention Mr Bailey's receiving sucha sudden swing, that he held on for a moment quite a young Fame, by onestrap and no legs.

  'What a chap you are!' exclaimed David admiringly, when this littlealarm had subsided.

  'Say, genius, David, genius.'

  'Well, upon my soul, you ARE a genius then,' said David. 'I always knewyou had the gift of the gab, of course; but I never believed you werehalf the man you are. How could I?'

  'I rise with circumstances, David. That's a point of genius in itself,'said Tigg. 'If you were to lose a hundred pound wager to me atthis minute David, and were to pay it (which is most confoundedlyimprobable), I should rise, in a mental point of view, directly.'

  It is due to Mr Tigg to say that he had really risen with hisopportunities; and, peculating on a grander scale, he had become agrander man altogether.

  'Ha, ha,' cried the secretary, laying his hand, with growingfamiliarity, upon the chairman's arm. 'When I look at you, and think ofyour property in Bengal being--ha, ha, ha!--'

  The half-expressed idea seemed no less ludicrous to Mr Tigg than to hisfriend, for he laughed too, heartily.

  '--Being,' resumed David, 'being amenable--your property in Bengal beingamenable--to all claims upon the company; when I look at you and thinkof that, you might tickle me into fits by waving the feather of a pen atme. Upon my soul you might!'

  'It a devilish fine property,' said Tigg Montague, 'to be amenableto any claims. The preserve of tigers alone is worth a mint of money,David.'

  David could only reply in the intervals of his laughter, 'Oh, what achap you are!' and so co
ntinued to laugh, and hold his sides, and wipehis eyes, for some time, without offering any other observation.

  'A capital idea?' said Tigg, returning after a time to his companion'sfirst remark; 'no doubt it was a capital idea. It was my idea.'

  'No, no. It was my idea,' said David. 'Hang it, let a man have somecredit. Didn't I say to you that I'd saved a few pounds?--'

  'You said! Didn't I say to you,' interposed Tigg, 'that I had come intoa few pounds?'

  'Certainly you did,' returned David, warmly, 'but that's not the idea.Who said, that if we put the money together we could furnish an office,and make a show?'

  'And who said,' retorted Mr Tigg, 'that, provided we did it on asufficiently large scale, we could furnish an office and make a show,without any money at all? Be rational, and just, and calm, and tell mewhose idea was that.'

  'Why, there,' David was obliged to confess, 'you had the advantage ofme, I admit. But I don't put myself on a level with you. I only want alittle credit in the business.'

  'All the credit you deserve to have,' said Tigg.

  'The plain work of the company, David--figures, books, circulars,advertisements, pen, ink, and paper, sealing-wax and wafers--isadmirably done by you. You are a first-rate groveller. I don't disputeit. But the ornamental department, David; the inventive and poeticaldepartment--'

  'Is entirely yours,' said his friend. 'No question of it. But with sucha swell turnout as this, and all the handsome things you've got aboutyou, and the life you lead, I mean to say it's a precious comfortabledepartment too.'

  'Does it gain the purpose? Is it Anglo-Bengalee?' asked Tigg.

  'Yes,' said David.

  'Could you undertake it yourself?' demanded Tigg.

  'No,' said David.

  'Ha, ha!' laughed Tigg. 'Then be contented with your station andyour profits, David, my fine fellow, and bless the day that made usacquainted across the counter of our common uncle, for it was a goldenday to you.'

  It will have been already gathered from the conversation of theseworthies, that they were embarked in an enterprise of some magnitude, inwhich they addressed the public in general from the strong position ofhaving everything to gain and nothing at all to lose; and which, basedupon this great principle, was thriving pretty comfortably.

  The Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Assurance Company startedinto existence one morning, not an Infant Institution, but a Grown-upCompany running alone at a great pace, and doing business right andleft: with a 'branch' in a first floor over a tailor's at the west-endof the town, and main offices in a new street in the City, comprisingthe upper part of a spacious house resplendent in stucco andplate-glass, with wire-blinds in all the windows, and 'Anglo-Bengalee'worked into the pattern of every one of them. On the doorpost waspainted again in large letters, 'offices of the Anglo-BengaleeDisinterested Loan and Life Assurance Company,' and on the door was alarge brass plate with the same inscription; always kept very bright, ascourting inquiry; staring the City out of countenance after office hourson working days, and all day long on Sundays; and looking bolder thanthe Bank. Within, the offices were newly plastered, newly painted,newly papered, newly countered, newly floor-clothed, newly tabled, newlychaired, newly fitted up in every way, with goods that were substantialand expensive, and designed (like the company) to last. Business! Lookat the green ledgers with red backs, like strong cricket-balls beatenflat; the court-guides directories, day-books, almanacks, letter-boxes,weighing-machines for letters, rows of fire-buckets for dashing out aconflagration in its first spark, and saving the immense wealth in notesand bonds belonging to the company; look at the iron safes, the clock,the office seal--in its capacious self, security for anything. Solidity!Look at the massive blocks of marble in the chimney-pieces, and thegorgeous parapet on the top of the house! Publicity! Why, Anglo-BengaleeDisinterested Loan and Life Assurance company is painted on the verycoal-scuttles. It is repeated at every turn until the eyes are dazzledwith it, and the head is giddy. It is engraved upon the top of all theletter paper, and it makes a scroll-work round the seal, and it shinesout of the porter's buttons, and it is repeated twenty times in everycircular and public notice wherein one David Crimple, Esquire, Secretaryand resident Director, takes the liberty of inviting your attentionto the accompanying statement of the advantages offered by theAnglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Assurance Company; and fullyproves to you that any connection on your part with that establishmentmust result in a perpetual Christmas Box and constantly increasing Bonusto yourself, and that nobody can run any risk by the transaction exceptthe office, which, in its great liberality is pretty sure to lose. Andthis, David Crimple, Esquire, submits to you (and the odds are heavy youbelieve him), is the best guarantee that can reasonably be suggested bythe Board of Management for its permanence and stability.

