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Les cartea, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent itrm filmAa A des taux de rMuction diff^rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour itre reproduit en un seul clichA, il est film4 i partir da I'angle sup^rieur gauche, de gauche A droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images nAcessaira. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m^thode. 32 X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 ^ SCARLET LETTER^ 1 VJL he set wbe •i?jd ehild r, sight of her brave apparel ' ' 5 Prynne shall re man, woman, and ehild may have a fair \ \ )^e5CARLLT By^Naihaniel Serawio-GEORGE-N-MORANG 6'COMPANYZ.wmiferfMDCCCC i9oo /a3o $177 0, S7 c Copyripht MDCCCC by DODD-MEADG-COMPANY QArranpecl'Desipned and Ph'niedb/mt UNIVERSITY PRESS-CAMBRIDGE-U-SA '•' '* Intrc The ] The 1 The 1 [the I Heste Pearl [The C [The E 'The I I The L [The I; The N Anoth (Hestei i i Contents 'J |Introdi;ctory~The Custom-House . ''T THE SCARLET LETTER |The Prison-Door ,, [The Market-Place ...... g The Recognition fTHE Interview ...... 'Hester at her Needle ,, Pearl . . IT r> '26 [iHE Governor's Hall The Elk-Child and the Minister . . iu The Leech ^ I The Leech and his Patient . ..." ,85 I The Interior of a Heart. . . . .' 201 The Minister's Vigil Another View of Hester . . .' ' * 33^ Hester and the Physician . «., vi Contents Hester and Pearl arj A Forest Walk 264 V The Pastor and his Parishioner . . 274 j A Flood of Sunshine 289 The Child at the Brook-side . . . 299 The Minister in a Maze . . . . . 310 The New England Holiday .... 327 The Procession 341 The Revelation of the Scarlet Letter 358 Conclusion 372 zm^l^e Scarlet Letter UntroductoryWfie^stomllmSi kT is a little remarkable, that — though disinclined 'to talk overmuch of myself land my Tairs at the fire- 'side, and to my personal [friends — an autobiograph- ical impulse should twice 'in my life have taken pos- session of me, in addressing the public. The first time was three or four years since, when I favored the reader — inexcusably, and for no earthly reason, that either the indulp^nt reader or the intrusive author could imagine — with a description of my way of life in the deep quie- tude of an Old Manse. And now — because, beyond my deserts, I was happy enough to find a listener or two on the former occasion — I again seize the public by the button, and talk of my three years' experience in a Custom-House. The example of the famous " P. P., Clerk of this Parish," was never more faithfully followed. The truth seems to be, however, that, when he casts his leaves forth upon the wind, the author addresses, not the many who will fling aside his volume, or never take it up, but the few who will i a "^ he Scarlet Letter understand him, better than most of his school- mates or lifemates. Some authors, indeed, do far more than this, and indulge themselves in such confidential depths of revelation as could fittingly be addressed, only and exclusively, to the one heart and mind of perfect sympathy ; as if the printed book, thrown at large on the wide world, were certain to find out the divided seg- ment of the writer's own nature, and complete his circle of existence by bringing him into communion with it. It is scarcely decorous, however, to speak all, even where we speak impersonally. But, as thoughts are frozen and utterance benumbed, unless the speaker stand in some true relation with his audience, it may be pardonable to imagine that a friend, a kind and apprehensive, though not the closest friend, is listening to our talk ; and then, a native reserve being thawed by this genial consciousness, we may prate of the circumstances that lie around us, and even of ourself, but still keep the inmost Me behind its veil. To this extent, and within these limits, an author, methinks, may be auto- biographical, without violating either the reader's rights or his own. It will be seen, likewise, that this Custom- House sketch has a certain propriety, of a kind always recognized in literature, as explaining how a large portion of the following pages came t •^ Letter vsAe Sea rlet Letter of his school- s, indeed, do themselves in tion as could xclusively, to sympathy; as e on the wide ; divided seg- and complete ng him inlo ;ly decorous, re we speak e frozen and aker stand in ce, it may be 1, a kind and est friend, is lative reserve ciousness, we at lie around ;p the inmost It, and within nay be auto- r the reader's :his Custom- :y, of a kind s explaining \ pages came into my possession, and as offering proofs of the authenticity of a narrative therein contained. Ihis, m fact, -a desire to put myself in mv true position as editor, or very little more, of the most prolix among the tales that make up mv volume, -this, and no other, is my true reason for assuming a personal relation with the public In accomplishing the main purpose, it has ap^ peared allowable, by a few extra touches, to give a faint representation of a mode of life not here- tofore described, together with some of the char- acters that move in it, among whom the author happened to make one. IN my native town of Salem, at the head of what, half a century ago, in the days of old King Derby,was a bustling wharf,-but which IS now burdened with decayed wooden warehouses, and exhibits few or no symptoms of commercial fe; except, perhaps, a bark or brig, half-way down at hand, a Nova Scotia schooner, pitching out h r cargo of firewood,-at the head, I say, of this dilapidated wharf, which the tide often ov;rflor and along which at the base and in the rear o/ the row of buildings, the track of many languid years ,s seen in a border of unthrifty grass _ W, with a view from its front window! adown this not very enlivening prospect, and thence / 4 "^Ae Scarlet Letter i!M across the harbor, stands a spacious edifice of brick. From the loftiest point of its roof, during precisely three and a half hours of each forenoon, floats or droops, in breeze or calm, the banner of the republic ; but with the thirteen stripes turned vertically, instead of horizontally, and thus indi- cating that a civil, and not a military post of Uncle Sam's government is here es*-ablished. Its front is ornamented with a portico of half a dozen wooden pillars, supporting a balcony, beneath which a flight of wide granite steps descends towards the street. Over the entrance hovers an enormous specimen of the American eagle, with outspread wings, a shield before her breast, and, if I recollect aright, a bunch of inter- mingled thunderbolts and barbed arrows in each claw. With the customary infirmity of temper that characterizes this unhappy fowl, she appears, by the fierceness of her beak and eye, and the general truculency of her attitude, to threaten mischief to the inoffensive community ; and especially to warn all citizens, careful of their safety, against intruding on the premises which she overshadows with her wings. Nevertheless, vixenly as she looks, many people are seeking, at this very moment, to shelter themselves under the wing of the federal eagle ; imagining, I pre- sume, that her bosom has all the softness and snugness of an eider-down pillow. But she has ¥' letter edifice of roof, during h forenoon, e banner of ripes turned 1 thus indi- iry post of established. ico of half a balcony, ranite steps he entrance e American before her ich of inter- OV.S in each ' of temper she appears, ye, and the to threaten unity ; and ful of their nises which fevertheless, ! seeking, at elves under ling, I pre- toftness and But she has *S/ic Scarlet Letter no great tenderness, even in her best of moods, and, sooner or later, — oftener soon than late, — is apt to fling off her nestlings, with a scratch of her claw, a dab of her beak, or a rankling wound from her barbed arrows. The pavement round about the above-de- scribed edifice — which we may as well name at once as the Custom-House of the port— has grass enough growing in its chinks to show that it has not, of late days, been worn by anv multi- tudinous resort of business. In some months of the year, however, there often chances a forenoon when affairs move onward with a livelier tread. Such occasions might remind the elderly citizen of that period before the last war with England, when Salem was a port by itself; not scorned, as she is now, by her own merchants and ship- owners, who permit her wharves to crumble to ruin, while their ventures go to swell, needlessly and imperceptibly, the mighty flood of commerce at New York or Boston. On some such morn- ing, when three or four vessels happen to have arrived at once, — usually from Africa or South America, — or to be on the verge of their depar- ture thitherward, there is a sound of frequent feet, passing briskly up and down the granite steps. Here, before his own wife has greeted him, you may greet the sea-flushed shipmaster just m port, with his vessel's papers under his / 6 "TS/ie Scarlet Letter % ]S arm, in a tarnished tin box. Here, too, comes his owner, cheerful or sombre, gracious or in the sulks, accordingly as his scheme of the now accomplished voyage has been realized in mer- chandise that will readily be turned to gold, or has buried him under a bulk of incommodities, such as nobouy will care to rid him of. Here, like- wise, — the germ of the wrinkle-browed, grizzly- bearded, care-worn merchant, — we have the smart young clerk, who gets the taste of traffic as a wolf- cub does of blood, and already sends adventures in his master's ships, when he had better be sailing mimic-boats upon a mill-pond. Another figure in the scene is the outward-bound sailor in quest of a protection ; or the recently arrived one, pale and feeble, seeking a passport to the hospital. Nor must we forget the captains of the rusty little schooners that bring firewood from the British provinces ; a rough-looking set of tarpaulins, without the alertness of the Yankee aspect, but contributing an item of no slight importance to our decaying trade. Cluster all these individuals together, as they sometimes were, with other miscellaneous ones to diversify the group, and, for the time be- ing, it made the Custom-House a stirring scene. More frequently, however, on ascending the steps, you would discern — in the entry, if it were sum- mer time, or in their appropriate rooms, if win- Ji : I ?ffer 50, comes or in the the now i in mer- >ld, or has ities, such ere, Hke- l, grizzly- the smart as a wolf- dventures better be Another md sailor ly arrived >rt to the ptains of firewood loking set le Yankee no slight r, as they eous ones time be- ing scene, the steps, ivere sum- is, if win- ^Ae Scarlet Lette r 7 try or inclement weather — a row of venerable figures, sitting in old-fashioned chairs, which were tipped on their hind legs back against the wall. Oftentimes they were asleep, but occasionally might be heard talking together, in voices be- tween speech and a snore, and with that lack of energy that distinguishes the occupants of almshouses, and all other human beings who de- pend for subsistence on charity, on monopolized labor, or anything else, but their own independ- ent exertions. These old gentlemen — seated, like Matthew, at the receipt of customs, but not very liable to be summoned thence, like him, for apostolic errands — were Custom -House officers. Furthermore, on the left hand as you enter the front door, is a certain room or office, about fifteen feet square, and of a lofty height ; with two of its arched windows commanding a view of the aforesaid dilapidated wharf, and the third looking across a narrow lane, and along a portion of Derby Street. All three give glimpses of the shops of grocers, block-makers, slop-sellers, and ship-chandlers ; around the doors of which are generally to be seen, laughing and gossiping clusters of old salts, and such other wharf-rats as haunt the Wapping of a seaport. The room it- self IS cobwebbed, and dingy with old paint; its floor IS strewn with gray sand, in a fashion that 8 'Is Ae Scarlet Lette r has elsewhere fallen into long disuse; and it is easy to conclude, from the general slovenliness of the place, that this is a sanctuary into which womankind, with her tools of magic, the broom and mop, has very infrequent access. In the way of furniture, there is a stove with a voluminous funnel; an old pine desk, with a three-legged stool beside it; two or three wooden-bottom chairs, exceedingly decrepit and infirm; and — not to forget the library — on some shelves, a score or two of volumes of the Acts of Con- gress, and a bulky Digest of the Revenue Laws. A tin pipe ascends through the ceiling, and forms a medium of vocal communication with other parts of the edifice. And here, some six months ago, — pacing from corner to corner, or lounging on the long-legged stool, with his elbow on the desk, and his eyes wandering up and down the columns of the morning news- paper,— you might have recognized, honored reader, the same individual who welcomed you into his cheery little study, where the sunshine glimmered so pleasantly through the willow branches, on the western side of the Old Manse. But now, should you go thither to seek him, you would inquire in vain for the Locofoco Surveyor. The besom of reform has swept him out of office ; and a worthier successor wears his dig- nity, and pockets his emoluments. '^Ae Scarlet Letter his This old town of Salem — my native place, though I have dwelt much away from it, both in boyhood and maturer years — possesses, or did possess, a hold on my affections, the force of which I have never realized during my sea- sons of actual residence here. Indeed, so far as its physical aspect is concerned, with its flat, unvaried surface, covered chiefly with wooden houses, few or none of which pretend to architectural beauty, — its irregularity, which is neither picturesque nor quaint, but only tame, — Its long and lazy street, lounging weari- somely through the whole extent of the penin- sula, with Gallows Hill and New Guinea at one end, and a view of the almshouse at the other, — such being the features of my native town, it would be quite as reasonable to form a sen- timental attachment to a disarranged checker- board. And yet, though invariably happiest elsewhere, there is within me a feeling for old Salem, which, in lack of a better phrase, I must be content to call afl^ection. The sentiment is probably assignable to the deep and aged roots which my family has struck into the soil. It is now nearly two centuries and a quarter since the original Briton, the earliest emigrant of my name, made his appearance in the wild and forest-bordered settlement, which has since be- come a city. And here his descendants have xo *g/ic Scarlet Lett er been born and died, and have mingled their earthy substance with the soil; until no small portion of it must necessarily be akin to the mortal frame wherewith, for a little while, I walk the streets. In part, therefore, the attachment which I speak of is the mere sensuous sympathy of dust for dust. Few of my countrymen can know what it is ; nor, as frequent transplantation IS perhaps better for the stock, need they con- sider it desirable to know. But the sentiment has likewise its moral qual- ity. The figure of that first ancestor, invested by family tradition with a dim and dusky grandeur, was present to my boyish imagina- tion, as far back as I can remember. It still haunts me, and induces a sort of home-feeling with the past, which I scarcely claim in reference to the present phase of the town. 1 seem to have a stronger claim to a residence here on account of this grave, bearded, sable-cloaked and steeple-crowned progenitor, — who came so early, with his Bible and his sword, and trode the un- worn street with such a stately port, and made so large a figure, as a man of war and peace,— a stronger claim than for myself, whose name is seldom heard and my face hardly known. He was a soldier, legislator, judge ; he was a ruler in the church ; he had all the Puritanic traits, both good and evil. He was likewise a bitter per- gtfgf ; 'e/ie Scarlet Letter ■■■■■■■■■■I 'M, ... ^ II gled their no small cin to the ile, I walk ittachment sympathy ymen can plantation they con- oral qual- , invested d dusky imagina- It still ne-feeling reference seem to here on aked and so early, 2 the un- made so peace, — name is vn. He ruler in its, both :ter per- il secutor, as witness the Quakers, who have re- membered him in their histories, and relate an incident of his hard severity towards a woman of their sect, which will last longer, it is to be feared, than any record of his better deeds, al- though these were many. His son, too, inher- ited the persecuting spirit, and made himself so conspicuous in the martyrdom of the witches, that their blood may fairly be said to have left a stain upon him. So deep a stain, indeed, that his old dry bones, in the Charter Street burial- ground, must still ret:iin it, if they have not crumbled utterly to dust ! I know not whether these ancestors of mine bethought themselvts to repent, and ask pardon of heaven for their cruel- ties ; or whether they are now groaning under the heavy consequences of them, in another state of being. At a!I events, I, the present writer, as their representative, hereby take shame upon myself for their sakes, and pray that any curse incurred by them — as 1 have heard, and as the dreary and unprosperous condition of the race, for many a long year back, would argue to exist — may be now and henceforth removed./ Doubtless, however, either of these stern and black-browed Puritans would have thought it quite a sufficient retribution for his sins, that, after so long a lapse of years, the old trunk of the family tree, with so much venerable moss upon xa "Is/i e Sea rlef Letter It, should have borne, as its topmost bough, an idler like myself. No aim, that I have ever cherished, would they recogni/e as laudable; no success of mine — if my life, beyond its domestic scope, had ever been brightened by success — would they deem otherwise than worthless, if not positively disgraceful. " What is he ? " murmurs one gray shadow of my forefathers to the other. " A writer of story-books ! What kind of a business in life, — what mode of glorifying God, or being serviceable to mankind in his clay and generation, — may that be? Why, the degen- erate fellow might as well have been a fiddler!" Such are the compliments bandied between my great-grandsires and myself, across the gulf of time ! And yet, let them scorn me as they will, strong traits of their njrture have intertwined themselves with mine. Planted deep, in the town's earliest infancy and childhood, by these two earnest and ener- getic men, the race has ever since subsisted here ; always, too, in respectability ; never, so far as I have known, disgraced by a single u.-wcrthy member; but seldom or never, on '■lie i ther hand, after the first two generations, performing any memorable deed, or so much as putting for- ward a claim to public notice. Gradually, they have sunk almost out of sight; as old houses, hst bough, an I have ever laudable ; no I its domestic ")y success — •thless, if not ? " murmurs to the other, t kind of a irifying God, his clay and , the degen- i a fiddler!" between my the gulf of as they will, intertwined liest infancy !t and ener- bsisted here ; , so far as I e unwcrthy 1 *he ther , performing putting for- dually, they old houses, get covered half-way to the eaves by the accumulation of new soil. From father to son, for above a hundred years, they ff'lowed the sea; a gray-headed ship- master, in each generation, retiring from the quarter- ieclc to the homestead, while a boy of ' lurteen took the hereditary place before the mast, confronting the salt spray and the gale, which had blustered against his sire and grand- sire. The boy, also, in due time, passed from the forecastle to the cabin, spent a tempestuous manhood, and returned from his world-wander- ings, to grow old, and die, and mingle his dust with the natal earth. This long connection of a family with one spot, as its place of birth and burial, creates a kindred between the human being and the locality, quite independent of any charm in the scenery or moral circumstances that surround him. It is not love, but instinct. The new inhabitant — who came himself from a for- eign land, or whose father or grandfather came — has little claim to be called a Salemite ; he has no conception of the oyster-like tenacity with which an old settler, over whom his third century is creeping, clings to the spot where his succes- sive generations have been imbedded. It is no matter that the place is joyless for him ; that he is weary of the old wooden houses, the mud and dust, the dead level of sight and sentiment, the chill e.;st wind, and the chillest of social atmos- { N ^4 "JSAe Scarlet Letter pheres ; — all these, and whatever faults besides he may see or imagine, are nothing to the pur- pose. The spell survives, and just as powerfUlly as if the natal spot were an earthly paradise. So has It been m my case. I felt it almost as a destmy to make Salem my home ; so that the mould of features and cast of character which had all along been familiar here, - ever, as one rep- resentative of the race lay down in his grave another assuming, as it were, his sentry-march along the main street, — might still in my little day be seen and recognized in the old town Nevertheless, this very sentiment is an evidence that the connection, which has become an un- healthy one, should at last be severed. Human nature will not flourish, any more than a potato It It be planted and replanted, for too long a // rr\°f ^'"''''''°"'' ^" '^^ same worn-out soil. My children have had other birthplaces, and, so iar as their fortunes may be within my con- trol shall strike their roots into unaccustomed earth. On emerging from the Old Manse, it was chiefly this strange, indolent, unjoyous attach- ment for my native town, that brought me to fill a place in Uncle Sam's brick edifice, when I might as well, or better, have gone somewhere else. ^ My doom was on me. It was not the first time, nor the second, that I had gone away *'*$ f letter "^Ae Scarlet Letter 15 r faults besides ing to the pur- st as powerftjlly y paradise. So it almost as a 2; so that the icter which had 'Ty as one rep- in his grave, 5 sentry-march ill in my little :he old town, is an evidence 2come an un- red. Human than a potato, )r too long a ^orn-out soil. )laces, and, so bin my con- unaccustomed lanse, it was yous attach- ght me to fill ice, when I i somewhere was not the 1 gone away, — as it seemed, permanently, — but yet returned, like the bad half-penny ; or as if Salem were for me the inevitable centre of the universe. So, one fine morning, I ascended the flight of granite steps, with the President's commission in my pocket, and was introduced to the corps of gentlemen who were to aid me in my weighty responsibility, as chief executive officer of the Custom-House. I doubt greatly — or, rather, I do not doubt at all — whether any public functionary of the United States, either in the civil or military line* has ever had such a patriarchal body of veterans under his orders as myself. The whereabouts of the Oldest Inhabitant was at once settled, when I looked at them. For upwards of twenty years before this epoch, the independent position of the Collector had kept the Salem Custom-House out of the whirlpool of political vicissitude, which makes the tenure of office generally so fragile. A soldier., — New England's most distinguished sol- dier, — he stood firmly on the pedestal of his gallant services ; and, himself secure in the wise liberality of the successive administrations through which he had held office, he had been the safety of his subordinates in many an hour of danger and heart-quake. General Miller was radically conservative; a man over whose kindly nature habit had no slight influence ; attaching himself 16 "TSAe Scarlet Letter li strongly to familiar faces, and with difficulty moved to change, even when change might have brought unquestionable improvement. Thus, on taking charge of my department, I found few but aged men. They were ancient sea-captains, for the most part, who, after being tost on every sea, and standing up sturdily against life's tem- pestuous blast, had finally drifted into this quiet nook ; where, with little to disturb them, except the periodical terrors of a Presidential election, they one and all acquired a new lease of exist- ence. Though by no means