Back to: Dickens A Christmas Carol and the Bible
Scene 2. Obscure part of town- 3 thieves
They left the busy scene, and went into an obscure part of the town, where Scrooge had never penetrated before, although he recognised its situation, and its bad repute. The ways were foul and narrow; the shops and houses wretched; the people half-naked, drunken, slipshod, ugly. Alleys and archways, like so many cesspools, disgorged their offences of smell, and dirt, and life, upon the straggling streets; and the whole quarter reeked with crime, with filth, and misery.
[expand title=”1 Symbolic Hell on earth” trigclass=”specialclass1″]
Having raised the specter of “Old Scratch,” Dickens spares Scrooge (and the reader) a visit to the literal hell, descending instead to this symbolic hell-on-earth
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Far in this den of infamous resort, there was a low-browed, beetling shop, below a pent-house roof, where iron, old rags, bottles, bones, and greasy offal, were bought. Upon the floor within, were piled up heaps of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights, and refuse iron of all kinds. Secrets that few would like to scrutinise were bred and hidden in mountains of unseemly rags, masses of corrupted fat, and sepulchres of bones. Sitting in among the wares he dealt in, by a charcoal stove, made of old bricks, was a grey-haired rascal, nearly seventy years of age; who had screened himself from the cold air without, by a frousy curtaining of miscellaneous tatters, hung upon a line; and smoked his pipe in all the luxury of calm retirement.
Scrooge and the Phantom came into the presence of this man, just as a woman with a heavy bundle slunk into the shop. But she had scarcely entered, when another woman, similarly laden, came in too; and she was closely followed by a man in faded black, who was no less startled by the sight of them, than they had been upon the recognition of each other. After a short period of blank astonishment, in which the old man with the pipe had joined them, they all three burst into a laugh.
[expand title=”2 The Three Thieves” trigclass=”specialclass1″]
->These three thieves are a grotesque parody of the three kings of the Christmas story particularly in regard to the “charwoman” (house servant) and the “undertaker’s man”—instead of heaven, they seem inspired by hell; instead of coming for a birth, they come from a death; and instead of gifts, they bear stolen items.
.” A dead body lies covered behind a curtain, attended by four people, two women and two men. The place is a morgue, but their attendance has no reverence; they are laughing with disrespect, tainted by the ugly spirit of revenge. It becomes clear from the conversation that reverence is not intended.
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‘Let the charwoman alone to be the first.’ cried she who had entered first. ‘Let the laundress alone to be the second; and let the undertaker’s man alone to be the third. Look here, old Joe, here’s a chance. If we haven’t all three met here without meaning it.’
‘You couldn’t have met in a better place,’ said old Joe, removing his pipe from his mouth. ‘Come into the parlour. You were made free of it long ago, you know; and the other two an’t strangers. Stop till I shut the door of the shop. Ah. How it skreeks. There an’t such a rusty bit of metal in the place as its own hinges, I believe; and I’m sure there’s no such old bones here, as mine. Ha, ha. We’re all suitable to our calling, we’re well matched. Come into the parlour. Come into the parlour.’
The parlour was the space behind the screen of rags. The old man raked the fire together with an old stair-rod, and having trimmed his smoky lamp (for it was night), with the stem of his pipe, put it in his mouth again.
While he did this, the woman who had already spoken threw her bundle on the floor, and sat down in a flaunting manner on a stool; crossing her elbows on her knees, and looking with a bold defiance at the other two.
‘What odds then. What odds, Mrs Dilber.’ said the woman. ‘Every person has a right to take care of themselves. He always did.’
‘That’s true, indeed.’ said the laundress. ‘No man more so.’
‘Why then, don’t stand staring as if you was afraid, woman; who’s the wiser. We’re not going to pick holes in each other’s coats, I suppose.’
‘No, indeed.’ said Mrs Dilber and the man together. ‘We should hope not.’
‘Very well, then.’ cried the woman. ‘That’s enough. Who’s the worse for the loss of a few things like these. Not a dead man, I suppose.’
‘No, indeed,’ said Mrs Dilber, laughing.
‘If he wanted to keep them after he was dead, a wicked old screw,’ pursued the woman,’ why wasn’t he natural in his lifetime. If he had been, he’d have had somebody to look after him when he was struck with Death, instead of lying gasping out his last there, alone by himself.’
