The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When itcame, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in the very airthrough which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom andmystery.

It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed itshead, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible saveone outstretched hand. But for this it would have beendifficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate itfrom the darkness by which it was surrounded.

He felt that it was tall and stately when it came besidehim, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemndread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke normoved.

``I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet ToCome?'' said Scrooge.

The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand.

``You are about to show me shadows of the things that havenot happened, but will happen in the time before us,''Scrooge pursued. ``Is that so, Spirit?''

The upper portion of the garment was contracted for aninstant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head.That was the only answer he received.

Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scroogefeared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneathhim, and he found that he could hardly stand when he preparedto follow it. The Spirit paused a moment, as observing hiscondition, and giving him time to recover.

But Scrooge was all the worse for this. It thrilled himwith a vague uncertain horror, to know that behind the duskyshroud, there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him, whilehe, though he stretched his own to the utmost,could see nothing but a spectral hand and one great heap ofblack.

``Ghost of the Future!'' he exclaimed, ``I fear you morethan any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose si todo me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what Iwas, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with athankful heart. Will you not speak to me?''

It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight beforethem.

``Lead on!'' said Scrooge. ``Lead on! The night iswaning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on,Spirit!''

The Phantom moved away as it had come towards him. Scroogefollowed in the shadow of its dress, which bore him up, hethought, and carried him along.

They scarcely seemed to enter the city; for the city ratherseemed to spring up about them, and encompass them of its ownact. But there they were, in the heart of it; on Change,amongst the merchants; who hurried up and down, and chinked

The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of business men.Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Scrooge advancedto listen to their talk.

``No,'' said a great fat man with a monstrous chin, ``Idon't know much about it, either way. I only know he'sdead.''

``When did he die?'' inquired another.

``Last night, I believe.''

``Why, what was the matter with him?'' asked a third,taking a vast quantity of snuff out of a very large snuff-box.``I thought he'd never die.''

``God knows,'' said the first, with a yawn.

``What has he done with his money?'' asked a red-facedgentleman with a pendulous excrescence on the end of his nose,that shook like the gills of a turkey-cock.

``I haven't heard,'' said the man with the large chin,yawning again. ``Left it to his Company, perhaps.He hasn't left it to

This pleasantry was received with a general laugh.

``It's likely to be a very cheap funeral,'' said the samespeaker; ``for upon my life I don't know of anybody to go toit. Suppose we make up a party and volunteer?''

``I don't mind going if a lunch is provided,'' observedthe gentleman with the excrescence on his nose. ``But I mustbe fed, if I make one.''

Another laugh.

``Well, I am the most disinterested among you, afterall,'' said the first speaker, ``for I never wear blackgloves, and I never eat lunch. But I'll offer to go, ifanybody else will. When I come to think of it, I'm not at allsure that I wasn't his most particular friend; for we used tostop and speak whenever we met. Bye, bye!''

Speakers and listeners strolled away, and mixed with othergroups.Scrooge knew the men, and looked towards the Spirit for anexplanation.

The Phantom glided on into a street. Its fingerpointed to two persons meeting. Scrooge listened again,thinking that the explanation might lie here.

He knew these men, also, perfectly. They were men ofbusiness: very wealthy, and of great importance. He had made apoint always of standing well in their esteem: in a businesspoint of view, that is; strictly in a business point of view.

``How are you?'' said one.

``How are you?'' returned the other.

``Well!'' said the first. ``Old Scratch has got his ownat last, hey?''

``So I am told,'' returned the second. ``Cold, isn'tit?''

``Seasonable for Christmas time. You're not a skaiter, Isuppose?''

``No. No. Something else to think of. Good morning!''

Not another word. That was their meeting, theirconversation, and their parting.

Scrooge was at first inclined to be surprised that theSpirit should attach importance to conversations apparently sotrivial; but feeling assured that they must havesome hidden purpose, he set himself to consider what it waslikely to be. They could scarcely be supposed to have anybearing on the death of Jacob, his old partner, for that wasPast, and this Ghost's province was the Future. Nor could hethink of any one immediately connected with himself, to whom hecould apply them. But nothing doubting that to whomsoever theyapplied they had some latent moral for his own improvement, heresolved to treasure up every word he heard, and everything hesaw; and especially to observe the shadow of himself when itappeared. For he had an expectation that the conduct of hisfuture self would give him the clue he missed, and would renderthe solution of these riddles easy.