less liable than their fellow-men to age and infirmity, they had evidently some talisman or other that kept death at bay. Two or three of their number, as I was assured, being gouty and rheumatic, or perhaps bedridden, never dreamed of making their ap- pearance at the Custom-House, during a large part of the year; but, after a torpid winter, would creep out into the warm sunshine of May or June, go lazily about what they termed duty, and, at their own leisure and convenience, betake themselves to bed again. I must plead guilty to the charge of abbreviating the official breath of more than one of these venerable servants of the republic. They were allowed, on my represen- tation, to rest from their arduous labors, and soon afterwards — as if their sole principle of life had been zeal for their country's service, as m W Letter '^he Scarlet Letter '? ith difficulty ; might have ent. Thus, , I found few sea-captains, tost on every 3t life's tem- ito this quiet them, except tial election, ase of exist- liable than ty, they had t kept death ber, as I was , or perhaps ig their ap- ing a large rpid winter, ine of May :ermed duty, ence, betake jad guilty to al breath of vants of the ly represen- labors, and principle of J service, as I verily believe it was — withdrew to a better world. It is a pious consolation to me, that, through my interference, a sufficient space was allowed them for repentance of the evil and cor- rupt practices into which, as a matter of course, every Custom-House officer must be supposed to fall. Neither the front nor the back entrance of the Custom-House opens on the road to Paradise. The greater part of my officers were Whigs. It was well for their venerable brotherhood that the new Surveyor was not a politician, and though a faithful Democrat in principle, neither received nor held his office with any reference to political services. Had it been otherwise, — had an active politician been put into this Influential post, to assume the easy task of making head against a Whig Collector, whose infirmities withheld him from the personal administration of his office, — hardly a man of the old corps would have drawn the breath of official life, within a month after the exterminating angel had come up the Custom- House steps. According to the received code in such matters, it would have been nothing short of duty, in a politician, to bring every one of those white heads under the axe of the guillotine. It was plain enough to discern, that the old fellows dreaded some such discourtesy at my hands. It pained, and at the same time amused me, to be- hold the terrors that attended my advent ; to see 4 II i8 "ISA eSca rlef Letter a furrowed cheek, weather-beaten by half a cen- tury of storm, turn ashy pale at the glance of so harmless an individual as myself; to detect, as one or another addressed me, the tremor of a voice, which, in long-past days, had been wont to bellow through a speaking-trumpet, hoarsely enough to frighten Boreas himself to silence. They knew, these excellent old persons, that, by all established rule, — and, as regarded some of them, weighed by their own lack of efficiency for business, — they ought to have given place to younger men, more orthodox in politics, and altogether fitter than themselves to serve our common Uncle. I knew it too, but could never quite find in my heart to act upon the knowledge. Much and deservedly to my own discredit, there- fore, and considerably to the detriment of my official conscience, they continued, during my in- cumbency, to creep about the wharves, and loiter up and down the Custom-House steps. They spent a good deal ot dme, also, asleep in their accustomed corners, with their chairs tilted back against the wall; awaking, however, once or twice in a forenoon, to bore one another with the several thousandth repetition of old sea-stories, and mouldy jokes, that had grown to be pass- words and countersigns among them. The discovery was soon made, I imagine, that the new Surveyor had no great harm in him. .etter "WA e Scarlet Letter 19 half a cen- ;lance of so ' detect, as emor of a been wont t, hoarsely to silence. IS, that, by d some of ' efficiency ;iven place olitics, and serve our ould never knowledge, sdit, there- nt of my ing my in- and loiter 3s. They p in their ilted back :e or twice with the ;ea-stories, ) be pass- igine, that n in him. So, with lightsome hearts, and the happy con- sciousness of being usefully employed, — in their own behalf, at least, if not for our beloved coun- try, — these good old gentlemen went through the various formalities of office. Sagaciously, under their spectacles, did they peep into the holds of vessels ! Mighty was their fuss about little matters, and marvellous, sometimes, the ob- tuseness that allowed greater ones to slip between their fingers ! Whenever such a mischance oc- curred, — when a wagon-load of valuable mer- chandise had been smuggled ashore, at noonday, perhaps, and directly beneath their unsuspicious noses, — nothing could exceed the vigilance and alacrity with which they proceeded to lock, and double-lock, and secure with tape and sealing- wax, all the avenues of the delinquent vessel. In- stead of a reprimand for their previous negligence, the case seemed rather to require an eulogium on their praiseworthy caution, after the mischief had happened ; a grateful recognition of the prompti- tude of their zeal, the moment that there was no longer any remedy. Unless people are more than commonly dis- agreeable, it is my foolish habit to contract a kindness for them. The better part of my com- panion's character, if it have a better part, is that which usually comes uppermost in my regard, and forms the type whereby I recognize the man. ttSjfo 'fl ao "^Ae Scarlet Letter As most of these old Custom-House officers had good traits, and as my position in reference to them, being paternal and protective, was favor- able to the growth of friendly sentiments, I soon grew to like them all. It was pleasant, in the summer forenoons, — when the fervent heat, that almost liquefied the rest of the human family, merely communicated a genial warmth to their half- torpid systems,— it was pleasant to hear them chatting in the back entry, a row of them all tipped against the wall, as usual ; while the frozen witticisms of past generations were thawed out, and came bubbling with laughter from their hps Externally, the jollity of aged men has much m common with the mirth of children • the mtellect, any more than a deep sense of humor, has little to do with the matter ; it is, with both, a gleam that plays upon the surface,' and imparts a sunny and cheerv aspect alike to' the green branch, and gray, mouldering trunk In one case however, it is real sunshine; in the other, It more resembles the phosphorescent glow of decaying wood. It would be sad injustice, the reader must understand, to represent all my excellent old friends as in their dotage. In the first place, my coadjutors were not invariably old; there were men among them in their strength and prime of marked ability and energy, and altogether Ml iSAe Scarlet Letter 21 superior to the sluggish and dependent mode of life on which their evil stars had cast them. Then, moreover, the white locks of age were sometimes found to be the thatch of an intel- lectual tenement in good repair. But, as respects the majority of my corps of veterans, there will be no wrong done, if I characterize them gener- ally as a set of wearisome old souls, who had gathered nothing worth preservation from their varied experience of life. They seemed to have flung away all the golden grain of practical wis- dom, which they had enjoyed so many opportu- nities of harvesting, and most carefully to have stored their memories with the husks. They spoke with far more interest and unction of their morning's breakfast, or yesterday's, to-day's, or to-morrow's dinner, than of the shipwreck of forty or fifty years ago, and all the world's won- ders which they had witnessed with their youthful eyes. The father of the Custom-House — the patri- arch, not only of this little squad of officials, but, I am bold to say, of the respectable body of tide- waiters all over the United States — was a certain permanent Inspector. He might truly be termed a legitimate son of the revenue system, dyed in the wool, or, rather, born in the purple; since his sire, a Revolutionary colonel, and formerly collector of the port, had created an office for nvi a» *g4 eSca rlef Letter him, and appointed him to fill it, at a period of the early ages which few living men can now remember. This Inspector, when I first knew him, was a man of fourscore years, or there- abouts, and certainly one of the most wonderful specimens of winter-green that you would be likely to discover in a lifetime's search. With his florid cheek, his compact figure, smartly arrayed in a bright-buttoned blue coat, his brisk and vigorous step, and his hale and hearty aspect, altogether he seemed — not young, indeed — but a kind of new contrivance of Mother Nature in the shape of man, whom age and infirmity had no business to touch. His voice and laugh, which perpetually re-echoed through the Cus- tom-House, had nothing of the tremulous quaver and cackle of an old man's utterance ; they came strutting out of his lungs, like the crow of a cock, or the blast of a clarion. Looking at him r.jrely as an animal, — and there was very little else to look at, — he was a most satisfactory object, from the thorough healthfulness and wholesome- ness of his system, and his capacity, at that ex- treme age, to enjoy all, or nearly all, the delights which he had ever aimed at, or conceived of. The careless security of his life in the Custom- House, on a regular income, and with but slight and infrequent apprehensions of removal, had no doubt contributed to make time pass lightly ^Ae Scarlet Letter ^3 over him. The original and more potent causes, however, lay in the rare perfection of his animal nature, the moderate proportion of intellect, and the very trifling admixture of moral and spiritual ingredients ; these latter qualities, indeed, being in barely enough measure to keep the old gentle- man from vialking on all-fours. He possessed no power of thought, no depth of feeling, no troublesome sensibilities ; nothing, in short, but a few commonplace instincts, which, aided by the cheerful temper that grew inevitably out of his physical well-being, did duty very respectably, and to general acceptance, in lieu of a heart. He had been the husband of three wives, all long since dead; the father of twenty children, most of whom, at every age of childhood or maturity, had likewise returned to dust. Here, one would suppose, might have been sorrow enough to imbue the sunniest disposition, through and through, with a sable tinge. Not so with our old Inspector ! One brief sigh sufficed to carry off the entire burden of these dismal reminiscences. The next moment, he was as ready for sport as any unbreeched infant ; far readier than the Col- lector's junior clerk, who, at nineteen years, was much the elder and graver man of the two. I used to watch and study this patriarchal personage with, I think, livelier curiosity, than any other form of humanity there presented to ^ ^Ae Scarlet Letter my notice. He was, in truth, a rare phenome- non ; so perfect, in one point of view; so shal- low, so delusive, so impalpable, such an absolute nonenity, in every other. My conclusion was that he had no soul, no heart, no mind ; nothing, as I have already said, but instincts : and yet, withal, so cunningly had the few materials of hi? character been put together, that there was no painful perception of deficiency, but, on my part, an entire contentment with what I found in him. It might be difficult — and it was so — to con- ceive how he should exist hereafter, so earthly and sensuous did he seem; but surely his exist- ence here, admitting that it was to tt.^'.ninate with his last breath, had been not unkindly given; with no higher moral responsibilities than the beasts of the field, but with a larger scope of enjoyment than theirs, and with all their blessed immunity from the dreariness and duskiness of age. One point, in which he had vastly the advan- tage over his four-footed brethren, was his ability to recollect the good dinners which it had made no small portion of the happiness of his life to eat. His gourmandism was a highly agree- able trait; and to hear him talk of roast-meat was as appetizing as a pickle or an oyster. As he possessed no higher attribute, and neither sac- rificed nor vitiated any spiritual endowment by "^Ae Scarlet Letter 25 devoting all his energies and ingenuities to sub- serve the delight and profit of his maw, it always pleased and satisfied me to hear him expatiate on fish, poultry, and butcher's meat, and the most eligible methods of preparing them for the table. His reminiscences of good c! >er, however ancient the date of the actual banquet, seemed to bring the savor of pig or turkey under one's very nostrils. There were flavors on his palate, that had lingered there not less than sixty or seventy years, and were still apparently as fresh as that of the mutton-chop which he had just devoured foi his breakf^'.st. I have heard him smack his lips over dinners, every guest at which, except himself, had long been food for worms! It was marvellous to observe how the ghosts of bygone meals were continually rising up before him ; not in anger or retribution, but as if grate- ful for his former appreciation and seeking to reduplicate an endless series of enjoyment, at once shadowy and sensual. A tender-loin of beef, a hind-quarter of veal, a spare-rib of pork, a particular chicken, or a remarkably praise- worthy turkey, which had perhaps adorned his board in the days of the elder Adams, would be remembered ; while all the subsequent experience of our race, and all the events that brightened or darkened his individual career, had gone over him with as little permanent efl^ect as the passing ^ "^Ae Scarlet Letter breeze. The chief tragic event of the old man's life, so far as I could judge, was his mishap with a certain goose which lived and died some twenty or forty years ago; a goose of most promising figure, but which, at table, proved so inveterately tough that the carving-knifb would make no impression on its carcass, and it could only be divided with an axe and handsaw. But it is time to quit this sketch ; on which, however, I should be glad to dwell at consider- ably more length because, of all men whom I have ever known, this individual was fittest to be a Custom-House officer. Most persons, owing to causes which I may not have space to hint at, suffer moral detriment from this peculiar mode' of life. The old Inspector was incapable of it, and, were he to continue in office to the end of time, would be just as good as he was then, and sit down to dinner with just as good an appetite. There is one likeness, without which my gallery of Custom-House portraits would be strangely incomplete; but which my compara- tively few opportunities for observation enable me to sketch only in the merest outline. It is that of the Collector, our gallant old General, who, after his brilliant military service, subse- quently to which he had ruled over a wild West- ern territory, had come hither, twenty years before, etter old man's lishap with me twenty promising iveterately make no d only be on which, consider- vvhom I ttest to be ns, owing o hint at, liar mode ble of it, the end was then, good an hich my 'ould be compara- n enable e. It is General, ;, subse- Id West- rs before. ^Ae Scarlet Letter 27 to spend the decline of his varied and honorable life The brave soldier had already numbered, nearly or quite, his threescore years and ten, and was pur.uu.g the remainder of his earthly march, burdened with infirmities which even the mar- tial n^Ms.c of his own spirit-stirring recollections could do httle towards lightening. The step was palsied now, that had been foremost in the charge, ft was only with the assistance of a servant and by leaning his hand heavily on the iron balustrade, that he could slowly and pain- fully ascend the Custom-House steps, and, with a toilsome progress across the floor, attain his customary chair beside the fireplace. There he used to sit, gazing with a somewhat dim serenity of aspect at the figures that came and went • amid the rustle of papers, the administering of oaths, the discussion of business, and the casual talk of the office; all which sounds and circum- stances seemed but indistinctly to impress his senses, and hardly to make their way into his inner sphere of contemplation. His counte- nance, in this repose, was mild and kindly. If his notice was sought, an expression of courtesy and interest gleamed out upon his features- proving that there was light within him, and that It was only the outward medium of the intel- lectual lamp that obstructed the rays in their passage. The closer you penetrated to the sub- itl 28 7g/ie Scarlet Letter stance of his mind, the sounder it appeared. When no longer called upon to speak, or listen, either of which operations cost him an evident effort, his face would briefly subside into its former not uncheerful quietude. It was not painful to behold this look ; for, though dim, it had not the imbecility of decaying age. The framework of his nature, originally strong and massive, was not yet crumbled into ruin. To observe and define his character, however, under such disadvantages, was as difficult a task as to trace out and build up anew, in imagination, an old fortress, like Ticonderoga, from a view of its gray and broken ruins. Here and there, perchance, the walls may remain almost com- plete, but elsewhere may be only a shapeless mound, cumbrous with its very strength, and overgrown, through long years of peace and neg- lect, with grass and alien weeds. Nevertheless, looking at the old warrior with affection, — for, slight as was the communication between us, my feeling towards him, like that of all bipeds and quadrupeds who knew him, might not improperly be termed so, — I could discern the main points of his portrait. It was marked with the noble and heroic qualities which showed It to be not by a mere accident, but of good right, that he had won a distinguished name. His spirit could never, I conceive, have been \etter appeared, c, or listen, an evident e into its t was not gh dim, it tge. The trong and uin. however, :ult a task lagination, n a view md there, lost com- shapeless igth, and and neg- rrior with unication e that of m, might i discern marked 1 showed of good d name, ive been '^A e Scarlet Letter ao characterized by an uneasy activity; it must a. any penod of his ,ite. have required an T:':. to set h,m m mot.on; but, once stirred up, with obstacfo ,o overcome, and an adequate oW ct to be attamed, ,t was not in the man to g,ve iut or *a.l. The heat that had formerly pervaded his nature, and which was not yet extinct »,?„ _r ^L 1 • J , ^ y^^ cxnnct, was never of the kmd that flashes and flickers in a blaze- but, mher a deep, red glow, as of iron in a fur-' nace. Weight, solidity, firmness ; this wa the express-on of his repose, even in such decay a! had crept unt,mely over him, at the period of that h'"'' ^"^ ' ""'" '"-^8'-' -- "-e" that, under some excitement which should go deeply mto h,s consciousness, - roused by a trumpet-peal, loud enough to awaken all his energies that were not dead, but only slumber- ;ng,-he v.as yet capable of flinging ofl^ his .nfirm,t,es hke a sick man's gown, Lpping the stair of age to seize a battle-sword, and starting up once more a warrior. And, in so intense a moment his demeanor would have still been calm. Such an exhibition, however, was but to be Fctured m fancy; not to be anticipated, nor desired What I saw in him -as e^entiy as the indestructible ramparts of old Ticonderoga already cited as the most appropriate simile! were the feamres of stubborn and ponderous endurance, which might well have amounted to 30 "IS he Scarlet Letter I h obstinacy in his earlier days ; of integrity, that, like most of his other endowments, lay in a some- what heavy mass, and was just as unmalleable and unmanageable as a ton of iron ore ; and of benevolence, which, fiercely as he led the bayo- nets on at Chippewa or Fort Erie, I take to be of quite as genuine a stamp as what actuates any or all the polemical philanthropists of the age. He had slain men with his own hand for aught I know, — certainly, they had fallen like blades of grass at the sweep of the scythe, before the charge to which his spirit imparted its trium- phant energy ; — but, be that as it might, there was never in his heart so much cruelty as would have brushed the down off a butterfly's wing. I have not known the man, to whose innate kindliness I would more confidently make an appeal. Many characteristics — and those, too, which contribute not the least forcibly to impart resem- blance in a sketch — must have vanished, or been obscured, before I met the General. All merely graceful attributes are usually the most evanescent; nor does Nature adorn the human ruin with blossoms of new beauty, that have their roots and proper nutriment only In the chinks and crevices of decay, as she sows wall-flowers over the ruined fortress of Ticonderoga. Still, even in respect of grace and beauty, there were "g^e Scarlet Letter 31 lere were points well worth noting. A ray of humor, now and then, would make its way through the veil of dim obstruction, and glimmer pleasantly upon our faces. A trait of native elegance, seldom seen in the masculine character after childhood or early youth, was shown in the General's fond- ness for the sight and fragrance of flowers. An old soldier might be supposed to prize only the bloody laurel on his brow; but here vas one who seemed to have a young girl's appreciation of the floral tribe. There, beside the fireplace, the brave old Gen- eral used to sit; while the Surveyor— though seldom, when it could be avoided, taking upon himself the difficult task of engaging him in conversation — was fond of standing at a dis- tance, and watching his quiet and almost slum- berous countenance. He seemed away from us, although we saw him but a few yards ofl^; re- mote, though we passed close beside his chair; unattainable, though we might have stretched forth our hands and touched his own. It might be that he lived a more real life within his thoughts, than amid the unappropriate environ- ment of the Collector's office. The evolutions of the parade ; the tumult of the battle ; the flourish of old, heroic music, heard thirty years before; — such scenes and sounds, perhaps were all alive before his intellectual sense. Mean- 3a "^Ae Scarlet Letter 1 iiii while, the merchants and shipmasters, the spruce clerks and uncouth sailors, entered and departed ; the bustle of this commercial and Custom-House life kept up its little murmur round about him ; und neither with the men nor their affairs did the General appear to sustain the most distant rela- tion. He was as much out of place as an old sword — now rusty, but which had flashed once in the battle's front, and showed still a bright gleam along its blade— would have been, among the inkstands, paper-folders, and mahogany rulers, on the Deputy Collector's desk. There was one thing that much aided me in renewing and re-creating the stalwart soldier of the Niagara frontier, — the man of true and simple energy. It was the recollection of those memorable words of his, — "I'll try. Sir!" spoken on the very verge of a desperate and heroic enterprise, and breathing the soul and spirit of New England hardihood, comprehend- ing all perils, and encountering all. If, in our country, valor were rewarded by heraldic honor, this phrase — which it seems so easy to speak, but which only he, with such a task of danger and glory before him, has ever spoken — would be the best and fittest of all mottoes for the Gen- eral's shield of arms. It contributes greatly towards a man's moral and intellectual health, to be brought into habits 'g/ic Scarlet Letter 33 of companionship with individuals unlike himself tl Vr, " ' '" ''^ P"""''^' -^ "f'"- sphere and ab.ht,es he must go out of himself to appre- Z\ H u''"*'"' °f "^y "f^ '>='ve often afforded me th.s advantage, but never with more ,n offi« Tk""^ "''" '"""g "^ continuance m office. There was one man, especially, the observation of whose character gave me a new minnT -u """'' P™-"?'' ^™t^. clear, mmded ; w,th an eye that saw through dl per- plex,t,es, and a faculty of arrangement%hat mide wand ™K ;; " ? ""^ "^""S °^ =" -chanter's wand. Bred up from boyhood in the Custom- House, .t was h,s proper field of activity, and he many mtncaces of business, so harassi.;g to the mterloper, presented themselves before him w.th the regularity of a perfectly comprehende" Tr, b r "■"'•"?'