[expand title=”3 Women who plunder” trigclass=”specialclass1″]
Both women use the sinful behavior of the dead man to justify the sinful behavior of stealing from him—as Dickens dramatizes the old axiom “two wrongs do not make a right
These are not mourners but plunderers of the body, scavengers of the dead. Scrooge, feeling more terror than he can express, thinks he understands the import of what he is witnessing: This scene might be a foreshadowing of his own end. At this point in his spiritual journey, Scrooge has developed some compassionate impulses toward others in need. He is moved by his observation that no one has any feeling for the dead man and expresses a wish that someone somewhere could be found who could produce some emotion, any emotion about him. Scrooge’s wish is granted.
He is brought to view a scene where an older couple is contemplating how they will fare after a man to whom they are indebted has died. The only positive emotion in the scene is the relief felt by the couple that a more understanding lender will take over the debt.
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‘It’s the truest word that ever was spoke,’ said Mrs Dilber. ‘It’s a judgment on him.’
‘I wish it was a little heavier judgment,’ replied the woman;’ and it should have been, you may depend upon it, if I could have laid my hands on anything else. Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak out plain. I’m not afraid to be the first, nor afraid for them to see it. We know pretty well that we were helping ourselves, before we met here, I believe. It’s no sin. Open the bundle, Joe.’
But the gallantry of her friends would not allow of this; and the man in faded black, mounting the breach first, produced his plunder. It was not extensive. A seal or two, a pencil-case, a pair of sleeve-buttons, and a brooch of no great value, were all. They were severally examined and appraised by old Joe, who chalked the sums he was disposed to give for each, upon the wall, and added them up into a total when he found there was nothing more to come.
‘That’s your account,’ said Joe,’ and I wouldn’t give another sixpence, if I was to be boiled for not doing it. Who’s next.’
Mrs Dilber was next. Sheets and towels, a little wearing apparel, two old-fashioned silver teaspoons, a pair of sugar-tongs, and a few boots. Her account was stated on the wall in the same manner.
‘I always give too much to ladies. It’s a weakness of mine, and that’s the way I ruin myself,’ said old Joe. ‘That’s your account. If you asked me for another penny, and made it an open question, I’d repent of being so liberal and knock off half-a-crown.’
[expand title=”4 The Second Woman” trigclass=”specialclass1″]
While the first woman’s use of judgment was at least sincere, the second woman uses the concept as a pun for her stolen articles, showing disregard for the judgment of either God or man.
Repent, along with judgment and sin, is the third religious word used for sacrilegious actions, as Dickens continues his hellish parody
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‘And now undo my bundle, Joe,’ said the first woman.
Joe went down on his knees for the greater convenience of opening it, and having unfastened a great many knots, dragged out a large and heavy roll of some dark stuff.
‘What do you call this.’ said Joe. ‘Bed-curtains.’
‘Ah.’ returned the woman, laughing and leaning forward on her crossed arms. ‘Bed-curtains.’
‘You don’t mean to say you took them down, rings and all, with him lying there.’ said Joe.
‘Yes I do,’ replied the woman. ‘Why not.’
‘You were born to make your fortune,’ said Joe,’ and you’ll certainly do it.’
‘I certainly shan’t hold my hand, when I can get anything in it by reaching it out, for the sake of such a man as he was, I promise you, Joe,’ returned the woman coolly. ‘Don’t drop that oil upon the blankets, now.’
‘His blankets.’ asked Joe.
‘Whose else’s do you think.’ replied the woman. ‘He isn’t likely to take cold without them, I dare say.’
‘I hope he didn’t die of any thing catching. Eh.’ said old Joe, stopping in his work, and looking up.
‘Don’t you be afraid of that,’ returned the woman. ‘I an’t so fond of his company that I’d loiter about him for such things, if he did. Ah. you may look through that shirt till your eyes ache; but you won’t find a hole in it, nor a threadbare place. It’s the best he had, and a fine one too. They’d have wasted it, if it hadn’t been for me.’
‘What do you call wasting of it.’ asked old Joe.
‘Putting it on him to be buried in, to be sure,’ replied the woman with a laugh. ‘Somebody was fool enough to do it, but I took it off again. If calico an’t good enough for such a purpose, it isn’t good enough for anything. It’s quite as becoming to the body. He can’t look uglier than he did in that one.’
Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror. As they sat grouped about their spoil, in the scanty light afforded by the old man’s lamp, he viewed them with a detestation and disgust, which could hardly have been greater, though the demons, marketing the corpse itself.
‘Ha, ha.’ laughed the same woman, when old Joe, producing a flannel bag with money in it, told out their several gains upon the ground. ‘This is the end of it, you see. He frightened every one away from him when he was alive, to profit us when he was dead. Ha, ha, ha.’
‘Spirit.’ said Scrooge, shuddering from head to foot. ‘I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way, now. Merciful Heaven, what is this.’