He looked about in that very place for his own image; butanother man stood in his accustomed corner, and though theclock pointed to his usual time of day for being there, he sawno likeness of himself among the multitudes that poured inthrough the Porch. It gave him little surprise,however; for he had been revolving in his mind a change oflife, and thought and hoped he saw his new-born resolutionscarried out in this.

Quiet and dark, beside him stood the Phantom, with itsoutstretched hand. When he roused himself from his thoughtfulquest, he fancied from the turn of the hand, and its situationin reference to himself, that the Unseen Eyes were looking athim keenly. It made him shudder, and feel very cold.

They left the busy scene, and went into an obscure part ofthe town, where Scrooge had never penetrated before, althoughhe recognised its situation, and its bad repute. The ways werefoul and narrow; the shops and houses wretched; the peoplehalf-naked, drunken, slipshod, ugly. Alleys and archways, likeso many cesspools, disgorged their offences of smell, and dirt,and life, upon the straggling streets; and the whole quarterreeked with crime, with filth, and misery.

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. Uponthe floor within, were piled up heaps of rusty keys, nails,chains, hinges, files, scales, weights, and refuse iron of allkinds. Secrets that few would like to scrutinise were bred andhidden in mountains of unseemly rags, masses of corrupted fat,and sepulchres of bones. Sitting in among the wares he dealtin, by a charcoal stove, made of old bricks, was a grey-hairedrascal, nearly seventy years of age; who had screened himselffrom the cold air without, by a frousy curtaining ofmiscellaneous tatters, hung upon a line; and smoked his pipe inall 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. Butshe had scarcely entered, when another woman, similarly laden,came in too; and she was closely followed by a man in fadedblack, who was no less startled by the sight of them, than theyhad been upon the recognition of each other. After a shortperiod of blank astonishment, in which the old manwith the pipe had joined them, they all three burst into alaugh.

``Let the charwoman alone to be the first!'' cried shewho had entered first. ``Let the laundress alone to be thesecond; and let the undertaker's man alone to be the third. Look here, old Joe, here's a chance! If we haven't all threemet here without meaning it!''

``You couldn't have met in a better place,'' said oldJoe, removing his pipe from his mouth. ``Come into theparlour. You were made free of it long ago, you know; and theother two an't strangers. Stop till I shut the door of theshop. Ah! How it skreeks! There an't such a rusty bit ofmetal in the place as its own hinges, I believe; and I'm surethere's no such old bones here, as mine. Ha, ha! We're allsuitable to our calling, we're well matched. Come into theparlour. Come into the parlour.''

The parlour was the space behind the screen of rags. Theold man raked the fire together with an old stair-rod, andhaving 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 threwher bundle on the floor, and sat down in a flaunting manner ona stool; crossing her elbows on her knees, and looking with abold defiance at the other two.

``What odds then! What odds, Mrs Dilber?'' said thewoman. ``Every person has a right to take care of themselves.

``That's true, indeed!'' said the laundress. ``No manmore 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 eachother'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 adead man, I suppose.''

``No, indeed!'' said Mrs Dilber, laughing.

``If he wanted to keep 'em after he was dead, a wicked oldscrew,'' pursued the woman, ``why wasn't he natural in hislifetime? If he had been, he'd have had somebody to look afterhim when he was struck with Death, instead of lying gasping outhis last there, alone by himself.''

``It's the truest word that ever was spoke,'' said MrsDilber.``It's a judgment on him.''

``I wish it was a little heavier judgment,'' replied thewoman; ``and it should have been, you may depend upon it, if Icould 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 wemet 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

``That's your account,'' said Joe, ``and I wouldn't giveanother sixpence, if I was to be boiled for not doing it. Who'snext?''

Mrs Dilber was next. Sheets and towels, a little wearingapparel, two old-fashioned silver teaspoons, a pair ofsugar-tongs, and a few boots. Her account was stated on thewall in the same manner.

``I always give too much to ladies. It's a weakness ofmine, and that's the way I ruin myself,'' said old Joe. ``That's your account. If you asked me for another penny, andmade it an open question, I'd repent of being so liberal andknock off half-a-crown.''