«-". h^ stood as the .deal of h.s class. He was, indeed, the Custom- stir t'h" r r""' "' " '" ^^-'»' 'I'' "-- ts off ' ' ■" "" '"""""°" ''"^^ "'^. "here ■ts officers are appointed to subserve , eir own profit and convenience, and seldom with a lead- ing reference to their fitness for the duty to be fh r • ''7 """^^ P^^''-« -ek els'ewhere mevtable necessity, as a magnet attracts steel- 34 "WA eSca rlef Letter filings, so did our man of business draw to him- self the difficulties which everybody met with. With an easy condescension, and kind forbear- ance towards our stupidity, — which, to his order of mind, must have seemed little short of crime, — would he forthwith, by the merest touch of his finger, make the incomprehensible as clear as daylight. The merchants valued him not less than we, his esoteric friends. His integrity was perfect : it was a law of nature with him, rather than a choice or a principle ; nor can it be other- wise than the main condition of an intellect so remarkably clear and accurate as his, to be honest and regular in the administration of affairs. A stain on his conscience, as to anything that came within the range of his vocation, would trouble such a man very much in the same way, though to a far greater degree, than an error in the balance of an account, or an ink-blot on the fair page of a book of record. Here, in a word, — and it is a rare instance in my life, — I had met with a per- son thoroughly adapted to the situation which he held. Such were some of the people with whom I now found myself connected. I took it in good part, at the hands of Providence, that I was thrown Into a position so little akin to my past habits, and set myself seriously to gather from it whatever profit was to be had. After my 2tfer w to him- net with. 1 forbear- his order of crime, touch of IS clear as not less Jgrity was m, rather be other- tellect so be honest Tairs. A hat came J trouble :hough to B balance page of a id it is a ith a per- which he whom I in good It I was my past her from Lfter my °g/ie Scarlet Letter 35 fellowsh.p of to,l and impracticable schemes with the dreamy brethren of Broolc Farm ; after living fnenT,rr'"'""'= ^"""''^ influence of af ■ntellect I.lce Emerson's ; after those wild, free bt L?" ^.^^'l'"''. -d"lging fantastic specu b ons, bes,de our fire of fallen boughs.'with Eilery Chann.ng; after talking with Thoreau age at Walden ; after growing fastidious by sym- culture; after becoming imbued with poetic sen- timent at Longfellow's hearthstone f- it was t,me at length, that I should exercise other Tc! fold f 7.7T"' '"^ """"»'' "y^elf with food for wh,ch I had hitherto had little appetite Even he old Inspector was desirable, as aTa ^^ of d,et. to a man who had known Alcott I look upon n as an evidence, in some measure of a system naturally well balanced, and lacklg no essen .al part of a thorough organization, tha.^ w.th such associates to remember, I could mingle at once w,th men of altogether diiferent qualiti! and never murmur at the change "l""""". of Met''' "' ''""°"' ""^ °''>«^' -=« "ow of l.ttle moment m my regard. I cared not at ^h.sper.od. for books; they were apart from m Nature, -except ,t were human nature -the nature that is developed in earth and k'y was m one sense, hidden from me; and all the im!^N 36 T5/ic Scarlet Letter riii native delight, wherewith it had been spiritual- ized, passed away out of my mind. ^ A gift, a faculty if it had not departed, was suspended and inanimate within me. There would have been something sad, unutterably dreary, in all this, had I not been conscious that it lay at my own option to recall whatever was valuable in the past. It might be true, indeed, that this was a life which could not with impunity be lived too long ; else, it might have made me permanently other than I had been without transforming me into any shape which it would be worth my while to take. But I never considered it as other than a transitory life. There was always a prophetic instinct, a low whisper in my ear, that, within no long period, and whenever a nev/ change of cus- tom should be essential to my good, a change would come. Meanwhile, there I was, a Surveyor of the Revenue, and, so far as I have been able to un- derstand, as good a Surveyor as need be. A man of thought, fancy, and sensibility (had he ten times the Surveyor's proportion of those qualities) may, at any time, be a man of affairs, if he will only choose to give himself the trouble. My fellow-officers, and the merchants and sea- captains with whom my official duties brought me into any manner of connection, viewed me in no other light, and probably knew me in no , m 1 rtter spiritual- A gift, a uspended uld have •y, in all lay at my t)le in the his was a lived too manently ming me my while ther than prophetic ivithin no 2 of cus- a change r of the le to un- be. A (had he of those )f affairs, : trouble, and sea- brought ewed me ne in no ^Ae Scarlet Letter 37 other character. None of them, I presume, had ever read a page of my inditing, or would have cared a fig the more for me, if they had read them all ; nor would it have mended the matter in the least, had those same unprofitable pages been written with a pen like that of Burns or of Chaucer, each of whom was a Custom-House officer m his day, as well as I. It is a good les- son—though it may often be a hard one — for a man who has dreamed of literary fame, and of making for himself a rank among the world's dignitaries by such means, to step aside out of the narrow circle in which his claims are recog- nized, and to find how utterly devoid of signifi- cance, beyond that circle, is all that he achieves, and all he aims at. I know not that I especially needed the lesson, either in the way of warning or rebuke ; but, at any rate, I learned it thor- oughly : nor, it gives me pleasure to reflect, did the truth, as it came home to my perception, ever cost me a pang, or require to be thrown off in a sigh. In the way of literary talk, it is true the Naval Officer— an excellent fellow, who came into ofiice with me and went out only a little later — would often engage me in a discussion about one or the other of his favorite topics. Napoleon or Shakespeare. The Collector's junior clerk, too,— a young gentleman who, it was whispered, occasionally covered a sheet of 38 'nsAe Sc arlet Letter Uncle Sam's letter-paper with what (at the dis- tance of a few yards) looked very much lil-e poetry, — used now and then to speak to me of books, as matters with which I might pos- sibly be conversant. This was my all of lettered intercourse; and it was quite sufficient for mv necessities. No longer seeking nor caring that my name should be blazoned abroad on title-pages, J smiled to think that it had now another kind of vogue. The Custom-House marker im- printed it, with a stencil and black paint, on pepper-bags, and baskets of anatto, and cigar- boxes, and bales of all kinds of dutiable mer- chandise, in testimony that these commodities had paid the impost, and gone regularly through the office. Borne on such queer vehicle of fame, a knowledge of my existence, so far as a name conveys it, was carried where it had never been before, and, I hope, will never go again. But the past was not dead. Once in a great while, the thoughts, that had seemed so vital and so active, yet had been put to rest so quietly, re- vived agam. One of the most remarkable occa- sions, when the habit of bygone days awoke in me, was that which brings it within the law of literary propriety to ofFer the public the sketch which I am now writing. In the second story of the Custom-House ) the dis- uch lil-e k to me ght pos- f lettered for mv iiy name pages, J ler kind ker im- taint, on id cigar- ale mer- modities through of fame, a name '^er been • a great ntal and etly, re- )le occa- ivoke in law of : sketch -House "^Ae Scarlet Letter 3q there is a large room, in which the brick-work and naked rafters have never been covered with panellmg and plaster. The edifice-originallv projected on a scale adapted to the old commercial enterprise of the port, and with an idea of subse- quent prosperity destined never to be realized — contams far more space than its occupants know what to do with. This airy hall, therefore, over th. Collector s apartments, remains unfinished to this day, and, in spite of the aged cobwebs that festoon Its dusky beams, appears still to await the labor of the carpenter and mason. At one end of the room, in a recess, were a number of bar- rels, piled one upon another, containing bundles of official documents. Large quantities of simi- lar rubbish lay lumbering the floor. It was sorrowful to think how many days and weeks and months and years of toil had been wasted on these musty papers, which were now only an encumberance on earth, and were hidden away in this forgotten corner, never more to be glanced at by human eyes. But, then, what reams of other manuscripts - filled not with the dulness ot official formalities, but with the thought of inventive brains and the rich effusion of deep hearts— had gone equally to oblivion; and that, moreover, without serving a purpose in their day, as these heaped-up papers had, and - saddest of all -without purchasing for their writers I 40 ISA e Scarlet Letter the comfortable livelihood which the clerks of the Custom-House had gained by these worth- less scratchings of the pen ! Yet not altogether worthless, perhaps, as materials of local history. Here, no doubt, statistics of the former com- merce of Salem might be discovered, and me- morials of her princely merchants, — old King Derby,— old Billy Gray,— Old Simon Forrester, — and many another magnate in his day; whose powdered head, however, was scarcely in the tomb, before his mou.itain pile of wealth began to dwindle. The founders of the greater part of the families which now compose the aristocracy of Salem might here be traced, from the petty and obscure beginnings of their traffic, at periods generally much posterior to the Revolution, up- ward to what their children look upon as long- established rank. Prior to the Revolution, there is a dearth of records; the earlier documents and archives of the Custom-House having, probably, been car- ried off to Halifax, when all the King's officials accompanied the British army in its flight from Boston. It has often been a matter of regret with me ; for, going back, perhaps, to the days of the Protectorate, those papers must have con- tained many references to forgotten or remem- bered men, and to antique customs, which would have affected me with the same pleasure as when "^Ae Scarlet Letter 4z I used to pick up Indian arrow-heads in the field near the Old Manse. But, one idle and rainy day, it was my fortune to make a discovery of some little interest. Pok- ing and burrowing into tht- hcaped-up rubbish in the corner; unfolding one and another document and readmg .ne names of vessels that had long ago foundered at sea or rotted at the wharves and those of merchants, never heard of now on Change, nor very readily decipherable on their mossy tombstones ; glancing at such matters with the saddened, weary, half-reluctant interest which i we bestow on the corpse of dead activity,- and exertmg my fancy, sluggish with little use, to raise up from these d- ,o„,, an image of the old town's brighter aspect, when India was a new region, and only Salem knew the way thither ■— I chanced to lay my hand on a small package carefully done up in a piece of ancient yellow parchment. This envelope had the air of an official record of some period long past, when clerks engrossed their stiff and formal chiroc^ • raphy on more substantial materials than at present. There was something about it thi t quiCKened an instinctive curiosity, and made me undo the faded red tape, that tied up the pack- age, with the sense that a treasure would here be brought to light. Unbending the rigid folds of the parchment cover, I found it to be a com- 4» '^Ae S carl ef Letter mmn mission, under the hand and seal of Governor Shirley, in favor of one Jonathan Pue, as Sur- veyor of his Majesty's Customs for the port of Salem, in the Province of Massachusetts Bay. I remembered to have read (probably in Felt's Annals) a notice of the decease of Mr. Surveyor Pue, about fourscore years ago ; and likewise, in a newspaper of recent times, an account of the digging up of his remains in the little graveyard of St. Peter's Church, during the renewal of that edifice. Nothing, if I rightly call to mind, was left of my respected predecessor, save an imper- fect skeleton, and some fragments of apparel, and a wig of majestic frizzle ; which, unlike the head that it once adorned, was in very satisfactory preservation. But, on examining the papers which the parchment commission served to en- velop, I found more traces of Mr. Pue's mental part, and the internal operations of his head, than the frizzled wig had contained of the venerable skull itself They were documents, in short, not official, but of a private nature, or, at least, written in his private capacity, and apparently with his own hand. I could account for their being included in the heap of Custom-House lumber only by the fact that Mr. Pue's death had happened sud- denly ; and that these papers, which he probably kept in his official desk, had never come to the ; t etter Governor le, as Sur- he port of :s Bay. I in Felt's Surveyor kewise, in nt of the graveyard 'al of that mind, was an imper- parel, and the head itisfactory le papers id to en- 's mental lead, than venerable t official, i^ritten in his own included only by ined sud- probably e to the "g^ e Scarlef Letter a^ knowledge of his heirs, or were supposed to re- late to the business of the revenue. On the transfer or the archives to Halifax, this package proving to be of no public concern, was left be- hmd and had remained ever since unopened. The ancent Surveyor -being little molested, I suppose, at that early day, with business per- tammg to his office-seems to have devoted ome of his many leisure hours to researches as a local antiquarian, and other inquisitions of a sim- ilar nature. These supplied material for petty activity to a mind that would otherwise have been eaten up with rust. A portion of his facts, by the by, did me good service in the prepara- tion of the article entitled « Main Street," in- cluded in the present volume. The remainder may perhaps be applied to purposes equally valuable, hereafter ; or not impossibly may be worked up, so far as they go, into a regular history of Salem, should my veneration for the natal soil ever impel me to sc pious a task. Meanwhile, they shall be at the command of any gentleman, inclined, and competent, to take the unprofitable labor off my hands. As a final disposition, I contemplate depositing them with the Essex Historical Society. But the object that most drew my attention, in the mysterious package, was a certain affair of fine red cloth, much worn and faded. There 44 "^Ae Scarlet Letter were traces about it of gold embroidery, which, however, was greatly frayed and defaced ; so that none, or very little, of the glitter was left. It had been wrought, as was easy to perceive, with wonderful skill of needlework ; and the stitch (as I am assured by ladies conversant with such mys- teries) gives evidence of a now forgotten art, not to be recovered even by the process of picking out the threads. This rag of scarlet cloth, — for time and wear and a sacrilegious moth had re- duced it to little other than a rag, — on careful examination, assumed the shape of a letter. It was the capital letter A. By an accurate meas- urement, each limb proved to be precisely three inches and a quarter in length. It had been intended, there could be no doubt, as an or- namental article of dress ; but how it was to be worn, or what rank, honor, and dignity, in by- past times, were signified by it, was a riddle which (so evanescent are the fashions of the world in these particulars) I saw little hope of solving. And yet it strangely interested me. My eyes fastened themselves upon the old scar- let letter, and would not be turned aside. Cer- tainly, there was some deep meaning in it, most worthy of interpretation, and which, as it were, streamed forth from the mystic symbol, subtly communicating itself to my sensibilities, but evading the analysis of my mind. "S/ic Scarlet Letter 45 While thus perplexed, — and cogitating, among other hypotheses, whether the letter might not have been one of those decorations which the white men used to contrive, in order to take tlie eyes of Indians, — I happened to place it on my breast. It seemed to me, — the reader may smile, but must not doubt my word, — it seemed to me, then, that I experienced a sensation not altogether physical, yet almost so, as of burning heat ; and as if the letter were not of red cloth, but red-hot iron. J '■ iddered, and involuntarily let it fall upon Ih ; rloor. In the absorbing contemplation of the scarlet letter, I had hitherto neglected to examine a small roll of dingy paper, around which it had been twisted. This I now opened, and had the satis- faction to find, recorded by the old Surveyor's pen, a reasonably complete explanation of the whole afiuir. There were several foolscap sheets containing many particulars respecting the life and conversation of one Hester Prynne, who appeared to have been rather a noteworthy per- sonage in the view of our ancestors. She had flourished during the period between the early days of Massachusetts and the close of the sev- enteenth century. Aged persons, alive in the time of Mr. Surveyor Pue, and from whose oral testimony he had made up his narrative, remem- bered her, in their youth, as a very old, but not 46 ISA e Scarlet Letter |( r m dec epit woman, of a stately and solemn aspect. It had been her habit, from an almost immemorial date, to go about the country as a kind of volun- tary nurse, and doing whatever miscellaneous good she might; taking upon herself, likewise, to give advice in all matters, especially those of the heart ; by wh.jh means, as a person of such propensities inevitably must, she gained from many people the reverence due to an angel, but, I should imagine, was looked upon by others as an intruder and a nuisance. Prying further into the manuscript, I found the record of other doings and sufferings of this singular woman, for most of which the reader is referred to the story entitled "The Scarlet Letter;" and it should be borne carefully in mind, that the main facts of that story are authorized and authenticated by the document of Mr. Surveyor Pue. The original papers, together with the scarlet letter itself, — a most curious reiic, — are still in my possession, and shall be freely exhibited to whomsoever, in- duced by the great interest of the narrative, may desire a sight of them. I must not be under- stood as affirming, that, in the dressing up of the tale, and imagining the motives and modes of passion that influenced the characters who figure in it, I have invariably confined myself within the limits of the old Surveyor's half a dozen sheets of foolscap. On the contrary, I have allowed tter "^Ae Scarlet Letter 47 I aspect, lemorial f volun- >us good , to give le heart ; Densities ople the magine, :r and a script^ I ifferings lich the "The : borne of that by the original slf, — a session, ver, in- '^e, may under- > of the )des of ) figure hin the sheets illowed myself, as to such pomts, nearly or altogether as much license as if the facts had been entirely of my own invention. What I contend for is the authenticity of the outline. This incident recalled my mind, in some de- gree, to its old track. There seemed to be here the groundwork of a tale. It impressed me as if the ancient Surveyor, in his garb of a hundred years gone by, and wearing his immortal wig, — which was buried with him, but did not perish in the grave,- — had met me in the deserted cham- ber of the Custom-House. In his port was the dignity of one who had borne his Majesty's com- mission, and who was therefore illuminated by a ray of the splendor that shone so dazzlingly about the throne. How unlike, alus ! the hang-dog look of a republican official, who, as the servant of the people, feels himself less than the kast, and below the lowest, of his masters. With his^ own ghostly hand, the obscurely seen but majes- tic figure had imparted to me the scarlet symbol, and the little roll of explanatory manuscript. With his own ghostly voice, he had exhorted me, on the sacred consideration of my filial duty and reverence towards him, — who might reason- ably regard himself as my official ancestor, — to bring his mouldy and moth-eaten lucubrations before the public. "Do this," said the ghost of Mr. Surveyor Pue, emphatically nodding the 48 "^he Scarlet Le tter head that looked so imposing within its memor- able wig, — "do this, and the profit shall be all your own! You will shortly need it; for it is not in your days as it was in mine, when a man's office was a life-lease, and oftentimes an heirloom. But, I charge you, in this matter of old Mis- tress Prynne, give to your predecessor's memory the credit which will be rightfully due ! " And I said to the ghost of Mr. Surveyor Pue, " I will ! " On Hester Prynne's story, therefore, I be- stowed much thought. It was the subject of my {meditations for many an hour, while pacing to and fro across my room, or traversing, with a hundred-fold repetition, the long extent from the front-door of the Custom- House to the side- entrance, and back again. Great were the weari- ness and annoyance of the old Inspector and the Weighers and Gaugers, whose slumbers were dis- turbed by the unmercifully lengthened tramp of my passing and returning footsteps. Remeh; bering their own former habits, they used to say that the Surveyor was walking the quarter-deck. They probably fancied that my sole object and, indeed, the sole object for which a sane man could ever put himself into voluntary motion was, to get an appetite for dinner. And to say the truth, an appetite, sharpened by the east wind that generally blew along the passage, was the etfer s memor- lall be all ; for it is n a man's heirloom, old Mis- s memory !" And Pue, « I re, I be- ;ct of my racing to [, with a from the the side- he weari- and the were dis- :ramp of Remeu: d to say ter-deck. abject — ane man lotion — d to say ast wind was the ^Ae Scarlet Letter 49 only valuable result of so much indefatigable exercse. So little adapted is the atmosphere oi a Custom-House to the delicate harvest of fancy and sensibility, that, had I remained there through ten Presidencies yet to come, I doubt whether the tale of " The Scarlet Letter " would ever have been brought before the public eye. My imagmation was a tarnished mirror It would not reflect, or only with miserable dim- ness, the figures with which I did my best to people it. The characters of the narrative would not be warmed and rendered malleable by any heat that I could kindle at my intellectual forge They would take neither the glow of passion nor the tenderness of sentiment, but retained all the rigidity of dead corpses, and stared me in the face with a fixed and ghastly grin of contemptu- ous defiance. « What have you to do with us? " that exprtission seemed to say. « The little power you might once have possessed over the tribe of unrealities is gone I You have bartered it for a pittance of the public gold. Go, then, and earn your wages : " In short, the almost torpid crea- tures of my own fancy twitted me with imbecility, and not without fair occasion. It was not merely during the three hours and a half which Uncle Sam claimed as his share of my daily life, that this wretched numbness held possession of me. It went with me on my sea- 4 50 '^A e Scarlet Letter ii'i ;.);ii; r^'!! shore walks, and rambles into the country, when- ever — which was seldom and reluctaiitly — I bestirred myself to seek that invigorating charm of Nature, which used to give me such freshness and activity of thought, the moment that I stepped across the threshold of the Old Manse. The same torpor, as regarded tliC capacity for intellec- tual effort, accompanied