Scene first, Marley's Ghost. Marley was dead, to begin with." These
words, or words very similar, were spoken in a husky voice, not
remarkable in any way, and with the English cadence in articulation, a
rising inflection at the end of every few words. They were spoken with
perfect simplicity, and the introductory description was read with
good sense, and conveyed a fine relish upon the reader's part of the
things described. There was nothing formal, no effort of any kind. The
left hand held the book, the right hand moved continually, slightly
indicating the action described, as of putting on a muffler, or
whatever it might be. But the moment Scrooge spoke the drama began.

Every character was individualized by the voice and by a slight change
of expression. But the reader stood perfectly still, and the instant
transition of the voice from the dramatic to the descriptive tone was
unfailing and extraordinary. This was perfection of art. Nor was the
evenness of the variety less striking. Every character was indicated
with the same felicity. Of course the previous image in the hearer's
mind must be considered in estimating the effect. The reader does not
create the character, the writer has done that; and now he refreshes
it into unwonted vividness, as when a wet sponge is passed over an old
picture. Scrooge, and Tiny Tim, and Sam Weller and his wonderful
father, and Sergeant Buzfuz, and Justice Stareleigh have an intenser
reality and vitality than before. As the reading advances the spell
becomes more entrancing. The mind and heart answer instantly to every
tone and look of the reader. In a passionate outburst, as in Bob
Cratchit's wail for his lost little boy, or in Scrooge's prayer to be
allowed to repent, the whole scene lives and throbs before you. And
when, in the great trial of Bardell against Pickwick, the thick, fat
voice of the elder Weller wheezes from the gallery, "Put it down with
a wee, me Lerd, put it down with a wee," you turn to look for the