``And now undo

Joe went down on his knees for the greater convenience ofopening it, and having unfastened a great manyknots, 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 forwardon 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 anythingin it by reaching it out, for the sake of such a man as He was,I promise you, Joe,'' returned the woman coolly. ``don'tdrop that oil upon the blankets, now.''

``His blankets?'' asked Joe.

``Whose else's do you think?'' replied the woman. ``Heisn't likely to take cold without 'em, 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 forsuch things, if he did. Ah! you may look through that shirttill your eyes ache; but you won't find a hole in it, nor athreadbare 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 todo it, but I took it off again. If calico an't good enough forsuch a purpose, it isn't good enough for anything. It's quiteas becoming to the body. He can't look uglier than he did inthat one.''

Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror. As they satgrouped about their spoil, in the scanty light afforded by theold man's lamp, he viewed them with a detestation and disgust,which could hardly have been greater, though they had beenobscene demons, marketing the corpse itself.

``Ha, ha!'' laughed the same woman, when old Joe,producing a flannel bag with money in it, told out theirseveral gains upon the ground. ``This is the end of it, yousee! 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 isthis!''

He recoiled in terror, for the scene had changed, and now healmost 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 anyaccuracy, though Scrooge glanced round it in obedience to asecret impulse, anxious to know what kind of room it was. Apale light, rising in the outer air, fell straight upon thebed; and on it, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept,uncared for, was the body of this man.

Scrooge glanced towards the Phantom. Its steady hand waspointed to the head. The cover was so carelessly adjusted thatthe slightest raising of it, the motion of a finger uponScrooge's part, would have disclosed the face. He thought ofit, felt how easy it would be to do, and longed to do it; buthad no more power to withdraw the veil than to dismiss thespectre at his side.

Oh cold, cold, rigid, dreadful Death, set up thine altarhere, and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thycommand: for this is thy dominion! But of the loved, revered,and honoured head, thou canst not turn one hair to thy dreadpurposes, or make one feature odious. It is not that the handis heavy and will fall down when released; it is not that theheart and pulse are still; but that the hand

No voice pronounced these words in Scrooge'sears, and yet he heard them when he looked upon the bed. Hethought, if this man could be raised up now, what would be hisforemost thoughts? Avarice, hard-dealing, griping cares? Theyhave brought him to a rich end, truly!

He lay, in the dark empty house, with not a man, a woman, ora child, to say that he was kind to me in this or that, and forthe memory of one kind word I will be kind to him. A cat wastearing at the door, and there was a sound of gnawing ratsbeneath the hearth-stone. What

``Spirit!'' he said, ``this is a fearful place. Inleaving it, I shall not leave its lesson, trust me. Let usgo!''

Still the Ghost pointed with an unmoved finger to the head.

``I understand you,'' Scrooge returned, ``and I would doit, if I could. But I have not the power, Spirit. I have notthe power.''

Again it seemed to look upon him.

``If there is any person in the town, who feels emotioncaused by this man's death,'' said Scrooge quite agonised,``show that person to me, Spirit, I beseech you!''

The Phantom spread its dark robe before him for a moment,like a wing; and withdrawing it, revealed a room by daylight,where a mother and her children were.

She was expecting some one, and with anxious eagerness; forshe walked up and down the room; started at every sound; lookedout from the window; glanced at the clock; tried, but in vain,to work with her needle; and could hardly bear the voices ofthe children in their play.

At length the long-expected knock was heard. She hurried tothe door, and met her husband; a man whose face was carewornand depressed, though he was young. There was a remarkableexpression in it now; a kind of serious delight of which hefelt ashamed, and which he struggled to repress.

He sat down to the dinner that had been boarding for him bythe fire; and when she asked him faintly what news(which was not until after a long silence), he appearedembarrassed how to answer.

``Is it good.'' she said, ``or bad?'' -- to helphim.

``Bad,'' he answered.

``We are quite ruined?''

``No. There is hope yet, Caroline.''

``If

``He is past relenting,'' said her husband. ``He isdead.''

She was a mild and patient creature if her face spoke truth;but she was thankful in her soul to hear it, and she said so,with clasped hands. She prayed forgiveness the next moment,and was sorry; but the first was the emotion of her heart.