me home, and weighed upon me in the chamber which I most absurdly termed my study. Nor did it quit me, when, late at night, I sat in the deserted parlor, lighted only by the glimmering coal-fire and the moon, striving to picture forth imaginary scenes, which, the next day, might flow out on the brightening page in many-hued description. If the imaginative faculty refused to act at such an hour, it might well be deemed a hopeless case. Moonlight, in a familiar room, falling so white upon the carpet, and showing all its figures so distincdy, — making every object so minutely visible, yet so unlike a morning or noontide visi- bility, — is a medium the most suitable for a ro- mance-writer to get acquainted with his illusive guests. There is the little domestic scenery of the well-known apartment ; the chairs, with each its separate individuality ; the centre-table, sus- taining a work-basket, a volume or two, and an extinguishes lamp ; the sofa ; the bookcase ; the picture on the wall ; — all these details, so com- . rtter V, when, mtly — I ig charm freshness [ stepped ie. The intellec- weighed absurdly le, when, ■, lighted le moon, s, which, ghtening t at such less case, so white gures so ninutely :ide visi- for a ro- j illusive ;nery of ith each lie, sus- and an ise ; the so com- 'g/ie Scarlet Letter 51 pletely seen, are so spiritualized by the unusual light, that they seem to lose their actual sub- stance, and become things of intellect. Nothing is too small or too trifling to undergo this change, and acquire dignity thereby. A child's shoe ; the doll, seated in her little wicker carriage; the hobby-horse; — whatever, in a word, has been used or played with, during the day, is now in- vested with a quality of strangeness and remote- ness, though still almost as vividly present as by daylight. Thus, therefore, the floor of our famil- iar room has become a neutral territory, some- where between the real world and fairy-land, where the Actual and the Imaginary may meet, and each imbue itself with the nature of the other. Ghosts might enter here, without aflrighting us. It would be too much in keeping with the scene to excite surprise, were we to look about us and discover a form beloved, but gone hence, now sit- ting quietly in a streak of this magic moonshine, with an aspect that would make us doubt whether it had returned from afar, or had never once stirred from our fireside. The somewhat dim coal-fire has an essential influence in producing the efl^ect which I would describe. It throws its unobtrusive tinge throughout the room, with a faint ruddiness upon the walls and ceiling, and a reflected gleam from the polish of the furniture. This warmer sa '^A eSca rlet Letter light mingles itself with the cold spirituality of the moonbeams, and communicates, as it were, a heart and sensibilities of human tenderness to the forms which fancy summons up. It converts them from snow-imagt::. into men and women. Glancing at the looking-glass, we behold — deep within its haunted verge - - the smouldering glow of the half-extinguished anthracite, the white moonbeams on the floor, and a repetition of all the gleam and shadow of the picture, with one remove further from the actual, and nearer to the imaginative. Then, at such an hour, and with this scene before him, if a man, sitting all alone, cannot dream strange things, and make them look like truth, he need never try to write romances. - But, for myself, during the whole of my Cus- tom-House experience, moonlight and sunshine, and the glow of firelight, were just alike in my regard ; and neither of them was of one whit more avail than the twinkle of a tallow-candle. An entire class of susceptibilities, and a gift connected with them, — of no great richness or value, but the best I had, — was gone from me. It is my belief, however, that, had I attempted a different order of composition, my faculties would not have been found so pointless and in- efficacious. I might, for instance, have contented myself with writing out the narratives of a veteran ^Ae Scarlet Letter 53 shipmaster, one of the Inspectors, whom I should be most ungrateful not to mention, since scarcely a day passed that he did not stir me to laughter and admiration by his marvellous gifts as a story- teller. Could I have preserved the picturesque force of his style, and the humorous coloring which nature taught him how to throw over his descriptions, the result, 1 honestly believe, would have been something new in literature. Or I might readily have found a more serious task. It was a folly, with the materiality of thu daily life pressing so intrusively upon me, to att ;mpt to fling myself back into another age ; or to insist on creating the semblance of a world out of airy matter, when, at every moment, the impalpable beauty of my soap-bubble was broken by the rude contact of some actual circumstance. The wiser effort would have been, to diflfiise thought and imagination through the opaque substance of to-day, and thus to make it a bright transpar- ency; to spiritualize the burden that began to weigh so heavily ; to seek, resolutely, the true and indestructible value that lay hidden in the petty and wearisome incidents, and ordinary characters, with which I was now conversant. The fault was mine. The page of life that was spread out before me seemed dull and commonplace, only because I had not fathomed its deeper import. A better book than I shall ever write was there ; leaf after 54 'g/i e Scarlet Lett er leaf presenting; itself to me, just as it was written out by the reality of the flitting hour, and vanish- ing as fast as written, only because my biain wanted the insight and my hand the cunning to transcribe it. At some future day, it may be, I shall remember a few scattered fragments and broken paragraphs, and write them down, and find the letters turn to gold upon the page. These perceptions have come too late. At the instant I was only conscious that what would have been a pleasure once was now a hopeless toil. There was no occasion to make much moan about this state of affairs. I had ceased to be a writer of tolerably poor tales and essays, and had become a tolerably good Surveyor of the Customs. That was all. But, nevertheless, it is anything but agreeable to be haunted by a suspicion that one's intellect is dwindling away ; or exhaling, without your consciousness, like ether out of a phial ; so that, at every glance, you find a smaller and less volatile residuum. Of the fact, there could be no doubt ; and, examining myself and others, I was led to conclusions, in reference to the efl=ect of public office on the character, not very favor- able to the mode of life in question. In some other form, perhaps, I may hereafter develop these effects. Suflice It here to say, that a Custom-House officer, of long continuance, can hardly be a very praiseworthy or respectable per- '^Ae Scarlet Letter 55 sonage, for many reasons; one of them, the tenure by which he holds his situation, and another, the very nature of his business, which — though, I trust, an honest one — is of such a sort that he does not share in the united effort of mankind. An effect — which I Relieve o be observable, more or less, in every in iiridual v \o has occupied the position — is, that, .'l.iie ]■. , leans on the mighty arm of the RepuL.ic, his own proper strength departs from him. He loses, in an extent proportioned to the weakness or force of his original nature, the capability of self-support. It he possess an unusual share of native energy, or the enervating magic of place do not operate too long upon him, his forfeited powers may be redeemable. The ejected officer — fortunate in the unkindly shove that sends him forth betimes, to struggle amid a struggling world — may return to himself, and become all that he has ever been. But this seldom happens. He usually keec.s his ground just long enough for his own ruin, and is then thrust out, with sinews all unstrung, to totter along the difficult footpath of life as he best may. Conscious of his own infirmity, — that his tem- pered steel and elasticity are lost, — he forever afterwards looks wistfully about him in quest of support external to himself His pervading and continual hope — a hallucination which, in the 56 ^Ae Scarlet Letter face of all discouragement, and making light of impossibilities, haunts him while he lives, and, I fancy, like the convulsive throes of the cholera torments him for a brief space after death —■ ij that finally, and in no long time, by some happy comcidence of circumstances, he shall be restored to office. This faith, more than anything else, steals the pith and availability out of whatever enterprise he may dream of undertaking. Why should he toil and moil, and be at so much trouble to pick himself up out of the mud, when in a httle while hence, the strong arm of hij Uncle will raise and support him .? Why should he work for his living here, or go to dig gold in California, when he is so soon to be made happy at monthly intervals, with a little pile of glitter- ing coin out of his Uncle's pocket .? It is sadly curious to observe how slight a taste of office suffices to infect a poor fellow with this singular disease. Uncle Sam's gold -meaning no dis- respect to the worthy old gentleman - has, in this respect, a quality of enchantment like that of the Devil's wages. Whoever touches it should look well to himself, or he may find the bargain to go hard againn him, involving, if not his soul, yet many of its better attributes ; its sturdy force, its courage and constancy, its truth, its self-reh-^nce, and all that gives the emphasis to manly character. 2f(er J light of es, and, I ~ cholera, eath — is le happy restored ling else, whatever r. Why so much d, when, 1 of his f should ■ gold in ; happy, ' glitter- is sadly )f office singular no dis~ has, in that of should bargain lot his sturdy Jth, its asis to "^Ae Scarlet Letter 57 Here was a fine prospect in the distance ! Not that the Surveyor brought the lesson home to himself, or admitted that he could be so utterly undone, either by continuance in office, or eject- ment. Yet my reflections were not the r ost comfortable. I began to grow melancholy and I restless; continually prying into my mind, to ' discover which of its poor properties were gone, and what degree of detriment had already - crued to the remainder. I endeavored to calculate how much longer I could stay in the Custom-House, and yet go forth a man. To confess the truth, it was my greatest apprehension, — as it would never be a measure of policy to turn out so quiet an individual as myself, and it being hardly in the nature of a public officer to resign, — it was my chief trouble, therefore, that I was likely to grow gray and decrepit in the Surveyorship, and become much such another animal as the old Inspector. Might it not, in the tedious lapse of official life that lay before me, finally be with me as it was with this venerable friend, — to make the dinner- hour the nucleus of the day, and to spend the rest of it, as an old dog spends it, asleep in the sunshine or in the shade ? A dreary look-forward this, for a man who felt it to be the best definition of happiness to live throughout the whole range of his faculties and sensibilities! But, all this while, I was giving myself very unnecessary 58 '^Ae Scarlet Letter alarm. Providence had meditated better things for me than I could possibly imagine for my- self. A remarkable event of the third year of my Surveyorship — to adopt the tone of " P. P." I was the election of General Taylor to the Presi- ' dency. It is essential, in order to a complete esti- mate of the advantages of official life, to view the incumbent at the incoming of a hostile adminis- tration. His position is then one of the most singularly irksome, and, in every contingency, disagreeable, that a wretched mortal can possibly occupy ; with seldom an alternative of good, on either hand, although what presents itself to him as the worst event may very probably be the best. But it is a strange experience, to a man of pride and sensibility, to know that his interests are within the control of individuals who neither love nor understand him, and by whom, since one or the other must needs happen, he would rather be injured than obliged. Strange, too, for one who has kept his calmness throughout the contest, to observe the bloodthirstiness that is developed in the hour of triumph, and to be conscious that he is himseii among its objects! There are few uglier traits of human nature than this tendency — which I now witnessed in men no worse than their neighbors — to grow cruel, merely because they possessed the power of inflicting harm. If rffer sr things for my- ar of my 3 p »» le Presi- )Iete esti- view the adminis- :he most ingency, possibly jood, on ' to him the best. of pride ests are her love one or ather be )ne who ntest, to oped in that he are few endency se than because ■m. If l§/ie Scarlet Letter 59 the guillotine, as applied to office-holders, were a literal fact instead of one of the most apt of metaphors, it is my sincere belief that the active members of the victorious party were sufficiently excited to have chopped off all our heads, and have thanked Heaven for the opportunity ! It appears to me— who have been a calm and curi- ous observer, as well in victory as defeat — that this fierce and bitter spirit of malice and revenge has never distinguished the many triumphs of mv own party as it now did that of the Whigs. The Democrats take the offices, as a general rule, be- cause they need them, and because the practice of many years has made it the law of political warfare, which, unless a different system be proclaimed, it were weakness and cowardice to murmur at. But the long habit of victory has made them generous. They know how to spare, when they see occa- sion ; and when they strike, the axe may be sharp, indeed, but its edge is seldom poisoned with ill- will ; nor is.it their custom ignominiously to kick the head which they have just struck off. In short, unpleasant as was my predicament, at best, I saw much reason to congratulate myself that I was on the losing side, rather than the triumphant one. If, heretofore, I had been none of the warmest of partisans, I began now, at this season of peril and adversity, to be pretty acutely sensible with which party my predilections 60 "IS Ac Scarlet Letter lay ; nor was it without something like regret and shame, that, according to a reasonable calculation of chances, I s, v my own prospect of retaining office to be better than those of my Democratic brethren. But who can see an inch into futurity, beyond his nose ? My ovn head was the first that fell ! The moment when a man's head drops off is seldom or never, I am inclined to think, precisely the most agreeable of his life. Nevertheless, like the greater part of our misfortunes, even so serious a contingency brings its remedy and con- solation with it, if the sufferer will but make the best, rather than the worst, of the accident which has befallen him. In my particular case, the con- solatory topics were close at hand, and, indeed, had suggested themselves to my meditations a considerable time before it was requisite to use them. In view of n^v previous weariness of office, and vague thoughts oi resignation, my fortune somewhat resembled that of a person who should entertain an idea of committing suicide, and, although beyond his hopes, meet with the good hap to be n urdered. In the Custom-House, as before in the Old Manse, I had spent three years ; a term long enough to rest a weary brain ; long enough to break off old intellectual habits, and make room for new ones ; long enough, and too long, to have lived in an unnatural state, doing 'g/ic Scarlet Letter 6i what was really of no advantage nor delight to any human being, and withholding myself from toil that v/ould, at least, have stilled an unquiet im- pulse in me. Then, moreover, as regarded his unceremonious ejectment, the kte Surveyor was not altogether ill-pleased to be recognized by the Wh:gs as an enemy ; since his inactivity in political affairs — his tendency to roam, at will, in that broad and quiet field where all mankind may meet, rather than confine himself to those narrow paths where brethren of the same house- hold must diverge from one another — had some- times made it questionable with his brother Democrats whether he was a friend. Now, after he had won the crown of martyrdom (though with no longer a head to wear it on), the point might be looked upon as settled. Finally, little heroic as he was, it seemed more decorous to be overthrown in the downfall of the party with which he had been content to stand, than to remain a forlorn survivor, when so many worthier men were falling; and, at last, after subsisting for four years on the mercy of a hostile adminis- tration, to be compelled then to define his posi- tion anew, and claim the yet more humiliating mercy of a friendly one. Meanwhile the press had taken up my affair, and kept me, for a week or two, careering through the public prints, in my decapitated state, like 6a T§/ie Scarlet Letter muMm tkv:-.fmi.%i.)^m2 gnin, Irving's Headless Horseman ; ghrwtly an. and longing to be buried, as a politicall/ dead man ought. So much for ray figurative self. The real human being, ali this time, with his head safely on his shoulders, had b' .ugh: himself to the comfortable conclusion that vverythliig was for the best, and, making an invescment in ink, pa[«<'r, and steel-pens, had opened his long-disused writi!?g-desk, and was again a literary man. Now i was that the lucubrations of my ancient predecessor, Mr. Surveyor Pue, came into play. Rusty through long idleness, some little space was requisite before my intellectual machinery could be brought to work upon the tale, with an effect in any degree satisfactory. Even yet, though my thoughts were ultimately much ab- sorbed in the task, it wears, to my eye, a stern and sombre aspect ; too much ungladdened by genial sunshine ; too little relieved by the tender and familiar influences which soften almost every scene of nature and real life, and, undoubtedly, should soften every picture of them. This un- captivating effect is perhaps due to the period of hardly accomplished revolution, and still seeth- ing turmoil, in which the story shaped itself. It is no indication, however, of a lack of cheerfulness in the writer's mind ; for he was hap^ if r, while straying through the gloom of the unless fantasies, 'in at any time since '■'e h u quitted TS^e Scarlet Letter 63 the Old Manse. Some of the briefer articles, which contribute to make up the volume, have likewise been written since my involuntary with- drawal from the toils and honors of public life, and the remainder are gleaned from annuals and magazines of such antique date that they have gone round the circle, and come back to novelty again.* Keeping up the metaphor of the political guillotine, the whole may be considered as the Posthumous Papers of a Decapitated Sur- veyor ; and the sketch which I am now bringing to a close, if too autobiographical for a modest person to publish in his lifetime, will readily be excused in a gentleman who writes from beyond the grave. Peace be with all the world! My blessing on my friends 1 My forgiveness to my enemies ! For I am in the realm of quiet ! The life of the Custom-House lies like a dream behind me. The old Inspector, — who, by the by, I regret to say, was overthrown and killed by ahorse, some time ago; else he would certainly have lived forever, — he, and all those other ven- erable personages who sat with him at the receipt of custom, are but shadows in my view ; white- headed and wrinkled images, which my fancy used to sport with, and has now flung aside * At the time of writing this article, the author intended to publish, along with " The Scarlet Letter," several shorter tales and sketches. These it has been thought advisable to defer. g4 Is Ae Scarlet Letter I ^Zih2 forever. The merchants, — Pingree, Phillips, Shepard, Upton, Kimball, Bertram, Hunt, — these, and many other names, which had such a classic familiarity for my ear six months ago, these men of traffic, who seemed to occupy so im- portant a position in the world, — how little time has it required to disconnect me from them all, not merely in act, but recollection ! It is with an effort that I recall the figures and appellations of these few. Soon, likewise, my old native town will loom upon me through the haze of memory, a r.iist brooding over and around it; as if it were no portion of the real earth, but an overgrown village in cloud-land, with only imag- mary inhabitants to people its wooden houses, and walk its homely lanes, and the unpicturesque pro- lixity of its main street. Henceforth it ceases to be a reality of my life. I am a citizen of some- where else. My good townspeople will not much regret me; for — though it has been as dear an object as any, in my literary efforts, to be of some importance in their eyes, and to win myself a pleasant memory in this abode and burial-place of so many of my forefathers — M,?r^ has never been, for me, the genial atmosphere which a literary man requires, in order to ripen the best harvest of his mind. I shall do better amongst other faces; and these familiar ones, it need hardly be said, will do just as well without me. ?ffer Phillips, Hunt, — d such a s ago,— py so im- ittle time them all, t is with jellations i native haze of ound it; , but an ly imag- ises, and que pro- :eases to >f some- ot much dear an of some nyself a ial-place s never vhich a he best mongst it need )ut me. "^^e Scarlet Letter 65 It may be however, _ O, transporting and tnumphant thought !