  This gentleman's name, by the way, had been originally Crimp; but asthe word was susceptible of an awkward construction and might bemisrepresented, he had altered it to Crimple.

  Lest with all these proofs and confirmations, any man should besuspicious of the Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Assurancecompany; should doubt in tiger, cab, or person, Tigg Montague, Esquire,(of Pall Mall and Bengal), or any other name in the imaginative List ofDirectors; there was a porter on the premises--a wonderful creature,in a vast red waistcoat and a short-tailed pepper-and-salt coat--whocarried more conviction to the minds of sceptics than the wholeestablishment without him. No confidences existed between him and theDirectorship; nobody knew where he had served last; no character orexplanation had been given or required. No questions had been asked oneither side. This mysterious being, relying solely on his figure, hadapplied for the situation, and had been instantly engaged on his ownterms. They were high; but he knew, doubtless, that no man could carrysuch an extent of waistcoat as himself, and felt the full value of hiscapacity to such an institution. When he sat upon a seat erected for himin a corner of the office, with his glazed hat hanging on a peg over hishead, it was impossible to doubt the respectability of the concern.It went on doubling itself with every square inch of his red waistcoatuntil, like the problem of the nails in the horse's shoes, the totalbecame enormous. People had been known to apply to effect an insuranceon their lives for a thousand pounds, and looking at him, to beg, beforethe form of proposal was filled up, that it might be made two. And yethe was not a giant. His coat was rather small than otherwise. The wholecharm was in his waistcoat. Respectability, competence, property inBengal or anywhere else, responsibility to any amount on the part of thecompany that employed him, were all expressed in that one garment.

  Rival offices had endeavoured to lure him away; Lombard Street itselfhad beckoned to him; rich companies had whispered 'Be a Beadle!' but hestill continued faithful to the Anglo-Bengalee. Whether he was a deeprogue, or a stately simpleton, it was impossible to make out, but heappeared to believe in the Anglo-Bengalee. He was grave with imaginarycares of office; and having nothing whatever to do, and something lessto take care of, would look as if the pressure of his numerous duties,and a sense of the treasure in the company's strong-room, made him asolemn and a thoughtful man.

  As the cabriolet drove up to the door, this officer appeared bare-headedon the pavement, crying aloud 'Room for the chairman, room for thechairman, if you please!' much to the admiration of the bystanders,who, it is needless to say, had their attention directed to theAnglo-Bengalee Company thenceforth, by that means. Mr Tigg leapedgracefully out, followed by the Managing Director (who was by this timevery distant and respectful), and ascended the stairs, still preceded bythe porter, who cried as he went, 'By your leave there! by your leave!The Chairman of the Board, Gentle--MEN! In like manner, but in a stillmore stentorian voice, he ushered the chairman through the publicoffice, where some humble clients were transacting business, intoan awful chamber, labelled Board-room; the door of which sanctuaryimmediately closed, and screened the great capitalist from vulgar eyes.

  The board-room had a Turkey carpet in it, a sideboard, a portr
ait ofTigg Montague, Esquire, as chairman; a very imposing chair of office,garnished with an ivory hammer and a little hand-bell; and a long table,set out at intervals with sheets of blotting-paper, foolscap, cleanpens, and inkstands. The chairman having taken his seat with greatsolemnity, the secretary supported him on his right hand, and the porterstood bolt upright behind them, forming a warm background of waistcoat.This was the board: everything else being a light-hearted littlefiction.

  'Bullamy!' said Mr Tigg.

  'Sir!' replied the porter.

  'Let the Medical Officer know, with my compliments, that I wish to seehim.'