He recoiled in terror, for the scene had changed, and now he almost touched a bed: a bare, uncurtained bed: on which, beneath a ragged sheet, there lay a something covered up, which, though it was dumb, announced itself in awful language.
The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any accuracy, though Scrooge glanced round it in obedience to a secret impulse, anxious to know what kind of room it was. A pale light, rising in the outer air, fell straight upon the bed; and on it, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept, uncared for, was the body of this man.
[expand title=”5 Scrooge is ready for change” trigclass=”specialclass1″]
In Scrooge’s fear he has become teachable. He is beginning to understand that lessons of Advent, though harsh on his ears, they are meant “to do him good.” He goes willingly with the Spirit and repentance begins to take toot in Scrooge’s heart. Hear Scrooge’s pain at the emptiness of his life when shown his vain end while he stands beside a corpse that might be himself. He sees where the greedy path of his life is leading him. There is no hope in the picture, and the possibility of Scrooge changing things seems absent.
Notice that Scrooge is ready for a change. He fears the messenger’s message, but is ready to be led into repentance.
Notice, it is the assurance of “good intent” of the Spirit that disarms Scrooge. Oh if we would only realize the fullness of God’s heart for us, His good intent for us, how much easier would it be for us to bear the messages of correction that He has for us in scripture.
Scrooge is not satisfied; he wishes to summon someone to the scene who might have felt some tenderness, might have a single good word to say about the deceased.
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Scrooge glanced towards the Phantom. Its steady hand was pointed to the head. The cover was so carelessly adjusted that the slightest raising of it, the motion of a finger upon Scrooge’s part, would have disclosed the face. He thought of it, felt how easy it would be to do, and longed to do it; but had no more power to withdraw the veil than to dismiss the spectre at his side.
Oh cold, cold, rigid, dreadful Death, set up thine altar here, and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thy command: for this is thy dominion. But of the loved, revered, and honoured head, thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes, or make one feature odious. It is not that the hand is heavy and will fall down when released; it is not that the heart and pulse are still; but that the hand was open, generous, and true; the heart brave, warm, and tender; and the pulse a man’s. Strike, Shadow, strike. And see his good deeds springing from the wound, to sow the world with life immortal.
[expand title=”6 Dickens considers death” trigclass=”specialclass1″]
At the site of the morgue, Dickens chooses to remind the reader of one of the messages in Fred’s reflection on the meaning of Christmas. Death makes all of us “fellow passengers to the grave”; our deeds in life make for our immortality after death and represent the divine triumph over death. Dickens addresses death:
While Scrooge ponders the hope of repentance and change, he is led to the vision of the consequences of his present behavior. Scripture is unapologetic when it teaches us that there are serious consequences for unrepentant sin. One of them is ruined life that leads to a premature death.
->“For when we were controlled by the sinful nature,’ the sinful passions aroused by the law were at work in our bodies, so that we bore fruit for death.” Romans 7:5
If we live only for ourselves, we die alone. If we refuse the redemptive touch of repentance, we face the reality of the changeless death of judgment.
Now Scrooge finally sees death from Marley’s perspective. Through this proclamation he can finally feel the grief of his own sin. In this vision death is not eternal rest with God; it is eternal unrest, knowing that your life was wasted because you were chained by your own fear and greed of your own survival. In this horrible vision, death is a place where repentance is no longer possible.
From the grave Scrooge can no longer raise his voice against injustice or aid the afflicted. As a cold corpse, Scrooge cannot change the course of his life or change the course of this world in his “small sphere of influence”. Scrooge can no longer comfort the suffering he has caused or remedy relationships he has neglected. After Scrooge leaves this earth, he has left his legacy. Scrooge has no one to grieve him, because he inspired no one to love him. Worst, Scrooge’s legacy will not inspire anyone to faith or love for anyone or anything. He lived completely for himself and now in his death he leaves no echo or legacy behind to inspire others.
In this same vision Scrooge is given a glance of Tiny Tim’s future and unfortunate end, Scrooge ponders how Tiny Tim will be remembered and the great legacy this young boy leaves behind with the people he loved.
Dickens suggests that the tragedy of a death is not simply in the loss of the life but the loss of any continued good deeds that life held.
Perhaps this wish functions in Scrooge as an unconscious gesture toward self respect or even self-love. Such an instinct is an essential piece of self-healing.
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No voice pronounced these words in Scrooge’s ears, and yet he heard them when he looked upon the bed. He thought, if this man could be raised up now, what would be his foremost thoughts. Avarice, hard-dealing, griping cares. They have brought him to a rich end, truly.