_ that the greatirand- ch,ldren of the present race may somftimes^rnk kmdly of the scribbler of by-gone days, when the ant,quary of days to come, among the sites mem- orable m the town's history, shall point out the locality of The Town Pump! ^^e (Scarlei Letter WSe ^rison-^oor THRONG of bearded men, in sad-colored garments, and gray, steeple-crowned hats, intermixed with women, some wearing hoods and rtheis bareheaded, was assem- bled in front of a wooden edifice, the door of which was heavily timbered with oak, and studded with iron spikes. The founders of a new colony, whatever Utopia of human virtue and happmess they might originally project, have invariably recog- nized it griong their ea iest practical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil as a cemetery, and another portion as the site of a prison. In accordance witii this rule, it may safely be as- sumed that the forefathers of Boston hcd built the first prison-house sonu -vhere in the vicinity of Cornhill, almost " easonably as thev marked out the first burial our on Isaac Johnson's lot, and round about his grave, which subse- quently became the nucleus of all the confre- gated sepulchres in the old churchyard of King's "^Ae Scarlet Letter 67 Chapel. Certain it is, that, some fifteen or twenty years after the settlement of the town, the wooden jail was already marked with weather- stains and other indications of age, which gave a yet darker aspect to its beetle-browed and gloomy front. The rust on the ponderous iron-work of its oaken door looked lore antique than any- thing else in the New World. Like all that per- tains to crime, it seemed never to have known a youthful era. Before this ugly edifice, and be- tween it and the wheel-track of the street, was a grass-plot, much overgrown with burdock, pig- weed, apple-peru, and such unsightly vegetation, which evidently found something congenial in he soil that had so early borne the black flower of civilized society, a prison. But, on one side oftl ortal, and rooted almost at the threshold, was a wild rose-bush, covered, in this month of June, with its delicate gems, which might be imagined to offer their fragrance and fragile beauty to the prisoner as he went in, and tc he condemned criminal as he came forth to hisdoorn, in token that the deep heart of Nature could pity and be kind to him. This^ose-bush, by a strange chance, has been kept alive in history ; but whether it had merely survived out of the stern old wilderness, so long after the fall of the girantic pines and oaks that originally overshadowed it, — or whether, as there 68 '^he Scarlet Lett er is fair authority for believing, it had sprung up under the footsteps of the sainted Ann Hutchin- son, as she entered the prison-door, — we shall not take upon us to determine. Finding it so directly on the threshold of our narrative, which is now about to issue from that inauspicious portal, we could hardly do otherwise than pluck one of its flowers, and present it to the reader. It may serve, let us hope, to symbolize some sweet moral blossom, that may be found along the track, or relieve the darkening close of a tale \ of human frailty and sorrow. tter ■ung up iutchin- ^e shall ig it so ;, which spicious 1 pluck reader, e some [ along F a tale I tants of fastened WSe aS^arket-Tlace jHE grass-plot before the jail, in 'Prison Lane, on a certain summer I morning, not leps than two cen- fturies ago, was occupied by a /pretty large number of the inhabi- Boston ; all with their eyes intently on the iron-clamped oaken door. Amongst any other population, or at a later period in the history of New England, the grim rigidity that petrified the bearded physiognomies of these good people would have augured some awful business in hand. It could have betokened nothing short of the anticipated execution of some noted culprit, on whom the sentence of a legal tribunal had but confirmed the verdict of public sentiment. But, in that early severity of the Puritan character, an inference of this kind could not so indubitably be drawn. It might be that a sluggish bond-servant, or an undutiful child, whom his pan:n's had given over to the civil authority, was to be corrected at the whip- ping-post. It might be, that an Antinomian, a Quaker, or other heterodox religionist was to be 70 ^ifte Scarlet Letter scourged out of the town, or an idle and vagrant Indian, whom the white man's fire-water had made riotous about the streets, was to be driven with stripes into the shadow of the forest. It might be, too, that a witch, like old Mistress Hibbins, the bitter-tempered widow of the magis- trate, was to die upon the gallows. In either case, there was very much the same solemnity of de- meanor on the part of the spectators ; as befitted //a people amongst whom jreiigion andJaw were al- most identical, and in whose character both were so thoroughly interfused, that the mildest and the severest acts of public discipline were alike made venerable and awful./ Meagre, indeed, and cold was the sympathy that a transgressor might look for, from such bystanders, at the scaffold. On the other hand, a penalty, which, in our days, would infer a degree of mocking infamy and ridi- cule, might then be invested with almost as stern a dignity as the punishment of death itself. It was a circumstance to be noted, on the summer morning when our story begins its course, that the w omen , of whom there were several in the crowd, appeared to take a peculiar ^ interest in whatever penal infliction might be ex- pected to ensue. The age had not so much refine- ment, that any sense of impropriety restrained the wearers of petticoat and farthingale from stepping forth into the public ways, and wedging "^A e Scarlet Letter 71 their not unsubstantial persons, if occasion were, into the throng nearest to the scaffold at an exe- cution. Morally, as well as materratiy, there was a coarser fibre in those wives and maidens of old English birth and breeding than in their fair descendants, separated from them by a series of six or seven generations ; for, throughout that chain of ancestry, every successive mother has transmitted to her child 2 fainter bloom, a more delicate and briefer beauty, and a slighter physical frame, if not a character of less force and solidity, than her own. The women who were now stand- ing about the prison-door stood within less than half a century of the period when the man-like Elizabeth had been the not altogether unsuit- able representative of the sex. They were her countrywomen ; and the beef and ale of their native land, with a moral diet not a whit more refined, entered largely into their composition. The bright morning sun, therefore, shone on broad shoulders and well-developed busts, and on round and ruddy cheeks, that had ripened in the far-off island, and had hardly yet grown paler or thinner in the atmosphere of New England. There was, moreover, a boldness and rotundity of speech among these matrons, as most of them seemed to be, that would startle us at the present day, whether in respect to its purport or its volume of tone. 72 "IS/ie Scarlet Letter j-t-j " Goodwives," said a hard-featured dame of fifty^ ,J! I 'Jl tell ye a piece of my mind^ It would be' greatly for the public behoof, if we women, being of mature age and church-members in good repute, should have the handling of such malefactresses as this-JHester Prjnne.j What think ye, gossips? If the hussy stood up for judgment before us five, that are now here in a knot together, would she come off with such a sentence as the worshipful magistrates have awarded? Marry, I trow not!" " People say," said another, " that the Rev^ erend Master Dimmesdale, her godly pastor, takes" it very grievously to heart that such a scandal should have come upon his congregation." " The magistrates are God-fearing gentlemen, but merciful overmuch, — that is a truth," added a third autumnal matron. " At the very least, they should have put the brand of a hot iron on Hester Prynne's forehead./ Madam Hester would have winced at that, I warrant me. But she, — the naughty baggage, — little will she care what they put upon the bodice of her gown ! Why, look you, she may cover it with a brooch, or such like heathenish adornment, and so walk the streets as brave as ever ! " " Ah, but," interposed, more softly, a young wife, Jkolding a child by the hand, j^ let her cover the^ark^s she will, the pang of it will be always in HVriffeart.'f 4 fter lemen, added least, •t iron Fi ester But II she 3;own ! rooch, I walk yroung cover ilways ^Ae Scarlet Letter 73 What do we talk of marks and brands, whether on the bodice of her gown, or the flesh of her forehead?" cried another female, the ugliest as well as the most pitiless of these self- constituted judges. « This woman has brought shame upon us all, and ought to die. Is there not law for it? Truly, there is, both in the bcnpture and the statute-book. Then let the magistrates, who have made it of no effect, thank themselves if their own wives and daughters go astray ! " 05 " Mercy on us, goodwife," exclaimed a man in the crowd, "is there no virtue in woman, save what spnngs from a wholesome fear of the gal- lows? That is the hardest word yet! Hush now, gossips! for the lock is turning in the prison-door, and here comes Mistress Prvnne herself" ^ The door of the jail being flung open from within, there appeared, in the first place, like a black shadow emerging into sunshine, the grim and grisly presence of the town-beadle, with a sword by his side, and his staff of office in his hand. This personage prefigured and repre-' sented in his aspect the whole dismal severity of the Puritanic code of law, which it was his busi- ness to administer in its final and closest appli- cation to the offender. Stretching forth the ofiicial staff in his left hand, he laid his right ^1 74 '^A e Scarlet Letter upon the shoulder of a young woman, whom he thus drew forward ; until, on the threshold of the prison-door, she repelled him, by an action marked with natural dignity and force of charac- ter, and stepped into the open air, as if by her own free will. She bore in her arms a child, a baby of some three months old, who winked and turned aside its little face from the too vivid light of day; because its existence, heretofore, had brought it acquainted only with the gray twi- light of a dungeon, or other darksome apartment of the prison. When the young woman — the mother of this child — stood fully revealed before the crowd, it seemed to be her first impulse to clasp the infant closely to her bosom; not so much by an impulse of motherly affection, as that she might thereby conceal a certain token, which was wrought or fastened into her dress. In a mo- ment, however, wisely judging that one token of her shame would but poorly serve to hide another, she took the baby on her arm, and, with a burning blush, and yet a haughty smile, and a glance that would not be abashed, looked around . at her townspeople and neighbors. On the breast of her gown, in fine red cloth, surrounded with an elaborate embroidery and fantastic flour- ishes of gold-thread, appeared the letter A.J It was so artistically done, and with so much fertility I ^Ae Scarlet Letter 75 and gorgeous luxuriance of fancy, that it had all the effect of a last and fitting decoration to the apparel wnich she wore ; and which was of a splendor in accordance with the taste of the aee but greatly beyond what was allowed by the sumptuary regulations of the colony. The young woman was tall, with a figure of perfect elegance on a large scale. She had dark and abundant hair, so glossv that it threw off the sunshme with a gleam, and a face which, besides bemg oeautiful from regularity of feature and richness of complexion, had the impressiveness belonging to a marked brow and deep black eyes. She was lady-like, too, after the mannei of the feminine gentility of those days; characterized by a certain state and dignity, rather than by the delicate, evanescent, and indescribable grace which IS now recognized as its indication. And never had Hester Prynne appeared more lady- like, in the antique interpretation of the term than as she issued from the prison. Those who' had before known her, and had expected to be- hold her dimmed and obscured by a disastrous cloud, were astonished, and even startled, to per- ceive how her beauty shone out, and made a halo of the misfortune and ignominy in which she was enveloped. It may be true, that, to a sensitive observer^ there was something exquisitely painfol m It. Her attire, which, indeed, she had w.nn.ht 76 'IS Ae Scarlet Letter for the occasion, in prison, and had modelled much after her own fancy, seemed to express the at- titude of her spirit, the desperate recklessness of her mood, by its wild and picturesque peculi- arity. But the point which drew all eyes, and, as it were, transfigured the wearer, — so that both men and women, who had been familiarly acquainted with Hester Prynne, were now im- pressed as if they beheld her for the first time, — was that Scarlet Letter, so fantastically embroidered and illuminated upon her bosom. It had the efirect of a spell, taking her out of the ordinary relations with humanity, and en- closing her in a sphere by herself. "She hath good skill at her needle, that's certain," remarked one of her female spectators ; « but did ever a woman, before this brazen hussy, contrive such a way of showing it ! Why, gossips, what is it but to laugh in the faces of our godly magistrates, and make a pride out of what they, worthy gentlemen, meant for a punishment?" « It were well," muttered the most iron-visaged of the old dames, " if we stripped Madam Hester's rich gown oflF her dainty shoulders ; and as for the red letter, which she hath stitched so curi- ously, I '11 bestow a rag of mine own rheumatic flannel, to make a fitter one ! " " O, peace, neighbors, peace ! " whispered their youngest companion ; " do not let her hear you I '^he Scarlet Letter 77 , that's ;ctators ; n hussy, gossips, iir godly at they, nt?" i-visaged Hester's id as for so curi- leumatic red their ear you I Not a stitch in that embroidered letter, but she has felt it in her heart." The grim beadle now made a gesture with his staff. " Make way, good people, make way, in the King's name ! " cried he. " Open a passage ; and, I promise ye, Mistress Prynne shall be set where man, woman, and child may have a fair sight of her brave apparel, from this time till an hour past meridian. A blessing on the righteous Colony of the Massachusetts, where iniquity is dragged out into the sunshine! Come along. Madam Hester, and show your scarlet letter in the market-place ! " A lane was forthwith opened through the crowd of spectators. Preceded by the beadle, and attended by an irregular procession of stern- browed men and unkindly visaged women, Hester Prynne set forth towards the place appointed for her punishment. A cowd of eager and curious school-boys, understanding little of the matter in hand, except that it gave them a half-holiday, ran before her progress, turning their heads continually to stare into her face, and at the winking baby in her arms, and at the ignominious letter on her breast. It was no great distance, in those days, from the prison-door to the market-place. Meas- ured by the prisoner's experience, however. It misht be reckoned a iourney of some length • for. 78 "^Ae Scarlet Letter ~-> — \ haughty as her demeanor was, she perchance un- derwent an agony from every footstep of those that thronged to see her, as if her heart had been flung into the street for them all to spurn and trample upon. In our nature, however, there is a provision, alike marvellous and merciful, that the sufferer should never know the intensity of what he endures by its present torture, but chiefly by the pang that rankles after it. With almost a serene deportment, therefore, Hester Prynne passed through this portion of her ordeal, and came to a sort of scaffold, at the western extremity of the market-place. It stood nearly beneath the eaves of Boston's earliest church, and appeared to be a fixture there. In fact, this scaffold constituted a portion of a penal machine, which now, for two or three generations past, has been merely historical and traditionary among us, but was held, in the old time, to be as effectual an agent, in the promotion of good citizenship, as ever was the guillotine among the terrorists of France. It was, in short, the platform of the pillorv ;. and above it rose the framework of that mstrument of discipline, so fashioned as to confine the human head in its tight grasp, and thus hold it up to the public gaze. The very ideal of ignominy was embodied and made manifest in this contrivance of wood and iron. There can be no outrage, methinks, itter ^Ae Scarlet Letter 79 lance un- of those had been mm and •, there is iful, that i ensity of ut chiefly almost a Prynne deal, and extremity leath the appeared i. rtion of or three rical and 1 the old •omotion ruillotine in short, rose the Dline, so id in its e public mbodied of wood lethinks, against our common nature, — whatever be the delmquencies of the individual, — no outrage more flagrant than to forbid the culprit to hide his face for shame ; as it was the essence of this punishment to do. In Hester Prynne's instance however, as not unfrequently in other cases, her sentence bore, that she should stand a certain time upon the platform, but without undergoing that gripe about the neck and confinement of the head, the proneness to which was the most dev- ilish characteristic of this ugly engine. Knowing well her part, she ascended a flight of wooden steps, and was thus displayed to the surrounding multitude, at about the height of a man's shoul- ders above the street. I Had there been a Papist among the crowd of IPuritans, he might have seen in this beautiful woman, so picturesque in her attire and mien, and with the infant at her bosom, an object to remind him of the image of Divine Maternity, which so many illustrious painters have vied with one another to represent ; something which should re- mind him, indeed, but only by contrast, of that sacred image of sinless motherhood, whose infant was to redeem the world. Here, there was the taint of deepest sin in the most sacred quality of human life, working such eflTect, that the world was only the darker for this woman's beauty, and the more lost for the infant that she had borne. 80 "iSAe Scarlet Letter The scene was not without a mixture of awe, such as must always invest the spectacle of guilt and shame in a fellow-creature, before society shall have grown corrupt enough to smile, instead of shuddering, at it. The witnesses of Hester Prynne's disgrace had not yet passed beyond their simplicity. They were stern enough to look upon her death, had that been the sentence, without a murmur at its severity, but had none of the heartlessness of another social state, which would find only a theme for jest in an exhibition like the present. Even had there been a dis- position 10 turn the matter into ridicule, it must have l»':. n repressed and overpowered by the solenui presence of men no less dignified than the Governor, and several of his counsellors, a judgeTageneral, and the ministers of the town ; all of whom sat or stood in a balcony of the meeting-house, looking down upon the platform. When such personages could constitute a part of the spectacle, without risking the majesty or reverence of rank and office, it was safely to be inferred that the infliction of a legal sentence would have an earnest and effectual meaning. Accordingly, the crowd was sombre and grave. The unhappy culprit sustained herself as best a woman might, under the heavy weight of a thou- sand unrelenting eyes, all fastened upon her, and concentrated at her bosom. It was almost '^Ae Scarlet Letter 8i intolerable to be borne. Of an impulsive and passionate nature/she had fortified herself to en- counter the stings and venomous stabs of public contumely, wreaking itself in every v ' ;ty of insult; but there was a quality so n , more terrible in the solemn mood of the popular mind, that she longed rather to behold all those rigid countenances contorted with scornful merriment, and herself the object. Had a roar of laughter burst from the multitude, - each man, each woman, each little shrill-voiced child, contributing their individual parts,— Hester Prynne might have repaid them all with a bitte" and disdainful smile. But, under the leaden infliction which it was her doom to endure, she felt, at moments, as if she must needs shriek out with the full power of her lungs, and cast herself from the scaffold down upon the ground, or else go mad at once. Yet there were intervals when the whole scene, in which she was the most conspicuous object* seemed to vanish from her eyes, or, at least,* glimmered indistinctly before them, like a mass of imperfectly shaped and spectral images. Her mind, and e pecially her memory, was preter- naturally active, and kept bringing up other scenes than this roughly hewn street of a little town, on the edge of the Western wilderness ; other faces thin were lowering upon her from* beneath the brims of those steeple-crowned hats. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V^ ^^^^V" 1.0 I.I 1.25 l^|2.8 ^ m 1.4 2.5 2.2 1.6 y HiotDgraphic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 873-4503 ) ■>\^ 8a 'g^ eSca rlet Letter Reminiscences the most trifling and immaterial, passages of infancy and school-days, sports, child- ish quarrels, and the little domestic traits of her maiden years, came swarming back upon her, inter- mingled with recollections of whatever was gravest in her subsequent life; one picture precisely as vivid as another; as if all were of similar impor- tance, or all alike a play. Possibly, it was an instinctive device of her spirit, to relieve itself, by the exhibition of these phantasmagoric forms, from the cruel weight and hardness of the reality. Be that as it might, the scaffold of the pillory was a point of view that revealed to Hester Prynne the entire track along whicli she had been treading, since her happy infancy. Standing on that miserable eminence, she saw again her native village, in Old England, and her paternal home ; a decayed house of gray stone, with a poverty- stricken aspect, but retaining a half-obliterated shield of arms over th^ pprtal/ln token of antique gentility. She saw her father's face, with its bald brow, and reverend white beard, that flowed over the old-fashioned Elizabethan ruff; her mother's, too, with the look of heedful and anxious love which it always wore in her remembrance, and which, even since her death, had so often laid the impediment of a gentle remonstrance in her daughter's pathway. She saw her own hcty glowing with girlish beauty, and illuminating all etter immaterial, orts, child- aits of her I her, inter- /as gravest recisely as lar impor- it was an I itself, by )rms, from ility. he pillory o Hester had been Lnding on lier native lal home ; poverty- bliterated >f antique h its bald wed over mother's, ious love mce, and •ften laid ranee in >wn hcty lating all / "^A e Sea rlef Letter 83 the interior of the dusky mirror in which she had been wont to gaze at it. There she beheld another countenance, of a man well stricken in years, a pale, thin, scholar-like visage, with eyes dim and bleared by the lamplight that had served them to pore over many ponderous books. Yet those same bleared optics had a strange, penetrating power, when it was their owner's purpose to read the human soul. This figure of the study and the cloister, as Hester Prynne's womanly fancy failed not to recall, was slightly deformed, with the left shoulder a trifle higher than the right. Next rose before her, in mem- ory's picture-gallery, the intricate and narrow thoroughfares, the tall, gray houses, the huge cathedrals, and the public edifices, ancient in date and quaint in architecture, of a Continental city ; where a new life had awaited her, still in connec- tion with the misshapen scholar ; a new life, but feeding itself on time-worn materials, like a tufi of green moss on a crumbling wall. Lastly, in lieu of these shifting scenes, came back the rude market-place of the Puritan settlement, with all the townspeople assembled and levelling their stern regards at Hester Prynne, — yes, at herself, — who stood on the scafl=bld of the pillory, an infant on her arm, and the letter A, in scariet, fantastically embroidered with gold-thread, upon her bosom ! 