The House of the Spirits (Everyman's Library Contemporary Classics) March 10, 2005, Everyman's Library Hardcover - New Ed edition 814.

The House of the Spirits Introduction. Isabel Allende has been accused of everything from literary piracy to political exploitation for The House of the Spirits, which was published in Spain in 1982 and translated into English in 1985.The book follows four generations of a Chilean family and their involvement with the turbulent political events of the 1970s.
Now, her spirit waiting to break loose, she droops upon his arm within the house; this is the day when she must die and render up her life. But I must leave this Palace's dear roof, for fear pollution soil me in the house. Death, Lord of All the Dead, now comes to lead her to the house of Hades! Most punctually he comes!

Stave 1: Marley's Ghost | Stave 2: The First of the Three Spirits
Stave 3: The Second of the Three Spirits | Stave 4: The Last of the Spirits
Stave 5: The End of It

A CHRISTMAS CAROL by Charles Dickens

Stave 4: The Last of the Spirits

he Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. Whenit came, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for inthe very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed toscatter gloom and mystery.

It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealedits head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one 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 solemn dread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neitherspoke nor moved.

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

The Spirit answered not, but pointed downward with itshand.

'You are about to show me shadows of the things thathave not 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,Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembledbeneath him, and he found that he could hardly stand whenhe prepared to follow it. The Spirit pauses a moment, asobserving his condition, 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 thedusky shroud there were ghostly eyes intently fixed uponhim, while he, though he stretched his own to the utmost,could see nothing but a spectral hand and one great heapof black.

'Ghost of the Future!' he exclaimed, 'I fear you morethan any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purposeis to do me good, and as I hope to live to be anotherman from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company,and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speakto me?'

It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straightbefore them.

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

The Phantom moved away as it had come towards him.Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress, which bore himup, he thought, and carried him along.

They scarcely seemed to enter the city; for the city ratherseemed to spring up about them, and encompass them of itsown act. But there they were, in the heart of it; onChange, amongst the merchants; who hurried up and down,and chinked the money in their pockets, and conversed ingroups, and looked at their watches, and trifled thoughtfullywith their great gold seals; and so forth, as Scrooge hadseen them often.

The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of business men.Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Scroogeadvanced to 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 hisnose, 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'tleft it to me. That's all I know.'

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 goto it. Suppose we make up a party and volunteer?'

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

Another laugh.

'Well, I am the most disinterested among you, after all,' said the first speaker,' for I never wear black gloves, and Inever eat lunch. But I'll offer to go, if anybody else will.When I come to think of it, I'm not at all sure that I wasn'this most particular friend; for we used to stop and speakwhenever we met. Bye, bye.'

Speakers and listeners strolled away, and mixed with other groups. Scrooge knew the men, and looked towards theSpirit for an explanation.

The Phantom glided on into a street. Its finger pointedto two persons meeting. Scrooge listened again, thinkingthat the explanation might lie here.

He knew these men, also, perfectly. They were men of ayebusiness: very wealthy, and of great importance. He had madea point 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 own atlast, hey.'

'So I am told,' returned the second. 'Cold, isn't it.'

'Seasonable for Christmas time. You're not a skater, 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 have some hiddenpurpose, he set himself to consider what it was likely to be.They could scarcely be supposed to have any bearing on thedeath of Jacob, his old partner, for that was Past, and thisGhost's province was the Future. Nor could he think of anyone immediately connected with himself, to whom he couldapply them. But nothing doubting that to whomsoeverthey applied they had some latent moral for his own improvement,he resolved to treasure up every word he heard,and everything he saw; and especially to observe theshadow of himself when it appeared. For he had an expectationthat the conduct of his future self would give himthe clue he missed, and would render the solution of theseriddles 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, hesaw no likeness of himself among the multitudes that pouredin through the Porch. It gave him little surprise, however;for he had been revolving in his mind a change of life, andthought and hoped he saw his new-born resolutions carriedout in this.

Quiet and dark, beside him stood the Phantom, with itsoutstretched hand. When he roused himself from histhoughtful quest, he fancied from the turn of the hand, andits situation in reference to himself, that the Unseen Eyeswere looking at him keenly. It made him shudder, and feelvery cold.

They left the busy scene, and went into an obscure partof the town, where Scrooge had never penetrated before,although he recognised its situation, and its bad repute. Theways were foul and narrow; the shops and houses wretched;the people half-naked, drunken, slipshod, ugly. Alleys andarchways, like so many cesspools, disgorged their offenses ofsmell, and dirt, and life, upon the straggling streets; and thewhole quarter reeked 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. Upon the floor within, were piled up heaps of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges,files, scales, weights, and refuse iron of all kinds. Secretsthat few would like to scrutinise were bred and hidden inmountains of unseemly rags, masses of corrupted fat, andsepulchr

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