ent. Merry Christmas was
nonsense to him because he did not know how to be merry. He was a cold,
cynical bachelor, and at that, so far, was perfectly within the law,
moral and legal.

But Chesterton, by rather an unfortunate attempt to be too original, has
turned him into a filthy hypocrite who needed no appearances of spirits
whatever; for he says of Scrooge, 'He is only a crusty old bachelor, and
had, I strongly suspect, given away turkeys secretly all his life.'

When Chesterton says that Scrooge gave away turkeys secretly all his
life it is merely saying that the whole attitude of Scrooge to life was
a silly and unmeaning pose, which makes him ridiculous, and robs the
'Christmas Carol' of all its real worth, that of the miraculous
conversion of Scrooge.

But, then, the actual story does not mean much for Chesterton: 'the
repentance of Scrooge is highly improbable.' If it is true that Scrooge
really did give away turkeys secretly, then it is quite obvious that
Scrooge never did repent; he was past it. But I fancy that Chesterton
has erred badly here; he has attempted without success to put a secret
meaning into a simple and beautiful story.

'Chimes' is, for Chesterton, an attack on cant. It was a story written
by Dickens to protest against all he hated in the nature of
oppression. Dickens hated the vulgar cant that only helps to bring
self-advertisement: the ethic that the poor must listen to the rich, not
because the rich are the best law-givers, but because society is at
present so constituted that no other method can be adopted.

Dickens loved the attitude the poor always take to Christmas; it is that
attitude which is the proof that at its bedrock humanity is extremely
lovable. Chesterton is entirely in agreement with Dickens on this
matter. 'There is nothing,' he says, 'upon which the poor are more
criticized than on the point of spending large sums on small feasts;
there is nothing in which they are more right.'

Dickens did not in any way forget that the real spirit of Christmas is
to be found in the cheery group round the blazing fire. 'The Cricket on
the Hearth' is a pleasant tale about all that we associate with
Christmas, that very thing that has made Hearth and Christmas
synonymous; yet Chesterton considers this one of the weakest of the
Dickens' stories, which is a surprising criticism for a writer who
really loves Christmas as he does.

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