84 ^Ae Scarlet L etter Could it be true ? She clutched the child so fiercely to her breast, that it sent forth a cry ; she turned her eyes downward at the scarlet letter, and even touched it with her finger, to assure herself that the infant and the shame were real. Yes! — these were her realities, — all else had vanished ! letter the child so 1 a cry ; she :iarlet letter, r, to assure i were real, ill else had WSe TK^cq^nitwix^ 'ROM this intense consciousness lof being the object of severe and universal observation, the wearer [of the scarlet letter was at length ^relieved, by discerning, on the outskirts of the crowd, a figure which irresistibly took possession of her thoughts. An Indian, in hii- native garb, was standing there ; but the red men were not so infrequent visitors of the Eng- lish settlements, rhat one of them would have attracted any notice from Hester Prynne, at such a time; much less would he have excluded all other objects and ideas from her mind. By the Indian's side, and evidently sustaining a compan- ionship with him, stood a white man, clad in a strange disarray of civilized and savage costume. He was small in stature, with a furrowed visage, which, as yet, could hardly be termed aged. There was a remarkable intelligence in his features, as of a person who had so cultivated his mental part that it could not fail to mould the physical to itself, and become manifest by unmis- takable tokens. Although, by a seemingly care- 86 'Ish e Scarlet Letter less arrangement of his heterogeneous garb, he had endeavored to conceal or abate the peculi- arity, it was sufficiently evident to Hester Prynne, that one of this man's shoulders rose higher than the other. Again, at the first instant of perceiv- ing that thin visage, and the slight deformity of the figure, she pressed her infant to her bosom with so convulsive a force that the poor babe uttered another cry of pain. But the mother did not seem to hear it. At his arrival in the market-place, and some time before she saw him, the stranger had bent his eyes on Hester Prynne. It was carelessly, at first, like a man chiefly accustomed to look inward, and to whom external matters are of little value and import, unless they bear relation to some- thing within his mind. Very soon, however, his look became keen and penetrative. A writhing horror twisted itself across his features, like a snake gliding swiftly over them, and makin^ one little pause, with all its wreathed intervolutions in open sight. His face darkened with some power- ful emotion, which, nevertheless, he so instanta- neously controlled by an efibrt of his will, that, save at a single moment, its expression might have passed for calmness. After a brief space, the convulsion grew almost imperceptible, and finally subsided into the depths of his nature. When he found the eyes of Hester Prynne fastened on I etter s garb, he :he peculi- er Prynne, ligher than of perceiv- formity of ler bosom poor babe ie mother and some had bent relessly, at dIc inward, ittle value to some- wever, his L writhing es, like a akin^ one jlutions in ne power- • instanta- wiil, that, light have space, the md finally i. When Lstened on '^A e Scarlet Letter 8? his own, and saw that she appeared to recognize him, he slowly and calmly raised his finger, made a gesture with it in the air, and laid it on his lips. Then, touching the shoulder of a townsman who stood next to him, he addressed him, in a formal and courteous manner. " I pray you, good Sir," said he, " who is this woman? — and wherefore is she here set up to public shame ^ " " You must needs be a stranger in this region, friend," answered the townsman, looking curiously at the questioner and his savage companion. " else you would surely have heard of Mistress ..Heater.. Prynne, and her evil doings. She hath raised a great scandal, I promise you, in godly Master Dimmesdale's church." " You say truly," replied the other. " I am a stranger, and have been a wanderer, sorely against my will. I have met with grievous mis- haps by sea and land, and have been long held in bonds among the heathen-folk, to the south- ward ; and am now brought hither by this In- dian, to be redeemed out of my captivity. Will it please you, therefore, to tell me of Hester Prynne's, — have I her name rightly ? — of this woman's offences, and what has brought her to yonder scaffold ? " " Truly, friend ; and methinks it must gladden your heart, after your troubles and sojourn in the 88 ISAe Scarlet Letter wilderness," said the townsman, " to find your- self, at length, in a land where iniquity is searched out, and punished in the sight of rulers and people; as here in our godly New England. Yonder woman. Sir, you must knew, was the wife of a certain learned man, English by birth, but who had long dwelt in Amsterdam, whence, some good time agone, he was minded to cross over and cast in his lot with us of the Massachusetts. To this purpose, he sent his wife before him, remaining himself to look after some necessary affairs. Marry, good Sir, in some two years, or less, that the woman has been a dweller here in Boston, no tidings haxe come of this learned gentleman. Master Prynne ; and his young wife, look you, being left to her own misguidance — " " Ah ! — aha ! — I conceive you," said the stranger, with a bitter smile. " So learned a man as you speak of should have learned this too in his books. And who, by your favor. Sir, may be the father of yonder babe — it is some three or four months old, I should judge — which Mistress Prynne is holding in her arms ? " " Of a truth, friend, that matter remaineth a riddle ; and the Daniel who shall expound it is yet a-wanting," answered the townsman. " Madam Hester absolutely refuseth to speak, and the mag- istrates have laid their heads together in vain. Peradventure the guilty one stands looking on at u.' 4 •si I lHWUAlWtflW/ ^he Scarlet Letter ^ ^>. ' / V this sad spectacle, unknown of man, and forget- ting that God sees him." " The learned man," observed the stranger, with another smile, " should come himself, to look into the mystery." " It behooves him well, if he be still in life," responded the townsman. « Now, good Sir, our Massachusetts magistracy, bethinking them- selves that this woman is youthful and fair, and ^pubtless was strongly tempted to her fall, ,^nd that, moreover, as is most likely, her hus- band may be at the bottom of the sea, they have not been bold to put in force the extremity of our righteous law against her. The penalty thereof is death. But in their great mercy and tenderness of heart, they have doomed Mistress Prynne to stand only a space of three hours on the platform of the pillory, and then and there- after, for the remainder of her natural life, o wear a mark of shame upon her bosom." "A wise sentence!" remarked the stranger, gravely bowing his head. " Thus she will be a livmg sermon against sin, until the ignominious letter be engraved upon her tombstone. It irks me, nevertheless, that the. partner .pf her iniquity should not, at least, stand on the scaffold by her ~ si«ie. But he will be known r— he will be known ! — he wiirbe known ! " ' "^ He bowed courteously to the communicative 90 'ISA eSca rlef Letter townsman, and, whispering a few words to his Indian attendant, they both made their way- through the crowd. While this passed, Hester Prynne had been standing on her pedestal, still with a fixed gaze towards the stranger; so fixed a gaze, that, at moments of intense absorption, all other objects in the visible world seemed to vanish, leaving only him and her. Such an interview, » perhaps, would have been more terrible than even to meet him as she now did, with the hot, midday sun burning down upon her face, and lighting up its shame ; with the scarlet token of infamy on her breast ; with the sin-born infant in her arms ; with a whole people, drawn forth as to a festival, staring at the features that should have been seen only in the quiet gleam of the fireside, in the happy shadow of a home, or beneath a matronly veil, at church. Dreadful as it was, she was con- scious of a shelter in the presence of these thou- sand witnesses. It was better to stand thus, with so many betwixt him and her, than to greet him, face to face, they two alone. She fled for refiige, as it were, to the public exposure, and dreaded the moment when its protection should be with- drawn from her. Involved in these thoughts, she scarcely heard a voice behind her, until it had repeated her name more than once, in a loud and solemn tone, audible to the whole multitude. » a B W!t ! i,uaaii^Ji;y!)^.-v'^^. }. ■^-V-&-i^'--a-'^.>.t..v,-»;.^wiiigJpqffnsa ^Ae Scarlet Letter 91 "Hearken unto me, Hester Prynne ! " said the voice. It has already been noticed, that directly over the platform on which Hester Prynne stood was a kind of balcony, or open gallery, appended to the meeting-house. It was the place whence proclamations were wont to be made, amidst an assemblage of the magistracy, with all the cere- monial that attended such public observances in those days. Here,^wttTress the scene ;yhich we are describing, sat Governor Bellingham hirasdf, with four sergeants about his chair, bearing hal- berds, as a guard of honor. He wore a dark feather in his hat, a border of embroidery on his cloak, and a black velvet tunic beneath ; a gentle- man advanced in years, with a hard experience written in his wrinkles. He was not ill fitted to be the head'and representative of a community, which owed its origin and progress, and its pres- ent state of development, not to the impulses of youth, but to the c..rn and tempu-ed^nergies of manhood, and .the sombre sagacity of age; ; accomplishing so much, precisely because it imag-" ined and hoped so little. The other eminent characters, by whom the ^hief ruler wa^-«ttP-^ rounded, were distinguished by a dignity of mien, ) belonging to a period when the forms of authority^^ were felt to possess the sacredness of Divine ^"i?^.'^®"^' They were, doubtless, good menf 9a '^A eSca rlef Letter § just, and sage. But, out of the whole human family, it would not have been easy to select the same number of wise and virtuous persons, who should be less capable of sitting in judgment on an erring woman's heart, and disentangling its mesh of good and evil, than the sages of rigid aspect towards whom Hester Prynne now turned her face. She seemed conscious, indeed, that whatever sympathy she might expect lay in the larger and waimer heart of the multitude; for, as she lifted her eyes towards the balcony,, the unhappy woman grew pale and trembled. The voice which had called her attention was that of the reverend and famous John Wilson, the eldest clergyman of Bostonja_ great scholar, like most of his contemporaries in the profession, and withal a man of kind and genial spirit. This last attribute, however, had been le'.s carefully developed than his intellectual gifts, and was, in truth, rather a matter of shame than self-con- gratulation with him. There he stood, with a border of grizzled locks beneath his skull-cap ; while his gray eyes, accustomed to the shaded light of his study, were winking, like those of Hester's infant, in thd? unadulterated sunshine. He looked like the darkly engraved portraits which we see prefixed to old volumes of ser- mons ; and had no more right than one of those portraits would have, to step forth, as he now ^Ae Scarlet Letter 93 did, and meddle with a question of human guilt, passion, and anguish. " " Hester Prynne," said the clergyman, " I have striven with my young brother here, under whose preaching of the word you have been privileged to sit," — here Mr. Wilson laid his hand on the shoulder of a pale young man beside him, " I have sought, I say, to persuade this godly youth, that he should deal with you, here in the face of Heaven, and before these wise and upright rulers, and in hearing of all the people, as touching the vileness and blackness of your sin. Knowing your natural temper better than I, he could the better judge what arguments to use, whether of tenderness or terror, such as might prevail over your hardness and obstinacy; insomuch that you should no longer hide the name uf him who tempted you to this grievous fall. But he op- poses to me (with a young man's over-softness, albeit wise beyond his years), that it were wrong- ing the very nature of woman to force her to lay open her heart's secrets in such broad daylight, and in presence of so great a multitude. Truly, as I sought to convince him, the shame lay in the commission of the sin, and not in the show- ing of it forth. What say you to it, once again. Brother Dimmesdale .? Must it be thou, or I, that shall deal with this poor sinner's soul ? " There was a murmur among the dignified and X'' \ 94 *SA eSca rief Letter *^^ ,— * reverend occupants of the balcony ; and Gov- ernor Bellingham gave expression to its purport, speaking in an authoritative voice, although tem- pered with respect towards the youthful clergy- man whom he addressed. " Good Master Dimmesdale," said he, " the responsibility of this woman's soul lies greatly with you. it behooves you, therefore, to exhort her to repentance, and to confession, as a proof and consequence thereof." The directness of this appeal drew the eyes of the whole crowd upon the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale ; a young clergyman, who had come from one of the great English universities, bring- ing all the learning of the age into our wil^ forest-land. His eloquence and religious fervor had already given the earnest of high eminence in his profession. He was a person of very striking aspect, with a white, lofty, and impending brow, large, brown, melancholy eyes, and a mouth which, unless when he forcibly compressed it, was apt to be tremulous, expressing both nervous sensibility and a vast power of self-restraint. Notwithstanding his high native gifts and schol- ar-like attainments, there was an air about this young minister, — an apprehensive, a startled, a half-frightened look, — as of a being who felt himself quite astray and at a loss in the pathway of human existence, and could only be at ease in I id Gov- purport, ugh tem- I clergy- le, " the s greatly o exhort a proof the eyes :nd Mr. ad come s, bring- 3ur wiJ4 IS fervor nence in striking ig brow, mouth £ssed it, nervous •estraint. d schol- out this artled, a vho felt pathway t ease in "^he Scarlet Letter 95 some seclusion of his own. Therefore, so far as his duties would permit, he trod in the shadowy by-paths, and thus kept himself simple and child- like ; coming forth, when occasion was, with a freshness, and fragrance, and dewy purity of thought, which, as many people said, affected ^ them like the speech of an angel. ) Such was the young man whom the Reverend Mr. Wilson and the Gove- ^r had introduced so openly to the public notice, bidding him speak, in the hearing of all men, to that mystery of a woman's soul, so sacred even in its pollution. The trying nature of his position drove the blood from his cheek, and made his lips tremulous. " Speak to the woman, my brother," said Mr. Wilson. "It is of moment to her soul, and therefore, as the worshipful Governor says, momentous to thine own, in whose charge hers is. Exhort her to confess the truth ! " The Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale bent his head, in silent prayer, as it seemed, and then came forward. " Hester Prynne," said he, leaning over the balcony and looking down steadfastly into her eyes, " thou hearest what this good man says, and seest the accountability under which I labor. If thou feelest it to be for thy soul's peace, and that thy earthly punishment will thereby be made more effectual to salvation, I charge thee to speak out \ ' -'*i lii 1!'; 96 "TSAe Scarlet L etter .the name of thy fellow-sinner and fellow-sufferer ! /'Be not silent from any mistaken pity and tender- ness for him ; for, believe me, Hester , though he - ' werejQ step. dowD-froma hi^h place, and stand there beside thee, on thy pedestal of shame, yet better were it so, than to hide a guilty heart through life. What can thy silence do for him, except it tempt him — yea, compel him, as it were — to add hypocrisy to sin ? Heaven hath granted thee an open ignominy, that thereby thou mayest work out an open triumph over the evil within thee, and the sorrow without. Take heed how thou deniest to him —who, peVchance, hath not the courage to grasp it for himself— the bit- ter, but wholesome, cup that is now presented to thy lips ! " The young pastor's voice was tremulously sweet, rich, deep, and broken. The feeling that it so evidently manifested, rather than the direct purport of the words, caused it to vibrate within all hearts, and brought the listeners into one accord of sympathy. Even the poor baby, at Hester's bosom, was affected by the same influ- ence ; for it directed its hitherto vacant gaze towards Mr. Dimmesdale, and held up its little arms, with a half-please'^, half-plaintive murmur. So powerful seemed the minister's appeal, that the people could not believe but that Hester Prynne would speak out the guilty name ; or else .etfer >w-sufFerer ! and tender- t though he -- , and stand shame, yet uilty heart lo for him, him, as it eaven hath ereby thou '•er the evil rake heed lance, hath — the bit- presented emulously :eiing that the direct ate within into one baby, at ime influ- cant gaze ) its little murmur, peal, that Lt Hester e ; or else "^Ae Scarlet Letter 97 il a that the guilty one himself, in whatever high or lowly place he stood, would be drawn forth by an inward and inevitable necessity, and compelled to ascend the scaffold. Hester shook her head. " Woman, transgress not beyond the limits of Heaven's mercy ! " cried the Reverend Mr. Wilson, more harshly than before. " That little babe hath been gifted with a voice, to second and confirm the counsel which thou hast heard. Speak out the name ! That, and thy repentance,' may avail to take the scarlet letter off thy breast." "Never!" replied Hester Prynne, looking not at Mr. Wilson, but into the deep and troubled eyes of the younger clergyman. "It is too deeply branded. Ye cannot take it off. And would that I might endure his agony, as well as mine!" " Speak, woman ! " said another voice, coldly_.„ and sternly, proceeding from the crowd about the scaffold. " Speak ; and give your child a father ! " " I will not speak ! " answered Hester, turning pale as death, but responding to this voice, which she too surely recognized. « And my child must seek a heavenly Father; she shall never know an earthly one! " " She will not speak ! " murmured Mr. Dim- mesdale, who, leaning over the balcony, with \ 98 '^Ae Scarlet Letter w his hand upon his heart, had awaited the result of his appeal. He now drew back, with a long respiration. " Wondrous strength and genero- .•|/ sity of a woman's heart ! She will not speak ! " Discerning the impracticable state of the poor culprit's mind, the elder clergyman, who had ^ carefully prepared himself for the occasion, ad- ., dressed to the multitude a discourse on sin, in all its branches, but with continual reference to the ignominious letter. So forcibly did he dwell upon this symbol, for the hour or more during which his periods were rolling over the people's heads, that it assumed new terrors in their imagi- nation, and seemed to derive its scariet hue from the flames of the infernal pit. Hester Prynne, meanwhile, kept her place upon the pedeftal of shame, with glazed eyes, and an air of weary indifference. She had borne, that morning, all that nature could endure; and as her tempera- ment was not of the order that escapes from too intense suffering by a swoon, her spirit could only shelter itself beneath a stony crust of insensibility, while the faculties of animal life remained entire. In this state, the voice of the preacher thundered remorselessly, but unavailingly, upon her ears. The infant, during the latter portion of her or- deal, pierced the air with its wailings and screams ; >he strove to hush it, mechanically, but seemed scarcely to sympathize with its trouble. Wkh i? :fii .etfer the result with a long nd genero- speak ! " )f the poor , who had casion, ad- on sin, in eference to d he dwell ore during e people's heir imagi- t hue from ;r Prynne, )edeFtal of of weary )rmng, all r tempera- 5 from too :ould only sensibility, led entire, thundered her ears, af her or- 1 screams ; It seemed le:" Wkh "g/ie Scarlet Letter 99 the same hard demeanor, she was led back to prison, and vanished from the public gaze within its iron-clamped portal. It was whispered, by those who peered after her, that the scarlet letter threw a lurid gleam along the dark passage-way of the interior. ■Mi ^Be InievHew FTER her return to the prison, .Hester Prynne was found to be in a state of nervous excitement that /demanded constant watchfulness, ^ J lest she should perpetrate violence on herself, or do some half-frenzied mischief to the poor babe. As night approached, it proving impossible to quell her insubordination by rebuke or threats of punishment, Master Brackett, the jailer, thought fit to introduce a physician. He described him as a man of skill in all Christian modes of physical science, and likewise familiar with whatever the savage people could teach, in respect to medicinal herbs and roots that grew in the forest. To say the truth, there was much need of professional assistance, not merely for Hester herself, but still more urgently for the child ; who, drawing its sustenance from the ma- ternal bosom, seemed to have drank in with it all the turmoil, the anguish and despair, which pervaded the mother's system. It now writhed in convulsions of pain, and was a forcible type, in its little frame, of the moral agony which Hester Prynne had borne throughout the day. ^''.V;l^f>i9.UjL»«. etfer eaving of 'aves of a 3 received face ; not oubt and night be. id. — * have ed for it, for any- bid thee quaff it. the same so little, nt to be leme of ly object je medi- -so that pon thy ng fore- brthwith as if it oluntary md bear of men im thou "^Ae Scarlet Letter 105 didst call thy husband, — in the eyes of yonder child ! And, that thou mayest live, take off this draught." Without further expostulation or delay, Hester Prynne drained the cup, and, at the motion of the man of skill, seated herself on the bed where the child was sleeping; while he drew the only chair which the room afforded, and took his own seat beside her. She could not but tremble at these preparations; for she felt that — having now done all that humanity, or principle, or, if so It were, a refined cruelty, impelled him to do, for the relief of physical suffering — he was next to treat with her as the man whom she had most deeply and irreparably injured. Hester," said he, " I ask not wherefore, nor how, thou hast fallen into the pit, or say, rather, thou hast ascended to the pedestal of infamy, on which I found thee. The reason is not far to seek. It was my folly, and thy weakness. I, — a man of thought, — the book-worm of great libraries, — a man already in decay, having given niy best years to feed the hungry dream of knowl- edge,— what had I to do with youth and beauty like thine own ! Misshapen from my birth-hour, how could I delude myself with the idea that in- tellectual gifts might veil physical deformity in a young girl's fantasy! Men call me wise. If sages were ever wise in their own behoof, I might y i io« ISA e Sea rlef Letter >: .T i'l! have foreseen all this. I might have known that, as I came out of the vast and dismal forest, and entered this settlement of Christian men, the very first object to meet my eyes would be thyself, Hester Prynne, standing up, a statue of ignominy, before the people. Nay, from the moment when we came down the old church steps together, a married pair, I might have beheld the bale-fire of that scarlet letter blazing at the end of our path!" " Thou knowest," said Hester, — for, de- pressed as she was, she could not endure this last quiet stab at the token of her shame, — "thou knowest that I was frank with thee. I felt no love, nor feigned any." "True," replied he. "It was my folly! I have said it. But, up to that epoch of my life, I had lived in vain. The world had been so cheer- less ! My heart was a habitation large enough for many guests, but lonely and chill, and with- out a household fire. I longed to kindle one ! It seemed not so wild a dream, — c! .is I was, and sombre as I was, and misshap*^ , x v >■?, — that the simple bliss, which is scattered far and wide, for all mankind to gather up, might yet be mine. And so, Hester, I drew thee into my ' eart, into its innermost chamber, and sought to "^.