  Bullamy cleared his throat, and bustled out into the office, crying 'TheChairman of the Board wishes to see the Medical Officer. By your leavethere! By your leave!' He soon returned with the gentleman in question;and at both openings of the board-room door--at his coming in and athis going out--simple clients were seen to stretch their necks andstand upon their toes, thirsting to catch the slightest glimpse of thatmysterious chamber.

  'Jobling, my dear friend!' said Mr Tigg, 'how are you? Bullamy, waitoutside. Crimple, don't leave us. Jobling, my good fellow, I am glad tosee you.'

  'And how are you, Mr Montague, eh?' said the Medical Officer, throwinghimself luxuriously into an easy-chair (they were all easy-chairs in theboard-room), and taking a handsome gold snuff-box from the pocket of hisblack satin waistcoat. 'How are you? A little worn with business, eh? Ifso, rest. A little feverish from wine, humph? If so, water. Nothingat all the matter, and quite comfortable? Then take some lunch. A verywholesome thing at this time of day to strengthen the gastric juiceswith lunch, Mr Montague.'

  The Medical Officer (he was the same medical officer who had followedpoor old Anthony Chuzzlewit to the grave, and who had attended MrsGamp's patient at the Bull) smiled in saying these words; and casuallyadded, as he brushed some grains of snuff from his shirt-frill, 'Ialways take it myself about this time of day, do you know!'

  'Bullamy!' said the Chairman, ringing the little bell.

  'Sir!'

  'Lunch.'

  'Not on my account, I hope?' said the doctor. 'You are very good. Thankyou. I'm quite ashamed. Ha, ha! if I had been a sharp practitioner,Mr Montague, I shouldn't have mentioned it without a fee; for you maydepend upon it, my dear sir, that if you don't make a point of takinglunch, you'll very soon come under my hands. Allow me to illustratethis. In Mr Crimple's leg--'

  The resident Director gave an involuntary start, for the doctor, in theheat of his demonstration, caught it up and laid it across his own, asif he were going to take it off, then and there.

  'In Mr Crimple's leg, you'll observe,' pursued the doctor, turning backhis cuffs and spanning the limb with both hands, 'where Mr Crimple'sknee fits into the socket, here, there is--that is to say, between thebone and the socket--a certain quantity of animal oil.'

  'What do you pick MY leg out for?' said Mr Crimple, looking withsomething of an anxious expression at his limb. 'It's the same withother legs, ain't it?'

  'Never you mind, my good sir,' returned the doctor, shaking his head,'whether it is the same with other legs, or not the same.'

  'But I do mind,' said David.

  'I take a particular case, Mr Montague,' returned the doctor, 'asillustrating my remark, you observe. In this portion of Mr Crimple'sleg, sir, there is a certain amount of animal oil. In every one of MrCrimple's joints, sir, there is more or less of the same deposit. Verygood. If Mr Crimple neglects his meals, or fails to take his properquantity of rest, that oil wanes, and becomes exhausted. What is theconsequence? Mr Crimple's bones sink down into their sockets, sir, andMr Crimple becomes a weazen, puny, stunted, miserable man!'

  The doctor let Mr Crimple's leg fall suddenly, as if he were already inthat agreeable condition; turned down his wristbands again, and lookedtriumphantly at the chairman.

  'We know a few secrets of nature in our profession, sir,' said thedoctor. 'Of course we do. We study for that; we pass the Hall and theCollege for that; and we take our station in society BY that. It'sextraordinary how little is known on these subjects generally. Wheredo you suppose, now'--the doctor closed one eye, as he leaned backsmilingly in his chair, and formed a triangle with his hands, of whichhis two thumbs composed the base--'where do you suppose Mr Crimple'sstomach is?'

  Mr Crimple, more agitated than before, clapped his hand immediatelybelow his waistcoat.

  'Not at all,' cried the doctor; 'not at all. Quite a popular mistake! Mygood sir, you're altogether deceived.'

  'I feel it there, when it's out of order; that's all I know,' saidCrimple.

  'You think you do,' replied the doctor; 'but science knows better. Therewas a patient of mine once,' touching one of the many mourning ringsupon his fingers, and slightly bowing his head, 'a gentleman who didme the honour to make a very handsome mention of me in his will--"intestimony," as he was pleased to say, "of the unremitting zeal, talent,and attention of my friend and medical attendant, John Jobling, Esquire,M.R.C.S.,"--who was so overcome by the idea of having all his lifelaboured under an erroneous view of the locality of this importantorgan, that when I assured him on my professional reputation, he wasmistaken, he burst into tears, put out his hand, and said, "Jobling,God bless you!" Immediately afterwards he became speechless, and wasultimately buried at Brixton.'

  'By your leave there!' cried Bullamy, without. 'By your leave!Refreshment for the Board-room!'

  'Ha!' said the doctor, jocularly, as he rubbed his hands, and drew hischair nearer to the table. 'The true Life Assurance, Mr Montague. Thebest Policy in the world, my dear sir. We should be provident, and eatand drink whenever we can. Eh, Mr Crimple?'

