If there had never been a telescope in the world, I should have been quite certain from my observation of you, Chiv, that there were spots on the sun! I wish I may die, if this isn′t the queerest state of existence that we find ourselves forced into without knowing why or wherefore, Mr Pecksniff! Well, never mind! Moralise as we will, the world goes on. As Hamlet says, Hercules may lay about him with his club in every possible direction, but he can′t prevent the cats from making a most intolerable row on the roofs of the houses, or the dogs from being shot in the hot weather if they run about the streets unmuzzled. Life′s a riddle; a most infernally hard riddle to guess, Mr Pecksniff. My own opinions, that like that celebrated conundrum, "Why′s a man in jail like a man out of jail?" there′s no answer to it. Upon my soul and body, it′s the queerest sort of thing altogether—but there′s no use in talking about it. Ha! Ha!′
With which consolatory deduction from the gloomy premises recited, Mr Tigg roused himself by a great effort, and proceeded in his former strain.
′Now I′ll tell you what it is. I′m a most confoundedly soft-hearted kind of fellow in my way, and I cannot stand by, and see you two blades cutting each other′s throats when there′s nothing to be got by it. Mr Pecksniff, you′re the cousin of the testator upstairs and we′re the nephew—I say we, meaning Chiv. Perhaps in all essential points you are more nearly related to him than we are. Very good. If so, so be it. But you can′t get at him, neither can we. I give you my brightest word of honour, sir, that I′ve been looking through that keyhole with short intervals of rest, ever since nine o′clock this morning, in expectation of receiving an answer to one of the most moderate and gentlemanly applications for a little temporary assistance—only fifteen pounds, and MY security—that the mind of man can conceive. In the meantime, sir, he is perpetually closeted with, and pouring his whole confidence into the bosom of, a stranger. Now I say decisively with regard to this state of circumstances, that it won′t do; that it won′t act; that it can′t be; and that it must not be suffered to continue.′
′Every man,′ said Mr Pecksniff, ′has a right, an undoubted right, (which I, for one, would not call in question for any earthly consideration; oh no!) to regulate his own proceedings by his own likings and dislikings, supposing they are not immoral and not irreligious. I may feel in my own breast, that Mr Chuzzlewit does not regard—me, for instance; say me—with exactly that amount of Christian love which should subsist between us. I may feel grieved and hurt at the circumstance; still I may not rush to the conclusion that Mr Chuzzlewit is wholly without a justification in all his coldnesses. Heaven forbid! Besides; how, Mr Tigg,′ continued Pecksniff even more gravely and impressively than he had spoken yet, ′how could Mr Chuzzlewit be prevented from having these peculiar and most extraordinary confidences of which you speak; the existence of which I must admit; and which I cannot but deplore—for his sake? Consider, my good sir—′ and here Mr Pecksniff eyed him wistfully—′how very much at random you are talking.′
′Why, as to that,′ rejoined Tigg, ′it certainly is a difficult question.′
′Undoubtedly it is a difficult question,′ Mr Pecksniff answered. As he spoke he drew himself aloft, and seemed to grow more mindful, suddenly, of the moral gulf between himself and the creature he addressed. ′Undoubtedly it is a very difficult question. And I am far from feeling sure that it is a question any one is authorized to discuss. Good evening to you.
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