-t^-.tl thee by the warmth which thy presence ^nade ther^; : " { » eiter nown that, forest, and 1, the very )e thyself, ignominy, nent when ogether, a •ale-fire of d of our - for, de- e this last — " thou I felt no folly! I my life, I I so cheer- [e enough and with- idle one ! -is T was, Ts^e Scarlet Letter 107 i V, i far and ht yet be into my sought to presence / \ \ PV "I have greatly wronged thee," murmured Hester. *' We have wronged each other," answered he. " Mine was the first wrong, when I betrayed thy budding youth into a false and unnatural relation with my decay. Therefore, as a man who has not thought ind philosophized in vain, I seek no vengeance, plot no evil against thee. Between -,\thee and me, the scale hangs fairly balanced. But, Hester, the man lives who has wronged us both! Who is he?" "Ask me not!" replied Hester Prynne, look- ing firmly into his face. " That thou shalt never know ! " "Never, sayest thou?" rejoined he, with a smile of dark and self-relying intelligence. " Never know him ! Believe me, Hester, there are few things, —• whether in the outward world, or, to a certain depth, in the invisible sphere of thought, —few things hidden from the man who devotes himself earnestly and unreservedly to the solution of a mystery. Thou mayest cover up thy secret from tht prying multitude. Thou mayest conceal it, too, from the ministers and magistrates, even as thou didst this day, when they sought to wrench the name out of thy heart, and give thee a partner on thy pedestal. But, as for me, I come to the inquest with other senses than they possess. I shall seek this f-nn as I io8 ^Ae Scarlet Letter V have sought truth in books ; as I have sought gold in alchemy. There is a sympathy that will make me conscious of him. I shall see him tremble. I shall feel myself shudder, suddenly and unawares. Sooner or later, he must needs be mine!" The eyes of the wrinkled scnolar glowed so intensely upon her, that Hester Prynne clasped her hands over her heart, dreading lest he should read the secret there at once. " Thou wilt not reveal his name ? Not the less he is mine," resumed he, with a look of con- fidence, as if destiny were at one with him. "He bears no letter of infamy wrought into his gar- ment, as thou dost ; but I shall read it on his heart. Yet fear not for him ! Think not that I shall interfere with^tieaven's own method of ret- ribution, or, to my own loss, betray him to the gripe of human law. Neither do thou imagine that I shall contrive aught against his life ; no, nor against his fame, if, as I judge, he be a man of fair repute. Let him live! Let him hide himself in outward honor, if he may ! Not the less he shall be mine ! " " Thy acts are like mercy," said Hester, bewildered and appalled. " But thy words in- . terpret thee as a terror ! " " One thing, thou that wast my wife, I would enjoin upon thee," continued the scholar. °g/ic Scarlet Letter log ^Thou hast kept the secret of thy paramour. Keep, likewise, mine ! There are none in this land that know me. Breathe not, to any human soul, that thou didst ever call me husband I Here, on this wild outskirt of the earth, I shall pitch my tent; for, elsewhere a wanderer, and isolated from human interests, I find here a woman, a man, a child, amongst whom and my- self there exist the closest ligaments. No matter whether of love or hate; no matter whether of right or wrong ! Thou and thine, Hester Prynne, belong to me. My home is where thou art, and where he is. But betray me not ! " "Wherefore dost thou desire it?" inquired Hester, shrinking, she hardly knew why, from this secret bond. « Why not announce thyself openly, and cast me ofFat once? " K- « It may be," he replied, « because ^will' iiot encounter the dishonor that besmirches the hus- band of a faithless woman. It may be for other reasons. Enough, it is my purpose to live and die unknown. Let, therefore, thy husband be to the world as one already dead, and of whom no tidings shall ever come. Recognize me not by word, by sign, by look ! Breathe not the secret, above all, to the man thou wottest of. Shouldst thou fail me in this, beware! His fame, his position, his life, will be in my hands. Beware ! " no ^Ae Scarlet Letter " I will keep thy secret, as 1 have his," said Hester. " Swear it!" rejoined he. And she took the oath. ^ " And now, Mistress Prynne," said old Roger Chillingworth, as he was hereafter to be named, " I leave thee alone ; alone with thy infant, and the scarlet letter! How is it, Hester? Doth thy sentence bind thee to wear the token in thv sleep ? Art thou not afraid of nightmares and hideous dreams ?" "Why dost thou smile so at me?" inquired Hester, troubled at the expression of his eyes. "Art thou like the Black Man that haunts the forest round about us? Hast thou enticed me into a bond that will prove the ruin of mv soul?" "Not thy soul," he answered, with another smile. " No, not thine ! " letter ^e his," said i old Roger ' be named, ' infant, and ter ? Doth >ken in thy tmares and ' " inquired tf his eyes, haunts the enticed me uin of my th another &f ester at BerciNeedle ESTER PRYNNE'S term of confinement was now at an end. Her prison-door was thrown open, and she came forth into the sun- shine, which, falling on all alike seemed, to her sick and morbid heart, as if meant for no other purpose than to reveal the scarlet letter on her breast. Perhaps there was a more real torture in her first unattended footsteps from the threshold of the prison, than even in the pro- cession and spectacle that have been described, where she was made the common infamy, at which all mankind was summoned to point its finger. Then, she was supported by an unnat- ural tension of the nerves, and by all the combat- ive energy of her character, which enabled her to convert the scene into a kind of lurid triumph. It was, moreover, a separate and insulated event, to occur but once in her lifetime, and to meet which, therefore, reckless of economy, she might call up the vital strength that would have sufficed for many quiet years. The very law that con- demned her— a giant of stern features, but with XM ^/ie Scarlet Letter vigor to support, as well as to annihilate, in his iron arm — had held her up, through the terrible ordeal of her ignominy. But now, with this unat- tended walk from her prison- door, began the daily custom; and she must either sustain and carry it forward by the ordinary resources of her nature, or sink beneath it. She could no longer borrow from the future to help her through the present grief. To-morrow would bring its own trial with It; so would the next day, and so would the next ; each its own trial, and yet the very same that was now so unutterably grievous to be borne. The days of the far-off future would toil onward, still with the same burden for her to take up, and bear along with her, but never to fiing down ; for the accumulating days, and added years, would ,pile up their misery upon the heap of shame. //Throughout them all, giving up her individu- ality, she would become the general symbol at which the preacher and moralist might point, and in which they might vivify and embody their images of woman's frailty and sinful passion. Thus the young and pure would be taught to look at her, with the scarlet letter flaming on her breast,— at her, the child of honorable parents, — at her, the mother of a babe, that would hereafter be a woman, — at her, who had once been innocent, — as the figure, the body, the re- alty of sin.^ And over her grave, the infamy effer ate, in his he terrible this unat- I the daily id carry it er nature, ir borrow e present trial with ould the 'ery same be borne. I onward, e up, and own; for s, would f shame, individu- ^mbol at oint, and dy their passion, aught to g on her parents, t would ad once , the re- infamy "^/ie Scarlet Letter 113 that she must carry thither would be her only monument. It may seem marvellous, that, with the world before her, — kept by no restrictive clause of her condemnation within the limits of the Puritan settlement, so remote and so obscure, free to return to her birthplace, or to any other European land, and there hide her character and identity under a new exterior, as completely as if emerg- ing into another state of being, — and having also the passes of the dark, inscrutable forest open to her, where the wildness of her nature might assimilate itself with a people whose customs and life were alien from the law that had condemned her, — it may seem marvellous, that this woman should still call that place her home, where, and where only, she must needs be the type of shame. But there h u fatality, a feeling so irresistible and inevitable that it has the force of doom, which almost invariably compels human beings to linger around and haunt, ghost-like, the spot where some great and marked event has given the color to their lifetime; and still the more irresistibly, the darker the tinge that saddens it. Her sin, her ignominy, were the roots which she had struck into the soil. It was as if a new birth, with stronger assimilations than the first, had converted the forest-land, still so uncongenial to every other pilgrim and wanderer, into Hester 8 "4 ^iftc Scarlet Letter Prynne's wild and dreary, but life-long home. All other scenes of earth — even that village of rural England, where happy infancy and stainless maidenhood seemed yet to be in her mother's keeping, like garments put off long ago — were foreign to her, in comparison. The chain that bound her here was of iron links, and galling to her inmost soul, but could never be broken. It might be, too, — doubtless it was so, although she hid the secret from herself, and grew pale whenever it struggled out of her heart, like a serpent from its hole, — it might be that another feeling kept her within the scene and pathway that had been so fatal. There dwelt, there trode the feet of one with whom she deemed herself connected in a union, that, unrecognized on earth, would bring them to- gether before the bar of final judgment, and make that their marriage-altar, for a joint futur- ity of endless retribution. Over and over again, the tempter of souls had thrust this idea upon Hester's contemplation, and laughed at the pas- sionate and desperate joy with which she seized, and then strove to cast it from her. She barely looked the idea in the face, and hastened to bar it in its dungeon. What she compelled herself to believe — what, finally, she reasoned upon, as her motive for continuing a resident of New England — was half a truth, and half a etter •ng home, village of d stainless mother's TO — were :hain that galling to broken. was so, rself, and her heart, t be that cene and re dwelt, horn she on, that, hem to- ent, and nt futur- '^er again, lea upon the pas- e seized, le barely :ened to impelled reasoned resident d half a "^Ae Scarlet Letter "5 self-delusion. Here, she said to herself, had been the scene of her guilt, and here should be the scene of her earthly punishment; and so, perchancci' the torture of her daily shame would at length purge her soul, and work out another purity than that which she had lost ; more saint- like, because the result of martydom. ^ Hester Prynne, therefore, did not flee. On the outskirts of the town, within the verge of the peninsula, but not in close vicinity to any other habitation, there was a small thatched cottage. It had been built by an earlier settler, and aban- doned, because the soil about it was too sterile for cultivation, while its comparative remoteness put it out of the sphere of that social activity which already marked the habits of the emi- grants. It stood on the shore, looking across a basin of the sea at the forest-covered hills, towards the west. A clump of scrubby trees' such as alone grew on the peninsula, did not so much conceal the cottage from view, as seem to denote that here was some object which would fain have been, or at least ought to be, con- cealed. In this little, lonesome dwelling, with some slender means that she possessed, and by the license of the magistrates, who still kept an mquisitorial watch over her, Hester established herself, with her infant child. A mystic shadow of suspicion immediately attached itself to the \ - "6 "^Ae Scarlet Letter •^^:l 1 spot. Children, too young to comprehend where- fore this woman should be shut out from the sphere of human charities, would creep nigh enough to behold her plying her needle at the cottage window, or standing in the doorway, or laboring in her little garden, or coming forth along the pathway that led townward ; and, dis- cerning the scarlet letter on her breast, would scamper off with a strange, contagious fear. Lonely as was Hester's situation, and without a friend on earth who dared to show himself, she, however, incurred no risk of want. She pos- sessed an art that sufficed, even in a land that af- forded comparatively little scope for its exercise, to supply food for her thriving infant and her- self. It was the art — then, as now, almost the only one within a woman's grasp — ■ ' *" needle- work. She bore on her breast, in the curiously embroidered letter, a specimen of her delicate and imaginative skill, of which the dames of a court might gladly have availed themselves, to add the richer and more spiritual adornment of human ingenuity to their fabrics of silk and gold. Here, indeed, in the sable simplicity that gener- ally characterized the Puritanic modes of dress, there might be an infrequent call for the finer productions of her handiwork. Yet the taste of the age, demanding whatever was elaborate in compositions of this kind, did not fail to Qtter :nd where- from the reep nigh lie at the )onvay, or ling forth and, dis- ist, would i fear. d without V himself. She pos- id that af- 5 exercise, and her- Imost the ** .leedie- curiously r delicate imes of a selves, to nment of and gold. lat gener- of dress, the finer the taste elaborate »t fail to "S/ic Scarlet Letter "7 extend its influence over our stern progenitors, who had cast behind them so many fashions which it might seem harder to dispense with. Public ceremonies, such as ordinations, the in- stallation of magistrates, and all that could give majesty to the forms in which a new government manifested itself to the people, were, as a matter of policy, marked by a stately and well-conducted ceremonial, and a sombre, but yet a studied mag- nificence. Deep rufl="s, painfully wrought bands, and gorgeously embroidered gloves, were all deemed necessary to the official state of men assuming the reins of power; and were readily allowed to individuals dignified by rank or wealth, even while sumptuary laws forbade these and similar extravagances to the plebeian order. In the array of funerals, too, — whether for the apparel of the dead body or to typify, by mani- fold emblematic devices of sable cloth and snowy lawn, the sorrow of the survivors, — there was a frequent and characteristic demand for such labor as Hester Prynne could supply. Baby-linen for babies then wore robes of state — aflforded still another possibility of toil and emolument. By degrees, nor very slowly, her handiwork became what would now be termed the fashion. Whether from commiseration for a woman of so miserable a destiny ; or from the morbid curiosity 'Hat gives a fictitious value even to common or "8 IsAe Scarlet Letter I J worthless things ; or by whatever other intangible circumstance was then, as now, sufficient to be- stow, on some pe-sons, what others might seek in vain ; or because Hester really filled a gap which must otherwise have remained vacant; it is certain that she had ready and fairly re?jUited employment for as many hours as she siw iit to occupy with her needle. Vanity, it may be, chose to mortify itself, by putting on, for ceremonials of pomp and state, the garments thaf had been wrought by her sinful hands. Her needlework was seen on the ruff of the Governor ; military men wore it on their scarfs, anvl the minister on his band ; it decked the baby's little cap ; it was shut up, to be mildewed and moulder away, in the coffins of the dead. But it is not recorded that, in a single instance, her skill was called in aid to embroider the white veil which was to cover the pure blushes of a bride. The excep- tion indicated the ever-relentless rigor with which society frowned upon her sin. Hester sought not to acquire anything beyond a subsistence, of the plainest and most ascetic description, for herself, and a simple abundance for her child. Her own dress was of the coarsest materials and the most sombre hue ; with only that one ornament, — the scarlet letter, — which it was her doom to wear. The child's attire, on the other hand, was distinguished by a fanciful. ztter ntangible nt to he- ight seek ;d a gap vacant ; it requited s^w iit to he, chose remonials bad been edlework military nister on p ; it was away, in recorded as called h was to le excep- ith which heyond It ascetic )undance coarsest ith only — which ittire, on fanciful, "^fie Scarlet Let ter ng or, we might rather say, a fantastic ingenuity, which served, indeed, to heighten the airy charm that early began to develop itself in the little girl, but which appeared to have also a deeper meaning. We may speak ft ther of it hereafter Except for that small expend.cure in the decora- tion of her infant, Hester bestowed all her super- fluous means in charity, on wretches less miserable than herself, and who not unfrequently insulted ' the hand that fed them. Much of the time, which she might readily have applied to the better efl^brts of her art, she employed in making coarse garments for the poor. It is probable that there was an idea of penance in this mode of occupa- tion, and that she ofl=ered up a real sacrifice of enjoyment, in devoting so many hours to such rude handiwork. She had in her nature a rich, voluptuous. Oriental characteristic, — a taste for the gorgeously beautiful, which, save in the ex- quisite productions of her needle, found nothing else, in all the possibilities of her life, to exercise Itself upon. Women derive a pleasure, incom- prehensible to the other sex, from the delicate toil of the needle. To Hester Prynne it might have been a mode of expressing, and therefore soothing, the passion of her life. //Like all other joys, she rejected it as sin, This morbid med- dling of conscience with an immaterial matter betokened, it is to be feared, no genuine and \ lao 'IShe Scarlet Letter steadfast penitence, but something doubtful, some- thing that might be deeply wrong, beneath. In this manner, Hester Prynne came to have a part to perform in the world. With her native energy of character, and rare capacity, it could not entirely cast her off, although it had set a mark upon her, more intolerable to a woman's heart than that which branded the brow of Cain. In all her intercourse with society, however .., there was nothing that made her feel as if she belonged to it. Every gesture, every word, and even the silence of those with whom she came in contact, implied, and often expressed, that she was banished, and as much alone as if she in- habited another sphere, or communicated with the common nature by other organs and senses than the rest of human kind. She stood apart from moral interests, yet close beside them, like a ghost that revisits the familiar fireside, and can no longer make itself seen or felt; no more smile with the household joy, nor mourn with the kindred sorrow ; or, should it succeed in mani- festing its forbidden sympathy, awakening only terror and horrible repugnance. These emotions, in fact, and its bitterest scorn besides, seemed to be the sole portion that she retained in the universal heart. It was not an age of delicacy ; and her position, although she understood it well, and was in little danger of forgetting it, was "^Ae Scarlet Letter 121 often brought before her vivid self-perception, Ike a new anguish, by the rudest touch upon the tenderest spot. The poor, as we have al- ready said, whom she sought out to be the ob- jects of her bounty, often reviled the hand that was stretched forth to succor them. Dames of elevated rank, likewise, whose doors she entered in the way of her occupation, were accustomed to distil drops of bitterness into her heart ; some- times through that alchemy of quiet malice, by which women can concoct a subtle poison from ordinary trifles ; and sometimes, also, by a coarser expression, that fell upon the sufferer's defence- less breast like a rough blow upon an ulcerated wound. Hester had schooled herself long and well ; she never responded to these attacks, save by a flush of crimson that rose irrepressibly over her pale cheek, and again subsided into the depths of her bosom. She was patient — a martyr, indeed, - but she forbore to pray tor her enemies; lest, in spite of her forgiving aspirations, tlie words of the blessing should stubbornly twist themselves into a curse Continually, and in a thousand other ways, did she feel the innumerable throbs of anguish that Had been so cunningly contrived for her by the undying, the ever-active sentence of the Puritan tribunal. // Clergymen paused in the street to address words of exhortation, that brought a ) J|^ laa "TSAe Scarlet Letter crowd, with its mingled grin and frown, around the poor, sinful woman. If she entered a church, trusting to share the Sabbath smile of the Uni- versal Father, it was often her mishap to find herself the text of the discourse. She grew to have a dread of children ; for they had imbibed from their parents a vague idea of something horrible in this dreary woman, gliding silently through the town, with never any companion but one only child. Therefore, first allowing her to pass, they pursued her at a distance with shrill cries, and the utterance of a word that had no distinct purport to their own minds, but was none the less terrible to her, as proceeding from lips that babbled it unconsciously. It seemed to argue so wide a diffusion of her shame, that all nature knew of it ; it could have caused her no deeper pang, had the leaves of the trees whispered the dark story among themselves, — had the sum- mer breeze murmured about it, — had the wintry blast shrieked it aloud! Another peculiar tor- ture was felt in the gaze of a new eye. When strangers looked curiously at the scariet letter, and none ever failed to do so, — they branded it afresh into Hester's soul ; so that, oftenrimes, she could scarcely refrain, yet always did refrain, from covering the symbol with her hand. But then, again, an accustomed eye had likewise its own anguish to inflict. Its cool stare of famil- "tSAe Scarlet Letter 123 ■arity was intolerable. From first to last :„ short, Hester Pry„„e had always th! d^ gony ■„ feehng a human eye upon the token the spot never grew callous ; it seemed, on he contr^y, to grow more sensitive with daily But sometimes, once in many days, or per- chance ,n many months, she felt an eye -a seemed 7^-"?°" "'^ ignominious brand, that seemed to g,ve a momentary relief, as if half back h T\l'' '^"'^- ""^^ "«' -«-t. back .t all rushed agam, with still a deeper throb a° r" H°H h"'" ''"^f '""-^l.'h^ had sinned ati.w. Had Hester smned alone ? h^H^'h '"T^'"^'i°" "-^ somewhat affected, and, fibre ' ''f?" °^- -fter moral and intell ctua fibre, would have been still more so, by .he strange and solitary anguish of her life. Walk- jng to and fro with those lonely footsteps, in the I. de world w,th which she was outwardly con- nected, .t now and then appeared to Hester,- f altogether fancy, it was nevertheless too potent sea letT: 'h": ''?" °' ''''"^- ">»> 'h« the ) scarlet letter had endowed her with a new sense J She shuddered to believe, yet could not help ^ edge of the hidden sm in other hearts. She was ^drc r .