  The resident Director acquiesced rather sulkily, as if the gratificationof replenishing his stomach had been impaired by the unsettlement of hispreconceived opinions in reference to its situation. But the appearanceof the porter and under-porter with a tray covered with a snow-whitecloth, which, being thrown back, displayed a pair of cold roast fowls,flanked by some potted meats and a cool salad, quickly restored hisgood humour. It was enhanced still further by the arrival of a bottleof excellent madeira, and another of champagne; and he soon attackedthe repast with an appetite scarcely inferior to that of the medicalofficer.

  The lunch was handsomely served, with a profusion of rich glass plate,and china; which seemed to denote that eating and drinking on a showyscale formed no unimportant item in the business of the Anglo-BengaleeDirectorship. As it proceeded, the Medical Officer grew more and morejoyous and red-faced, insomuch that every mouthful he ate, and everydrop of wine he swallowed, seemed to impart new lustre to his eyes, andto light up new sparks in his nose and forehead.

  In certain quarters of the City and its neighbourhood, Mr Jobling was,as we have already seen in some measure, a very popular character. Hehad a portentously sagacious chin, and a pompous voice, with a richhuskiness in some of its tones that went directly to the heart, like aray of light shining through the ruddy medium of choice old burgundy.His neckerchief and shirt-frill were ever of the whitest, his clothes ofthe blackest and sleekest, his gold watch-chain of the heaviest, andhis seals of the largest. His boots, which were always of the brightest,creaked as he walked. Perhaps he could shake his head, rub his hands,or warm himself before a fire, better than any man alive; and he had apeculiar way of smacking his lips and saying, 'Ah!' at intervals whilepatients detailed their symptoms, which inspired great confidence. Itseemed to express, 'I know what you're going to say better than you do;but go on, go on.' As he talked on all occasions whether he had anythingto say or not, it was unanimously observed of him that he was 'full ofanecdote;' and his experience and profit from it were considered, forthe same reason, to be something much too extensive for description. Hisfemale patients could never praise him too highly; and the coldest ofhis male admirers would always say this for him to their friends, 'thatwhatever Jobling's professional skill might be (and it could not bedenied that he had a very high reputation), he was one of the mostcomfortable fellows you ever saw in
your life!'

  Jobling was for many reasons, and not last in the list because hisconnection lay principally among tradesmen and their families, exactlythe sort of person whom the Anglo-Bengalee Company wanted for a medicalofficer. But Jobling was far too knowing to connect himself with thecompany in any closer ties than as a paid (and well paid) functionary,or to allow his connection to be misunderstood abroad, if he could helpit. Hence he always stated the case to an inquiring patient, after thismanner:

  'Why, my dear sir, with regard to the Anglo-Bengalee, my information,you see, is limited; very limited. I am the medical officer, inconsideration of a certain monthly payment. The labourer is worthy ofhis hire; BIS DAT QUI CITO DAT'--('classical scholar, Jobling!' thinksthe patient, 'well-read man!')--'and I receive it regularly. ThereforeI am bound, so far as my own knowledge goes, to speak well of theestablishment.' ('Nothing can be fairer than Jobling's conduct,' thinksthe patient, who has just paid Jobling's bill himself.) 'If you putany question to me, my dear friend,' says the doctor, 'touching theresponsibility or capital of the company, there I am at fault; for Ihave no head for figures, and not being a shareholder, am delicate ofshowing any curiosity whatever on the subject. Delicacy--youramiable lady will agree with me I am sure--should be one of the firstcharacteristics of a medical man.' ('Nothing can be finer or moregentlemanly than Jobling's feeling,' thinks the patient.) 'Very good,my dear sir, so the matter stands. You don't know Mr Montague? I'm sorryfor it. A remarkably handsome man, and quite the gentleman in everyrespect. Property, I am told, in India. House and everything belongingto him, beautiful. Costly furniture on the most elegant and lavishscale. And pictures, which, even in an anatomical point of view, areperfection. In case you should ever think of doing anything with thecompany, I'll pass you, you may depend upon it. I can conscientiouslyreport you a healthy subject. If I understand any man's constitution, itis yours; and this little indisposition has done him more good,ma'am,' says the doctor, turning to the patient's wife, 'than if he hadswallowed the contents of half the nonsensical bottles in my surgery.For they ARE nonsense--to tell the honest truth, one half of them arenonsense--compared with such a constitution as his!' ('Jobling is themost friendly creature I ever met with in my life,' thinks the patient;'and upon my word and honour, I'll consider of it!')

  'Commission to you, doctor, on four new policies, and a loan thismorning, eh?' said Crimple, looking, when they had finished lunch, oversome papers brought in by the porter. 'Well done!'

  'Jobling, my dear friend,' said Tigg, 'long life to you.'