``What the half-drunken woman whom I told you of lastnight, said to me, when I tried to see him and obtain a week'sdelay; and what I thought was a mere excuse to avoid me; turnsout to have been quite true. He was not only very ill, butdying, then.''

``To whom will our debt be transferred?''

``I don't know. But before that time we shall be readywith the money; and even though we were not, it would be a badfortune indeed to find so merciless a creditor in hissuccessor. We may sleep to-night with light hearts,Caroline!''

Yes. Soften it as they would, their hearts were lighter.The children's faces, hushed and clustered round to hear whatthey so little understood, were brighter; and it was a happierhouse for this man's death! The only emotion that the Ghostcould show him, caused by the event, was one of pleasure.

``Let me see some tenderness connected with a death,''said Scrooge; ``or that dark chamber, Spirit, which we leftjust now, will be for ever present to me.''

The Ghost conducted him through several streets familiar tohis feet; and as they went along, Scrooge looked here and thereto find himself, but nowhere was he to be seen. They enteredpoor Bob Cratchit's house; the dwelling he had visited before;and found the mother and the children seated roundthe fire.

Quiet. Very quiet. The noisy little Cratchits were asstill as statues in one corner, and sat looking up at Peter,who had a book before him. The mother and her daughters wereengaged in sewing. But surely they were very quiet!

````And he took a child, and set him in the midst ofthem.''''

Where had Scrooge heard those words? He had not dreamedthem. The boy must have read them out, as he and the Spiritcrossed the threshold. Why did he not go on?

The mother laid her work upon the table, and put her hand upto her face.

``The colour hurts my eyes,'' she said.

The colour? Ah, poor Tiny Tim!

``They're better now again,'' said Cratchit's wife. ``It makes them weak by candle-light; and I wouldn't show weakeyes to your father when he comes home, for the world. It mustbe near his time.''

``Past it rather,'' Peter answered, shutting up his book.``But I think he has walked a little slower than he used,these few last evenings, mother.''

They were very quiet again. At last she said, and in asteady, cheerful voice, that only faultered once:

``I have known him walk with -- I have known him walkwith Tiny Tim upon his shoulder, very fast indeed.''

``And so have I,'' cried Peter. ``Often.''

``And so have I!'' exclaimed another. So had all.

``But he was very light to carry,'' she resumed, intentupon her work, ``and his father loved him so, that it was notrouble: no trouble. And there is your father at the door!''

She hurried out to meet him; and little Bob in his comforter-- he had need of it, poor fellow -- came in. Histea was ready for him on the hob, and they all tried who shouldhelp him to it most. Then the two young Cratchits got upon hisknees and laid, each child a little cheek, against his face,

Bob was very cheerful with them, and spoke pleasantly to allthe family. He looked at the work upon the table, and praisedthe industry and speed of Mrs Cratchit and the girls. Theywould be done long before Sunday, he said.

``Sunday! You went to-day, then, Robert?'' said hiswife.

``Yes, my dear,'' returned Bob. ``I wish you could havegone.It would have done you good to see how green a place it is. But you'll see it often. I promised him that I would walk there on a Sunday. My little, little child!'' cried Bob. ``My little child!''

He broke down all at once. He couldn't help it. If hecould have helped it, he and his child would have been fartherapart perhaps than they were.

He left the room, and went up-stairs into the room above,which was lighted cheerfully, and hung with Christmas. Therewas a chair set close beside the child, and therewere signs of some one having been there, lately. Poor Bob satdown in it, and when he had thought a little and composedhimself, he kissed the little face. He was reconciled to whathad happened, and went down again quite happy.

They drew about the fire, and talked; the girls and motherworking still. Bob told them of the extraordinary kindness ofMr Scrooge's nephew, whom he had scarcely seen but once, andwho, meeting him in the street that day, and seeing that helooked a little -- ``just a little down you know,''said Bob, inquired what had happened to distress him. ``Onwhich,'' said Bob, ``for he is the pleasantest-spokengentleman you ever heard, I told him. ``I am heartily sorryfor it, Mr Cratchit,'' he said, ``and heartily sorry foryour good wife.'' By the bye, how he ever knew

``Knew what, my dear?''

``Why, that you were a good wife,'' replied Bob.

``Everybody knows that.'' said Peter.

``Very well observed, my boy.'' cried Bob. ``I

``I'm sure he's a good soul!'' said Mrs Cratchit.

