A Christmas Carol/Source/Stave 1: Difference between revisions

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span style="font-variant:small-caps">Marley</span> was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don't know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnised it with an undoubted bargain. The mention of Marley's funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet's father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot -- say Saint Paul's Churchyard for instance -- literally to astonish his son's weak mind.

"A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!", cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge's nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach.

"Bah!", said Scrooge. "Humbug!"

"Christmas a humbug, uncle?", said Scrooge's nephew. "You don't mean that, I am sure?"

"I do"," said Scrooge. "'Merry Christmas'! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough."

"Come, then"," returned the nephew gaily. "What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough."

Scrooge, having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said "Bah!" again and followed it up with "Humbug!".

"Don't be cross, uncle!", said the nephew.

"What else can I be"," returned the uncle, "when I live in such a world of fools as this? Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas! What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in 'em through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? If I could work my will"," said Scrooge indignantly, "every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!"

"Uncle!", pleaded the nephew.

"Nephew!", returned the uncle sternly. "Keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine."

"Keep it!", repeated Scrooge's nephew. "But you don't keep it."

"Let me leave it alone, then"," said Scrooge. "Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!"

"There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say"," returned the nephew. "Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round&mdash;apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that&mdash;as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut–up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow–passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it ''has'' done me good, and ''will'' do me good; and I say, God bless it!"

"Let me hear another sound from ''you''"," said Scrooge, "and you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation! You're quite a powerful speaker, sir"," he added, turning to his nephew. "I wonder you don't go into Parliament."

"But why?", cried Scrooge's nephew. "Why?"

"Why did you get married?", said Scrooge.

"Because you fell in love!", growled Scrooge, as if that were the only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. "Good afternoon!"

"Good afternoon"," said Scrooge.

"Good afternoon"," said Scrooge.

"Good afternoon!", said Scrooge.

"Good afternoon!", said Scrooge.

"There's another fellow"," muttered Scrooge; who overheard him: "My clerk, with fifteen shillings a week, and a wife and family, talking about a merry Christmas. I'll retire to Bedlam."

"Scrooge and Marley's, I believe"," said one of the gentlemen, referring to his list. "Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Scrooge or Mr. Marley?"

"Mr. Marley has been dead these seven years"," Scrooge replied. "He died seven years ago, this very night."

"We have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving partner"," said the gentleman, presenting his credentials.

"At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge"," said the gentleman, taking up a pen, "it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir."

"Are there no prisons?", asked Scrooge.

"Plenty of prisons"," said the gentleman, laying down the pen again.

"And the Union workhouses?", demanded Scrooge. "Are they still in operation?"

"They are. Still"," returned the gentleman, "I wish I could say they were not."

"The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?", said Scrooge.

"Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course"," said Scrooge. "I'm very glad to hear it."

"Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude"," returned the gentleman, "a few of us are endeavouring to raise a fund to buy the poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. We choose this time, because it is a time, of all others, when want is keenly felt, and abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for?"

"Nothing!", Scrooge replied.

"I wish to be left alone"," said Scrooge. "Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned&mdash;they cost enough; and those who are badly off must go there."

"If they would rather die"," said Scrooge, "they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population. Besides&mdash;excuse me&mdash;I don't know that."

"But you might know it"," observed the gentleman.

"You'll want all day tomorrow, I suppose?", said Scrooge.

"It’s not convenient"," said Scrooge, "and it's not fair. If I was to stop you half–a–crown for it, you'd think yourself ill–used, I'll be bound?"

"And yet"," said Scrooge, "you don't think ''me'' ill–used, when I pay a day's wages for no work."

"A poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every twenty–fifth of December!", said Scrooge, buttoning his great–coat to the chin. "But I suppose you must have the whole day. Be here all the earlier next morning."

"It's humbug still!", said Scrooge. "I won't believe it."

"Who ''were'' you then?", said Scrooge, raising his voice. "You're particular, for a shade." He was going to say "''to'' a shade", but substituted this, as more appropriate.

"Can you&mdash;can you sit down?", asked Scrooge, looking doubtfully at him.

"You don't believe in me"," observed the Ghost.

"I don't"," said Scrooge.

"I don't know"," said Scrooge.

"You see this toothpick?", said Scrooge, returning quickly to the charge, for the reason just assigned; and wishing, though it were only for a second, to divert the vision's stony gaze from himself.

"I do"," replied the Ghost.

"But I see it"," said the Ghost, "notwithstanding."

"Well!", returned Scrooge. "I have but to swallow this, and be for the rest of my days persecuted by a legion of goblins, all of my own creation. Humbug, I tell you! humbug!"

"Mercy!", he said. "Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?"

"Man of the worldly mind!", replied the Ghost. "Do you believe in me or not?"

"I do"," said Scrooge. "I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?"

"It is required of every man"," the Ghost returned, "that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellowmen, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world&mdash;oh, woe is me!&mdash;and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!"

"You are fettered"," said Scrooge, trembling. "Tell me why?"

"I wear the chain I forged in life"," replied the Ghost. "I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to ''you''?"

"Or would you know"," pursued the Ghost, "the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was full as heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have laboured on it, since. It is a ponderous chain!"

"Jacob"," he said, imploringly. "Old Jacob Marley, tell me more. Speak comfort to me, Jacob!"

"I have none to give"," the Ghost replied. "It comes from other regions, Ebenezer Scrooge, and is conveyed by other ministers, to other kinds of men. Nor can I tell you what I would. A very little more is all permitted to me. I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere. My spirit never walked beyond our counting–house&mdash;mark me!&mdash;in life my spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money–changing hole; and weary journeys lie before me!"

"You must have been very slow about it, Jacob"," Scrooge observed, in a business–like manner, though with humility and deference.

"Slow!", the Ghost repeated.

"Seven years dead"," mused Scrooge. "And travelling all the time!"

"The whole time"," said the Ghost. "No rest, no peace. Incessant torture of remorse."

"You travel fast?", said Scrooge.

"On the wings of the wind"," replied the Ghost.

"You might have got over a great quantity of ground in seven years"," said Scrooge.

"Oh, captive, bound, and double–ironed"," cried the phantom, "not to know, that ages of incessant labour by immortal creatures, for this earth must pass into eternity before the good of which it is susceptible is all developed. Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused! Yet such was I! Oh! such was I!"

"But you were always a good man of business, Jacob"," faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself.

"Business!", cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. "Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!"

"At this time of the rolling year"," the spectre said, "I suffer most. Why did I walk through crowds of fellow–beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode! Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted ''me''!"

"Hear me!", cried the Ghost. "My time is nearly gone."

"I will"," said Scrooge. "But don't be hard upon me! Don't be flowery, Jacob! Pray!"

"That is no light part of my penance"," pursued the Ghost. "I am here tonight to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Ebenezer."

"You were always a good friend to me"," said Scrooge. "Thank'ee!"

"Is that the chance and hope you mentioned, Jacob?", he demanded, in a faltering voice.

"I&mdash;I think I'd rather not"," said Scrooge.

"Without their visits"," said the Ghost, "you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls one."

"Couldn't I take 'em all at once, and have it over, Jacob?", hinted Scrooge.