  'No, no. Nonsense. Upon my word I've no right to draw the commission,'said the doctor, 'I haven't really. It's picking your pocket. I don'trecommend anybody here. I only say what I know. My patients ask me whatI know, and I tell 'em what I know. Nothing else. Caution is my weakside, that's the truth; and always was from a boy. That is,' said thedoctor, filling his glass, 'caution in behalf of other people. Whether Iwould repose confidence in this company myself, if I had not been payingmoney elsewhere for many years--that's quite another question.'

  He tried to look as if there were no doubt about it; but feeling that hedid it but indifferently, changed the theme and praised the wine.

  'Talking of wine,' said the doctor, 'reminds me of one of the finestglasses of light old port I ever drank in my life; and that was at afuneral. You have not seen anything of--of THAT party, Mr Montague, haveyou?' handing him a card.

  'He is not buried, I hope?' said Tigg, as he took it. 'The honour of hiscompany is not requested if he is.'

  'Ha, ha!' laughed the doctor. 'No; not quite. He was honourablyconnected with that very occasion though.'

  'Oh!' said Tigg, smoothing his moustache, as he cast his eyes upon thename. 'I recollect. No. He has not been here.'

  The words were on his lips, when Bullamy entered, and presented a cardto the Medical Officer.

  'Talk of the what's his name--' observed the doctor rising.

  'And he's sure to appear, eh?' said Tigg.

  'Why, no, Mr Montague, no,' returned the doctor. 'We will not say thatin the present case, for this gentleman is very far from it.'

  'So much the better,' retorted Tigg. 'So much the more adaptable to theAnglo-Bengalee. Bullamy, clear the table and take the things out by theother door. Mr Crimple, business.'

  'Shall I introduce him?' asked Jobling.

  'I shall be eternally delighted,' answered Tigg, kissing his hand andsmiling sweetly.

  The doctor disappeared into the outer office, and immediately returnedwith Jonas Chuzzlewit.

  'Mr Montague,' said Jobling. 'Allow me. My friend Mr Chuzzlewit. My dearfriend--our chairman. Now do you know,' he added checking himself withinfinite policy, and looking round with a smile; 'that's a very singularinstance of the force of example. It really is a very remarkableinstance of the force of example. I say OUR chairman. Why do I say ourchairman? Because he is not MY chairman, you know. I have no connectionwith the company, farther than giving them, for a certain fee andreward, my poor opinion as a medical man, precisely as I may give it anyday to Jack Noakes or Tom Styles. Then why do I say our chairman? Simplybecause I hear the phrase constantly repeated about me. Such is theinvoluntary operation of the mental faculty in the imitative biped man.Mr Crimple, I believe you never take snuff? Injudicious. You should.'

  Pending these remarks on the part of the doctor, and the lengthened andsonorous pinch with which he followed them up, Jonas took a seat atthe board; as ungainly a man as ever he has been within the reader'sknowledge. It is too common with all of us, but it is especially inthe nature of a mean mind, to be overawed by fine clothes and finefurniture. They had a very decided influence on Jonas.

  'Now you two gentlemen have business to discuss, I know,' said thedoctor, 'and your time is precious. So is mine; for several lives arewaiting for me in the next room, and I have a round of visits to makeafter--after I have taken 'em. Having had the happiness to introduce youto each other, I may go about my business. Good-bye. But allow me, MrMontague, before I go, to say this of my friend who sits beside you:That gentleman has done more, sir,' rapping his snuff-box solemnly, 'toreconcile me to human nature, than any man alive or dead. Good-bye!'

  With these words Jobling bolted abruptly out of the room, and proceededin his own official department, to impress the lives in waiting with asense of his keen conscientiousness in the discharge of his duty, andthe great difficulty of getting into the Anglo-Bengalee; by feelingtheir pulses, looking at their tongues, listening at their ribs,poking them in the chest, and so forth; though, if he didn't well knowbeforehand that whatever kind of lives they were, the Anglo-Bengaleewould accept them readily, he was far from being the Jobling that hisfriend considered him; and was not the original Jobling, but a spuriousimitation.

  Mr Crimple also departed on the business of the morning; and JonasChuzzlewit and Tigg were left alone.

  'I learn from our friend,' said Tigg, drawing his chair towards Jonaswith a winning ease of manner, 'that you have been thinking--'

  '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 his head that I wascoming here for such or such a purpose, why, that's his lookout. I don'tstand committed by that.'

  Jonas said this offensively enough; for over and above the habitualdistrust of his character, it was in his nature to seek to revengehimself on the fine clothes and the fine furniture, in exact proportionas he had been unable to withstand their influence.

  'If I come here to ask a question or two, and get a document or two toconsider of, I don't bind myself to anything. Let's understand that, youknow,' said Jonas.