``You would be surer of it, my dear,'' returned Bob,``if you saw and spoke to him. I shouldn't be at allsurprised, mark what I say, if he got Peter a bettersituation.''

``Only hear that, Peter,'' said Mrs Cratchit.

``And then,'' cried one of the girls, ``Peter will bekeeping company with some one, and setting up for himself.''

``Get along with you!'' retorted Peter, grinning.

``It's just as likely as not,'' said Bob, ``one of thesedays; though there's plenty of time for that, my dear. Buthowever and whenever we part from one another, I amsure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim -- shall we-- or this first parting that there was among us?''

``Never, father!'' cried they all.

``And I know,'' said Bob, ``I know, my dears, that whenwe recollect how patient and how mild he was; although he was alittle, little child; we shall not quarrel easily amongourselves, and forget poor Tiny Tim in doing it.''

``No, never, father!'' they all cried again.

``I am very happy,'' said little Bob, ``I am veryhappy!''

Mrs Cratchit kissed him, his daughters kissed him, the twoyoung Cratchits kissed him, and Peter and himself shok hands. Spirit of Tiny Tim, thy childish essence was from God!

``Spectre,'' said Scrooge, ``something informs me thatour parting moment is at hand. I know it, but I know not how. Tell me what man that was whom we saw lying dead?''

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come conveyed him, as before-- though at a different time, he thought:indeed, there seemed no order in these latter visions, savethat they were in the Future -- into the resorts ofbusiness men, but showed him not himself. Indeed, the Spiritdid not stay for anything, but went straight on, as to the endjust now desired, until besought by Scrooge to tarry for amoment.

``This courts,'' said Scrooge, ``through which we hurrynow, is where my place of occupation is, and has been for alength of time. I see the house. Let me behold what I shallbe, in days to come.''

The Spirit stopped; the hand was pointed elsewhere.

``The house is yonder,'' Scrooge exclaimed. ``Why doyou point away?''

The inexorable finger underwent no change.

Scrooge hastened to the window of his office, and looked in.It was an office still, but not his. The furniture was notthe same, and the figure in the chair was not himself. ThePhantom pointed as before.

He joined it once again, and wondering why andwhither he had gone, accompanied it until they reached an irongate. He paused to look round before entering.

A churchyard. Here, then, the wretched man whose name hehad now to learn, lay underneath the ground. It was a worthyplace. Walled in by houses; overrun by grass and weeds, thegrowth of vegetation's death, not life; choked up with too muchburying; fat with repleted appetite. A worthy place!

The Spirit stood among the graves, and pointed down to One. He advanced towards it trembling. The Phantom was exactly asit had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in itssolemn shape.

``Before I draw nearer to that stone to which youpoint,'' said Scrooge, ``answer me one question. Are thesethe shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows ofthings that May be, only?''

Still the Ghost pointed downward to the grave by which itstood.

``Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, ifpersevered in, they must lead,'' said Scrooge. ``But if thecourses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thuswith what you show me!''

The Spirit was immovable as ever.

Scrooge crept towards it, trembling as he went; andfollowing the finger, read upon the stone of the neglectedgrave his own name,

``Am

The finger pointed from the grave to him, and back again.

``No, Spirit! Oh no, no!''

The finger still was there.

``Spirit!'' he cried, tight clutching at its robe,``hear me! I am not the man I was. I will not be the man Imust have been but for this intercourse. Why show me this, ifI am past all hope?''

For the first time the hand appeared to shake.

``Good Spirit,'' he pursued, as down upon the ground hefell before it: ``Your nature intercedes for me,and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadowsyou have shown me, by an altered life!''

The kind hand trembled.

``I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep itall the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and theFuture. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. Iwill not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me Imay sponge away the writing on this stone!''

In his agony, he caught the spectral hand. It sought tofree itself, but he was strong in his entreaty, and detainedit. The Spirit, stronger yet, repulsed him.

Holding up his hands in a last prayer to have his fatereversed, he saw an alteration in the Phantom's hood and dress.It shrunk, collapsed, and dwindled down into a bedpost.