  'My dear fellow!' cried Tigg, clapping him on the shoulder, 'I applaudyour frankness. If men like you and I speak openly at first, allpossible misunderstanding is avoided. Why should I disguise what youknow so well, but what the crowd never dream of? We companies are allbirds of prey; mere birds of prey. The only question is, whether inserving our own turn, we can serve yours too; whether in double-lin
ingour own nest, we can put a single living into yours. Oh, you're in oursecret. You're behind the scenes. We'll make a merit of dealing plainlywith you, when we know we can't help it.'

  It was remarked, on the first introduction of Mr Jonas into these pages,that there is a simplicity of cunning no less than a simplicity ofinnocence, and that in all matters involving a faith in knavery, he wasthe most credulous of men. If Mr Tigg had preferred any claim to highand honourable dealing, Jonas would have suspected him though he hadbeen a very model of probity; but when he gave utterance to Jonas's ownthoughts of everything and everybody, Jonas began to feel that he was apleasant fellow, and one to be talked to freely.

  He changed his position in the chair, not for a less awkward, but for amore boastful attitude; and smiling in his miserable conceit rejoined:

  'You an't a bad man of business, Mr Montague. You know how to set aboutit, I WILL say.'

  'Tut, tut,' said Tigg, nodding confidentially, and showing his whiteteeth; 'we are not children, Mr Chuzzlewit; we are grown men, I hope.'

  Jonas assented, and said after a short silence, first spreading out hislegs, and sticking one arm akimbo to show how perfectly at home he was,

  'The truth is--'

  'Don't say, the truth,' interposed Tigg, with another grin. 'It's solike humbug.'

  Greatly charmed by this, Jonas began again.

  'The long and the short of it is--'

  'Better,' muttered Tigg. 'Much better!'

  '--That I didn't consider myself very well used by one or two of the oldcompanies in some negotiations I have had with 'em--once had, I mean.They started objections they had no right to start, and put questionsthey had no right to put, and carried things much too high for mytaste.'

  As he made these observations he cast down his eyes, and lookedcuriously at the carpet. Mr Tigg looked curiously at him.

  He made so long a pause, that Tigg came to the rescue, and said, in hispleasantest manner:

  'Take a glass of wine.'

  'No, no,' returned Jonas, with a cunning shake of the head; 'none ofthat, thankee. No wine over business. All very well for you, but itwouldn't do for me.'

  'What an old hand you are, Mr Chuzzlewit!' said Tigg, leaning back inhis chair, and leering at him through his half-shut eyes.

  Jonas shook his head again, as much as to say, 'You're right there;' Andthen resumed, jocosely:

  'Not such an old hand, either, but that I've been and got married.That's rather green, you'll say. Perhaps it is, especially as she'syoung. But one never knows what may happen to these women, so I'mthinking of insuring her life. It is but fair, you know, that a manshould secure some consolation in case of meeting with such a loss.'

  'If anything can console him under such heart-breaking circumstances,'murmured Tigg, with his eyes shut up as before.

  'Exactly,' returned Jonas; 'if anything can. Now, supposing I did ithere, I should do it cheap, I know, and easy, without bothering herabout it; which I'd much rather not do, for it's just in a woman's wayto take it into her head, if you talk to her about such things, thatshe's going to die directly.'

  'So it is,' cried Tigg, kissing his hand in honour of the sex. 'You'requite right. Sweet, silly, fluttering little simpletons!'

  'Well,' said Jonas, 'on that account, you know, and because offencehas been given me in other quarters, I wouldn't mind patronizing thisCompany. But I want to know what sort of security there is for theCompany's going on. That's the--'

  'Not the truth?' cried Tigg, holding up his jewelled hand. 'Don't usethat Sunday School expression, please!'

  'The long and the short of it,' said Jonas. 'The long and the short ofit is, what's the security?'

  'The paid-up capital, my dear sir,' said Tigg, referring to some paperson the table, 'is, at this present moment--'

  'Oh! I understand all about paid-up capitals, you know,' said Jonas.

  'You do?' cried Tigg, stopping short.

  'I should hope so.'

  He turned the papers down again, and moving nearer to him, said in hisear:

  'I know you do. I know you do. Look at me!'

  It was not much in Jonas's way to look straight at anybody; but thusrequested, he made shift to take a tolerable survey of the chairman'sfeatures. The chairman fell back a little, to give him the betteropportunity.

  'You know me?' he inquired, elevating his eyebrows. 'You recollect?You've seen me before?'

  'Why, I thought I remembered your face when I first came in,' saidJonas, gazing at it; 'but I couldn't call to mind where I had seen it.No. I don't remember, even now. Was it in the street?'

  'Was it in Pecksniff's parlour?' said Tigg

  'In Pecksniff's parlour!' echoed Jonas, fetching a long breath. 'Youdon't mean when--'

  'Yes,' cried Tigg, 'when there was a very charming and delightful littlefamily party, at which yourself and your respected father assisted.'

  'Well, never mind HIM,' said Jonas. 'He's dead, and there's no help forit.'

  'Dead, is he!' cried Tigg, 'Venerable old gentleman, is he dead! You'revery like him.'

  Jonas received this compliment with anything but a good grace, perhapsbecause of his own private sentiments in reference to the personalappearance of his deceased parent; perhaps because he was not bestpleased to find that Montague and Tigg were one. That gentlemanperceived it, and tapping him familiarly on the sleeve, beckoned himto the window. From this moment, Mr Montague's jocularity and flow ofspirits were remarkable.

  'Do you find me at all changed since that time?' he asked. 'Speakplainly.'

  Jonas looked hard at his waistcoat and jewels; and said 'Rather, ecod!'

  'Was I at all seedy in those days?' asked Montague.

  'Precious seedy,' said Jonas.

  Mr Montague pointed down into the street, where Bailey and the cab werein attendance.

  'Neat; perhaps dashing. Do you know whose it is?'

  'No.'

  'Mine. Do you like this room?'

  'It must have cost a lot of money,' said Jonas.

  'You're right. Mine too. Why don't you'--he whispered this, and nudgedhim in the side with his elbow--'why don't you take premiums, instead ofpaying 'em? That's what a man like you should do. Join us!'

  Jonas stared at him in amazement.

  'Is that a crowded street?' asked Montague, calling his attention to themultitude without.

  'Very,' said Jonas, only glancing at it, and immediately afterwardslooking at him again.

  'There are printed calculations,' said his companion, 'which willtell you pretty nearly how many people will pass up and down thatthoroughfare in the course of a day. I can tell you how many of 'em willcome in here, merely because they find this office here; knowing no moreabout it than they do of the Pyramids. Ha, ha! Join us. You shall comein cheap.'

  Jonas looked at him harder and harder.

  'I can tell you,' said Tigg in his ear, 'how many of 'em will buyannuities, effect insurances, bring us their money in a hundred shapesand ways, force it upon us, trust us as if we were the Mint; yet know nomore about us than you do of that crossing-sweeper at the corner. Not somuch. Ha, ha!'

  Jonas gradually broke into a smile.

  'Yah!' said Montague, giving him a pleasant thrust in the breast;'you're too deep for us, you dog, or I wouldn't have told you. Dine withme to-morrow, in Pall Mall!'

  'I will' said Jonas.

  'Done!' cried Montague. 'Wait a bit. Take these papers with you and look'em over. See,' he said, snatching some printed forms from the table. 'Bis a little tradesman, clerk, parson, artist, author, any common thingyou like.'

  'Yes,' said Jonas, looking greedily over his shoulder. 'Well!'

  'B wants a loan. Say fifty or a hundred pound; perhaps more; no matter.B proposes self and two securities. B is accepted. Two securities givea bond. B assures his own life for double the amount, and brings twofriends' lives also--just to patronize the office. Ha ha, ha! Is that agood notion?'

  'Ecod, that's a capital notion!' cried Jonas. 'But does he reall
y doit?'

  'Do it!' repeated the chairman. 'B's hard up, my good fellow, and willdo anything. Don't you see? It's my idea.'

  'It does you honour. I'm blest if it don't,' said Jonas.

  'I think it does,' replied the chairman, 'and I'm proud to hear you sayso. B pays the highest lawful interest--'

  'That an't much,' interrupted Jonas.

  'Right! quite right!' retorted Tigg. 'And hard it is upon the partof the law that it should be so confoundedly down upon us unfortunatevictims; when it takes such amazing good interest for itself from allits clients. But charity begins at home, and justice begins next door.Well! The law being hard upon us, we're not exactly soft upon B; forbesides charging B the regular interest, we get B's premium, and B'sfriends' premiums, and we charge B for the bond, and, whether we accepthim or not, we charge B for "inquiries" (we keep a man, at a pound aweek, to make 'em), and we charge B a trifle for the secretary; and inshort, my good fellow, we stick it into B, up hill and down dale, andmake a devilish comfortable little property out of him. Ha, ha, ha! Idrive B, in point of fact,' said Tigg, pointing to the cabriolet, 'and athoroughbred horse he is. Ha, ha, ha!'

  Jonas enjoyed this joke very much indeed. It was quite in his peculiarvein of humour.

  'Then,' said Tigg Montague, 'we grant annuities on the very lowest andmost advantageous terms known in the money market; and the old ladiesand gentlemen down in the country buy 'em. Ha, ha, ha! And we pay 'emtoo--perhaps. Ha, ha, ha!'

  'But there's responsibility in that,' said Jonas, looking doubtful.

  'I take it all myself,' said Tigg Montague. 'Here I am responsible foreverything. The only responsible person in the establishment! Ha,ha, ha! Then there are the Life Assurances without loans; the commonpolicies. Very profitable, very comfortable. Money down, you know;repeated every year; capital fun!'

  'But when they begin to fall in,' observed Jonas. 'It's all very well,while the office is young, but when the policies begin to die--that'swhat I am thinking of.'

  'At the first start, my dear fellow,' said Montague, 'to show you howcorrect your judgment is, we had a couple of unlucky deaths that broughtus down to a grand piano.'

  'Brought you down where?' cried Jonas.

  'I give you my sacred word of honour,' said Tigg Montague, 'that Iraised money on every other individual piece of property, and was leftalone in the world with a grand piano. And it was an upright-grand too,so that I couldn't even sit upon it. But, my dear fellow, we got overit. We granted a great many new policies that week (liberal allowanceto solicitors, by the bye), and got over it in no time. Whenever theyshould chance to fall in heavily, as you very justly observe they may,one of these days; then--' he finished the sentence in so low a whisper,that only one disconnected word was audible, and that imperfectly. Butit sounded like 'Bolt.'

  'Why, you're as bold as brass!' said Jonas, in the utmost admiration.

  'A man can well afford to be as bold as brass, my good fellow, when hegets gold in exchange!' cried the chairman, with a laugh that shook himfrom head to foot. 'You'll dine with me to-morrow?'

  'At what time?' asked Jonas.

  'Seven. Here's my card. Take the documents. I see you'll join us!'

  'I don't know about that,' said Jonas. 'There's a good deal to be lookedinto first.'

  'You shall look,' said Montague, slapping him on the back, 'intoanything and everything you please. But you'll join us, I am convinced.You were made for it. Bullamy!'

  Obedient to the summons and the little bell, the waistcoat appeared.Being charged to show Jonas out, it went before; and the voice within itcried, as usual, 'By your leave there, by your leave! Gentleman from theboard-room, by your leave!'

  Mr Montague being left alone, pondered for some moments, and then said,raising his voice:

  'Is Nadgett in the office there?'

  'Here he is, sir.' And he promptly entered; shutting the board-room doorafter him, as carefully as if he were about to plot a murder.

  He was the man at a pound a week who made the inquiries. It was novirtue or merit in Nadgett that he transacted all his Anglo-Bengaleebusiness secretly and in the closest confidence; for he was born to bea secret. He was a short, dried-up, withered old man, who seemed to havesecreted his very blood; for nobody would have given him credit for thepossession of six ounces of it in his whole body. How he lived was asecret; where he lived was a secret; and even what he was, was a secret.In his musty old pocket-book he carried contradictory cards, in some ofwhich he called himself a coal-merchant, in others a wine-merchant,in others a commission-agent, in others a collector, in others anaccountant; as if he really didn't know the secret himself. He wasalways keeping appointments in the City, and the other man never seemedto come. He would sit on 'Change for hours, looking at everybody whowalked in and out, and would do the like at Garraway's, and in otherbusiness coffee-rooms, in some of which he would be occasionally seendrying a very damp pocket-handkerchief before the fire, and stilllooking over his shoulder for the man who never appeared. He wasmildewed, threadbare, shabby; always had flue upon his legs and back;and kept his linen so secretly buttoning up and wrapping over, that hemight have had none--perhaps he hadn't. He carried one stained beaverglove, which he dangled before him by the forefinger as he walked orsat; but even its fellow was a secret. Some people said he had been abankrupt, others that he had gone an infant into an ancient Chancerysuit which was still depending, but it was all a secret. He carried bitsof sealing-wax and a hieroglyphical old copper seal in his pocket, andoften secretly indited letters in corner boxes of the trysting-placesbefore mentioned; but they never appeared to go to anybody, for he wouldput them into a secret place in his coat, and deliver them to himselfweeks afterwards, very much to his own surprise, quite yellow. He wasthat sort of man that if he had died worth a million of money, or haddied worth twopence halfpenny, everybody would have been perfectlysatisfied, and would have said it was just as they expected. And yethe belonged to a class; a race peculiar to the City; who are secrets asprofound to one another, as they are to the rest of mankind.

  'Mr Nadgett,' said Montague, copying Jonas Chuzzlewit's address upon apiece of paper, from the card which was still lying on the table, 'anyinformation about this name, I shall be glad to have myself. Don't youmind what it is. Any you can scrape together, bring me. Bring it to me,Mr Nadgett.'

  Nadgett put on his spectacles, and read the name attentively; thenlooked at the chairman over his glasses, and bowed; then took them off,and put them in their case; and then put the case in his pocket. When hehad done so, he looked, without his spectacles, at the paper as it laybefore him, and at the same time produced his pocket-book from somewhereabout the middle of his spine. Large as it was, it was very full ofdocuments, but he found a place for this one; and having clasped itcarefully, passed it by a kind of solemn legerdemain into the sameregion as before.

  He withdrew with another bow and without a word; opening the doorno wider than was sufficient for his passage out; and shutting it ascarefully as before. The chairman of the board employed the rest of themorning in affixing his sign-manual of gracious acceptance to variousnew proposals of annuity-purchase and assurance. The Company was lookingup, for they flowed in gayly.