^. '-^^^ '^« - '^" / yy ) they ? Could they be other 124 '^Ae Scarlet Letter „iS, than the insidious whispers of the bad angel, who would fain have persuaded the struggling woman, as yet only half his victim, tha^/the outward guise of purity was but a lie, and that, if truth were everywhere to be shown, a scarlet letter would blaze forth on many a bosom besides Hester Prynne's ? / Or, must she receive those intima- tions — so obscure, yet so distinct — as truth ? In all her miserable experience, there was noth- ing else so awful and so loathsome as this sense. It perplexed, as well as shocked her, by the ir- reverent inopportuneness of the occasions that brought it into vivid action. Sometimes the red infamy upon her breast would give a sympathetic throb, as she passed near a venerable minister or magistrate, the model of piety and justice, to whom that age of antique reverence looked up, as to a mortal man in fellowship with angels. " What evil thing is at hand ? " would Hester say to herself. Lifting her reluctant eyes, there would be nothing human within the scope of view, save the form of this earthly saint! Again, a mystic sisterhood would contumaciously assert itself, as she met the sanctified frown of some matron, who, according to the rumor of all tongues, had keptfcold snow, within her bosom throughout life. That unsunned snow in the matron's bosom, and the burning shame on Hes- ter Prynne's, — what had the two in common ? letter I angel, who ling woman, itward guise truth were etter would ides Hester lose intima- — as truth ? e was noth- i this sense. ", by the ir- :asions that mes the red sympathetic )le minister d justice, to looked up, ^'ith angels, uld Hester eyes, there e scope of It! Again, ously assert I'n of some tnor of all her bosom now in the ne on Hes- i common ? "^Ae Scarlet Letter 125 Or, once more, the electric thrill would give her warning, — « Behold, Hester, here is a compan- ion ! " — and, looking up, she would detect the eyes of a young maiden glancing at the scarlet letter, shyly and aside, and quickly averted with a faint, chill crimson in her cheeks; as if her purity were somewhat sullied by that momentary glance. O Fiend, whose talisman was that fatal symbol, wouldst thou leave nothing, whether in youth or age, for this poor sinner to revere ? — such loss of faith is ever one of the saddest results of sin. Be it accepted as a proof that all was not corrupt in this poor victim of her own frailty, and man's hard law, that Hester Prynne yet struggled to believe that no fellow-mortal was guilty like hv^rself. The vulgar, who, in those dreary old times, were always contributing a grotesque horror to what interested their imaginations, had a story about the scarlet letter which we might readily work up into a terrific legend. They averred, that the symbol was not mere scarlet cloth, tinged in an earthly dye-pot, but was red-hot with infer- nal fire, and could be seen glowing all alight, whenever Hester Prynne walked abroad in the night-time. And we must needs say, it seared Hester's bosom so deeply, that perhaps there was more truth in the rumor than our modern incredulity may be inclined to admit. "Pearl E have us yet hardly spoken of Ithe infant; that little creature, .whose innocent life had sprung, |by the inscrutable decree of Prov- idence, a lovely and immortal flower, out of the rank luxuriance of a guilty passion. How strange it seemed to the sad woman, as she watched the growth, and the beauty that became every day more brilliant, and the intelligence that threw its quivering sunshine over the tiny features of this child ! Her Pearl ! — For so had Hester called her; not as a name expressive of her aspect, which had nothing of the calm, white, unimpassioned lustre that would be indicated by th£ comparison. But she named the infant " Pearl," as being of great price, — purchased with all she had, — a mother's pnly treasure ! How strange, indeed ! Man had marked this woman's sin by a scariet letter, which had such potent and disastrous efficacy that no human sympathy could reach her, save it were sinful like herself God, as a direct consequence of the sin which man thus punished, had given "^Ae Scarlet Letter spoken of e creature, ad sprung, 26 of Prov- immortal )f a guilty ;o the sad I, and the ■illiant, and g sunshine ^er Pearl ! as a name lothing of that would she iiamed t price, — her's pnly Man had tter, which y that no ^e it were nsequence had given 127 he> a lovely child, whose place was on that same d^honored bosom, to connect her parent for- ever w.th the race and descent of mortals, and to be finally a blessed soul in heaven ! Yet these thoughts affected Hester Prynne less with hope than apprehension. She knew that her deed had been ev,l; she could have no faith, therefore, that .ts result would be good. Day after day he looked fearfully into the child's' expanding nature, ever dreading to detect some dark and wild pecuhanty, that should correspond with the guhcjness to which she owed her being Certainly, there was no physical defect.' Bv its perfect shape, its vigor, and its natural dexterity m the use of all ,ts untried limbs, the infant was worthy to have been brought forth in Eden worthy to have been left there, to be the play- thmg of the angels, after the worid's first parents werednven out. The child had a native grace which does not invariably coexist with faultless beauty ; ,ts attire, however simple, always im- pressed the beholder as if it were the ve^ ga7b that precisely became it best. But little Pearl a'mo^'d'''" '" ™f ^ ""'=• ^" --"". -"h a morbid puijose that may be better understood hereafter, had bought the richest tissues that could be procured, and allowed her imaginative feculty Its full play i„ the arrangement and dec" ration of the dresses which the child wore, before 128 Ts/ie Scarlet Letter iii i;i' M the public eye. So magnificent was the smail figure, when thus arrayed, and such was the splendor of Pearl's own proper beauty, shining through the gorgeous robes which might have extinguished a paler loveliness, that there was an absolute circle of radiance around her, on the darksome cottage floor. And yet a russet gown, torn and soiled with the child's rude play, made a picture of her just as perfect . Pearl's aspect was imbued with a spell of infinite variety ; in this one child there were many children, compre- hending the full scope between the wild-flower prettiness of a peasant-baby, and the pomp, in little, of an infant princess. Throughout all, however, there was a trait of passion, a certain depth of hue, which she never lost ; and if. In any of her changes, she had grown fainter or paler, she would have ceased to be herself, — it would have been no longer Pearl ! This outward mutability indicated, and did not more than fairly express, the various properties of her inner life. Her nature appeared to possess depth, too, as well as variety; but — or else Hester's fears deceived her — it lacked reference and adaptation to the world into which she was born. The child could not be made amenable to rules. In giving her existence, a great law had been broken ; and the result was a being whose elements were perhaps beautiful and brilliant, but inr *^/ic Scarlet Letter 129 a I m disorder; or with an order peculiar to themselves, amidst which the point of variety and arrangement was difficult or impossible to be discovered. Hester could only account for the ch.lds character -and even then most vaguely and >mperfectly_by recalling what she herself had been, dunng that momentous period while Pearl was .mbibrng her soul from the spiritual wor d, d her bodily frame from its material of earth. The mothers impassioned state had been he medmm through which were transmitted to the unborn mfant the rays of its moral life ; and however white and clear originally, the; had' aken the deep stams of crimson and gold, the fiery lustre, the black shadow, and the untem- pered light of the intervening substance, ^bove all, the warfare of Hester's spirit, at that epoch was perpetuated in Pearl. She could recognize her wild, desperate, defiant mood, the flightiness of her temper, and even some of the very cloud- ' tZL t°"l '"''/ 'l^PO'-dency that had nated by the morning radiance of a young child's disposition, but later in the day of earthly existent might be prolific of the storm and^ The discipline of the family. i„ those days, was of a far more rigid kind than now. The frown, the harsh rebuke, the frequent application 130 ISA e Scarlet Letter }'': of the rod, enjoined by Scriptural authority, were used, not merely in the way of punishment for actual offences, but as a wholesome regimen for the growth and promotion of all childish virtues. Hester Prynne, nevertheless, the lonely mother of this one child, ran little risk of erring on the side of undue severity. Mindful, however, of her own errors and misfortunes, she early sought to impose a tender, but strict control over the infant immortality that was committed to her charge. But the task was beyond her skill. After testing both smiles and frowns, and prov- ing that neither mode of treatment possessed any calculable influence, Hester was ultimately compelled to stand aside, and permit the child to Vbe swayed by her own impulses. Physical com- I pulsion or restraint was effectual, of course, while it lasted. As to any other kind of discipline, whether addressed to her mind or heart, little Pearl might or might not be within its reach, in accordance with the caprice that ruled the mo- ment. Her mother, while Pearl was yet an infant, grew acquainted with a certain peculiar look, that warned her when it would be labor thrown away to insist, persuade, or p!ead. It was a look so intelligent, yet inexplicable, so perverse, sometimes so malicious, but generally accompanied by a wild flow of spirits, that Hester could not help questioning, at such r-\ '^Ae Scarlet Letter 131 moments, whether Pearl were a human child. She seemed rather an airy sprite, which, afte playmg ,ts fantastic sport, for a little while upon ^cottage floor, would flit away with a mocking sm.le Whenever that look appeared in hef w. d. bnght, deeply black eyes, Z invested h with a strange remoteness and intangibility: it was as , she were hovering i„ the air and migh van,sh, l,ke a gli„,„,ering light, that comes le know not whence, and goes we know not To rusTt ^'';"'i,"^ t' "'"^^ "- ----"d elf r^her 1' "'?.'^'''''-'° P-»« the little elf m the flight which she invariably began, _ o snatch her to her bosom, with a close pL „re and earnest kisses. -not so much from over- flesh and blood, and not utterly delusive. But 1 Pearl s laugh, when she was caught, though fu" M ^"^doubtful than before. spell, that so often came between herself and her who '''"'"f',"''""" 'h^ '■"d bought so dear, and who was all her world, Hester sometimes burst nto passionate tears. Then, perhaps, - for -TeaT "°,^r^''"g ''-i' "ight affect her, ,JT A . ™*"' ^"^ '='™''' her little fist, and harden her small features into a stern un- sympathizing look of discontent. Not seldom «3« 'gAc Scarlet Letter she would laugh anew, and louder than before, like a thing incapable and unintelligent of human sorrow. Or — but this more rarely happened she would be convulsed with a rage of grief, and sob out her love for her mother, in broken words, and seem intent on proving that she had a heart , by breaking it. Yet Hester was hurdly safe in confiding herself to that gusty tenderness ; it passed, as suddenly as it came. Brooding over all these matters, the mother felt like one who has evoked a spirit, but, by some irregularity in the process of conjuration, has failed to win the master-word that should control this new and incomprehensible intelligence. Her only real comfort was when the child lay in the placidity of sleep. Then she was sure of her, and tasted hours of quiet, sad, delicious happiness ; until perhaps with that perverse expression glimmer- ing from beneath her opening lids — little Pearl awoke I How soon — with what strange rapidity, in- deed ! — did Pearl arrive at an age that was capable of social intercourse, beyond the moth- er's ever-ready smile and nonsense- words ! And then what a happiness would it have been, could Hester Prynne have heard her clear, bird-like voice mingling with the uproar of other childish voices, and have distinguished and unravel 'ed her own dariing's tones, amid all the entangled !^/ie Scarlet Letter 133 outcry of a group of sportive children ! But th.s could never be. Pearl was a born outcas of the .nfantile world. An imp of evil, emblem «nd product of sin. she had no righ * able than the ,„stmct, as it seemed, with which tiny th hTf '"'^^'^ 1" '•>""■"-= thedes nny that had drawn an inviolable circle round about her; the whole peculiarity, i„ short, Jher position .n respect to other children. Never Z^ her release from prison, had Hester me the t'^owfrf """'"• '""'">" wallcs bu . fown. Pearl, too, was there; first as the babe '" ""''.' '"d/fterwards as the little girl sm^ She saw the children of the settlement oTtl,!; thresholds, disportmg themselves in such srim fash,o„ as the Puritanic nurture would per^t firi/o'^r " '""''''' P^^l-onceror t" fight with ?^:rj "' "''"^ ^"'p^ '" " ''■— wfth frll 'f^""?'^"' ' " ^^^""g o« another with freaks of imitative witchcraft. Pearl saw and ga^ed intently, but never sought omaZ* acquaintance. IfsDoken,„ S""^ to make sneak »„,;„ ir u Pf"'" ^°> she would not speak ag„„. jf ^^^ ^^.,^_.^_^ »s they sometimes did. Pearl would grow posi- 134 T5/i c Sea rlet Letter »>• V ^■ tively terrible in her puny wrath, snatching up stones to fling at them, with shrill, incoherent exclamations, that made her mother tremble, because they had so much the sound of a witch's ^, ..anathemas in some unknown tongue. The truth was, that the little Puritans, being of the most intolerant brood that ever lived, had got a vague idea of something outlandish, un- earthly, or at variance with ordinary fashions, in the mother and child ; and therefore scorned them in their hearts, and not unfrequently re- viled them with their tongues. Pearl felt the sentiment, and requited it with the bitterest hatred that can be supposed to rankle in a childish bosom. These outbreaks of a fierce temper had a kind of value, and even comfort, for her mother ; because there was at least an intelligible earnestness in the mood, instead of the fitful caprice that so often thwarted her in the child's manifestations. It appalled her, nev- ertheless, to discern here, ngain, a shadowy re- flection of the evil that had existed in herself. All this enmity and passion had Pearl inher- ited, by inalienable right, out of Hester's heart. Mother and daughter stood together in the same — circle of seclusion from human society ; and in the nature of the child seemed to be perpetuated those unquiet elements that had distracted Hester Prynne before Pearl's birth, but had since begun '^^g Scarlet letter '35 to be sooehed away by the softening influence, of maternity. ^ "cuces cottaL''°r', ""'"""/"'* """""^ 1^" '""''^"■^ 6 Tof •™"'''' ""' ^ *'''^ '"'^ ™"°- forth f "2""""""- ^'" 'P'" «'" "'■'= ««"t forth from er ever-creative spirit, and commu- kmdies a flame wherever it may be applied. The unhkehest materials -a stick, a bun'^^h of ch nt h ' ■"' ""^"g°i"8 ="'y outward change, became sp.ntually adapted to whatever Her one baby-vo.ce served a multitude of imag. ";ary personage, old ,„d ,„ ^^ « The p,„e-tre.., aged, black and solemn, and on the breeze, needed little transformation to th'e "Jh ""''" "'"'= ">^ "g"=- "«d"of ' ^ot: Tnd : :\i"'^^"' "'"•"' ^-' aown and uprooted, most unmercifully ;nd«dB„.darHngupt*rda:-^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ down a P/"?'^"' ""'"'y. - -on Lking r simi, ' '•u'"'^ '""«''^'' ''y o"'" shapes of a sm.larw.ld energy. It was like nothing so much as the phantasmagoric play of the northern f, ill |!ili:iL lii''i 1. ^36 '^Ae Scarlet Letter lights. In the mere exercise of the fancy, how- ever, and the sportiveness of a growing mind, there might be little more than was observable in other children of bright faculties; except as Pearl, in the dearth of human playmates, was thrown more upon the visionary throng which she created. The singularity lay in the hostile feelings with which the child regarded all these offspring of her own heart and mind. She never created a friend, but seemed always to be sowing broadcast the dragon's teeth, whence sprung a harvest of armed enemies, against whom she rushed to battle. It was inexpressibly sad then what depth of sorrow to a mother, who felt in her own heart the cause ! — to observe, in one so young, this constant recognition of an adverse world, and so fierce a training of the energies that were to make good her cause, in the contest that must ensue. Gazing at Pearl, Hester Prynne often dropped her work upon her knees, and cried out with an agony which she would fain have hidden, but which made utterance for itself, betwixt speech and a groan, — « O Father in Heaven,— if Thou art still my Father, — what is this being which I have brought into the world!" And Pearl, overhearing the ejaculation, or aware, through some more subtile channel, of those throbs of anguish, would turn her vivid and \.y ^he Scarlet Letter w beautiful little face upon her mother, smile with spr.te-l,ke intelligence, and resume her play One peculiarity of the child's deportment re- Tl I" t° ■" "'''• '^^^ ^"y ««t thins which she had noticed in her life was -what? -not the mother's smile, responding to it as other ,b.es do. by that faint, embryo' smile of the httle mouth, remembered so doubtfUlly after- wards, and with such fond discussion whether it were mdeed a smile. By np. means! But th first object of which Pear^ seemed to become awar. was -shall we say it? -the scarlet let". «f Hesters bosom! One day. as her mother (stooped over the cradle, the infant's eyes had beer, caught by the glimmering of the gold embroidery about the letter; and, putting up her httle hand, she grasped at it, smiling,^ot doubtfully, but with a decided gleam, thaf gave her face th. look of a much older child. The„ rZ 1 '""'• ''' ""'" ''^-"^ clutch the fatal token mstmctively endeavoring to tear ■t away ; so mfinite was the torture'inflicTed by the .ntelhgent touch of Pearl's baby-hatd Agam, as .f her mother's agoni^ed gestuL w^- Pe^rioTk^inr H™'' '""' '"' '"' "'^ "^^ ' l-earl look mto her eyes, and smile ! From that epoch, except when the child was asleep, Het" had never felt a moment's safety; Zt a mo- ment s calm enjoyment of her. Weeks, it i. //• ■ - ■ i K M »w 138 ISAe Scarle t Letter true, would sometimes elapse, during which Pearl's gaze might never once be fixed upon the scarlet letter ; but then, again, it would come at unawares, like the stroke of sudden death, and always with that peculiar smile, and odd expres- sion of the eyes. Once, this freakish, elvish cast came into the child's eyes, while Hester was looking at her own image in them, as mothers are fond of doing ; and, suddenly, — for women in solitude, and with troubled hearts, are pestered with un- accountable delusions, — she fancied that she beheld, not her own miniature portrait, but another face, in the small black mirror of Pearl's eye. It was a face, fiend-like, full of smiling malice, yet bearing the semblance of features that she had known full well, though seldom with a smile, and never with malice in them. It was as if an evil spirit possessed the child, and had just then peeped forth in mockery. Many a time i afterwards had Hester been tortured, though less ' vividly, by the same illusion. In the afternoon of a certain summer's day, after Pearl grew big enough to run about, she amused herself with gathering handfuls of wild- flowers, and flinging them, one by one, at her mother's bosom; dancing up and down, like a little elf, whenever she hit the scarlet letter. Hester's first motion had be m to cover her m !;! "^Ae Scarlet Letter 139 bosom with her clasped hands. But, whether trom pride or resignation, or a feeling that her penance might best be wrought out by this un- utterable pain, she resisted the impulse, and sat erect,^ pale as death, looking sadly into little Pearls w,ld eyes. Still came the battery of flowers, almost invariably hitting the mark, and covermg the mother's breast with hurts for which she could find no balm in this world, nor knew how to seek it in another. At last, her shot being .11 expended, the child stood still and ^"ea at Hester, with that little, laughing image of a hend peeping out -or, whether it peeped or no, her mother so imagined it -from the unsearchable abyss of her black eyes. ^'1 Child, what art thou .? " cried the mother. O, 1 am your little Pearl !" answered the child. But, while she said it. Pearl laughed, and be- gan to dance up and down, with the humorsome gesticulation of a little imp, whose next freak might be to fly up the chimney. "Art thou my child, in very truth?" asked rl ester. Nor did she put the question altogether idly, but, tor the moment, with a portion of genuine earnestness ; for, such was Pearl's wonderful in- tehigence, that her mother half doubted whether she were not acquainted with the secret spell of her existence, and might not now reveal herself. MUMMamai-w^ f' w ho 140 l§Ae Scarlet Letter ateiMi "Yes; I am little Pearl!" repeated the child, continuing her antics. " Thou art not my child ! Thou art no Pearl of mine ! " said the mother, half playfully ; for it was often the case that a spordve impulse came over her, in the midst of her deepest suffering. •'Tell me, then, what thou art, and who sent thee hither." " Tell me, mother ! " said the child, seriously, coming up to Hester, and pressing herself close to her knees. "Do thou tell me!" "Thy Heavenly Father sent thee!" answered Hester Prynne. But she said it with a hesitation that did not escape the acuteness of the child. Whether moved only by her ordinary freakishness, or because an evil spirit prompted her, she put up her small forefinger, and touched the scarlet letter. " He did not send me ! " cried she, positively. ^Vj" I have no Heavenly Father I " " Hush, Pearl, hush I Thou must not talk so ! " answered the mother, suppressing a groan. " He sent us all into this world. He sent even me, thy mother. Then, much more, thee ! Or, if not, thou strange and elfish child, whence didst thou come ? " "Tell me! Tell me!" repeated Pearl, no longer seriously, but laughing, and capering H Letter :d the child, art no Pearl fully ; for it ipulse came St suffering, d who sent d, seriously, lerself close !" answered hat did not Whether ishness, or she put up the scarlet , positively. !t not talk ig a groan, sent even thee ! Or, bence didst '^Ae Scarlet Letter 141 about the floor. " It is thou that must tell But Hester could not resolve the query, being herself ,„ , dismal labyrinth of doubt Shf Tm./ 7 ''""'" '^ ^'"'''= -'' " shudder - the talk of the neighboring townspeople; who «ek,ng vamly elsewhere for the child/pa;rnity: and observ,ng some of her odd attributes, had ' given out that poor little Pearl was a demo^ off- i ^pnng; such a, ever since old Catholic times, i had occasionally been seen on earth, through the agency of their mother's sin, and to promote some foul and wicked purpose. Luther, accord- mg to the scandal of his monkish enemies, was a brat of that hellish breed; nor was Pe^ri the only child to whom this inauspicious origin was assigned, an.ong the New England Pur,' ans. Pearl, no 1 capering .-" ..«!..!!, ^^e^oVerrxprs oHall JESTER PRYNNE went, one (day, to the mansion of Governor Bellingham, with a pair of gloves, [which she had fringed and em- ibroidered to his order, and which were to be worn on some great occasion of state; for, though the chances of a popular election had caused this former ruler to descend a step or two from the highest rank, he still held an honora- ble and influential place among the colonial magistracy. Another and far more important reason than the delivery of a pair of embroidered gloves im- pelled Hester, at this time, to seek an "nterview with a personage of so much power and activity in the affairs of the settlement. It had reached her ears, that there was a design on the part of some of the leading inhabitants, cherishing the more rigid order of principles in religion and government, to deprive her of her child. On the supposition that Pearl, as already hinted, was of demon origin, these good people not un- reasonably argued that a Christian interest in the "^Ae Scarlet Letter 143 mother's soul required them to remove such a stumblmg-block from her path. If the child, on the other hand, were really capable of moral and religious growth, and possessed the elements of ultimate salvation, then, surely, it would enjoy ail the fairer prospect of these advantages, by being transferred to wiser and better guardianship than Hester Prynne's. Among those who pro- moted the design, Governor Bellingham was said to be one of the most busy. It may appear sin- gular, and indeed, not a little ludicrous, that an affair of this kind, which, in later days, would have been referred to no higher jurisdiction than that of the selectmen of the town, should then have been a question publicly discussed, and on which statesmen of eminence took sides. At that epoch of pristine simplicity, however, matters of even slighter public interest, and of far less in- trinsic weight, than the welfare of Hester and her child,, were strangely mixed up with the deliberations of legislators and acts of state The period was hardly, if at all, earlier than that of our story, when a dispute concerning the right of property in a pig, „ot only caused a fierce and bitter contest in the legislative body of the colony but resulted in an important modification of the framework itself of the legislature. Full of concern, therefore, - but so conscious of her own right that it seemed scarcely an t^'Hft, 144 *SA eSca rlef Letter unequal match between the public, on the on- side, and a lonely woman, backea by the sym- pathies of nature, on the other, — Hester Prynne set forth from her solitary cottage. Little Pearl, of course, was her companion. She was now of an age to run lightly along by her mother's side, and, constantly in mcaon, from morn till sunset, could have accomplished a much longer journey than that before her. Often, nevertheless, more from caprice than necessity, she demanded to be taken up in arms ; but was soon as imperious to be set down again, and frisked onward before Hester on the grassy pathway, with many a harmless trip and tumble. We have spoken of Pearl's rich and luxuriant beauty ; a beauty that shone with deep and vivid tints ; a bright com- plexion, eyes possessing intensity both of depth and glow, and hair already of a deep, glossy brown, and which, in after years, would be nearly akin to black. There was fire in her and throughout her ; she seemed the unpremeditated offshoot of a passionate moment. Her mother, in contriving the child's garb, had allowed the gorgeous tenden- cies of her imagination their full play ; arraying her in a crimson velvet tunic, of a peculiar cut, abundantly embroidered with fantasies and flour- ishes of gold-thread. So much strength of color- ing, which must have given a wan and palid aspect to cheeks of a fainter bloom, was admirably adapted ^Ae Scarlet Letter .45 lu 1 ..,1 , beauty, and made her the very brighte" / l.«^ J« of flame that evet danced upon the el But ,t was a remarkable attribute of this earb ' and mdeed, of the child's whole appe rf: e' behold 'T'f ""^ ""^ '"'^""'''y reminded "he beholder of the token which Hester Pry„„e was doomed to wear upon her bosom. It'^wL Z Tdl" 1"'" '"/-"'- fo™ ; the scarleHett the rid':::'' '"^ ' "^"^ ■"-"^ herself- as " form h,d f „ " ""«P'i°"« assumed its form -had carefully wrought out the similitude- \ lavshmg many hours of morbid ingenu T to ^ create ,n analogy between the obie« 7'h" other and tl ™' "'' °"=' ^' "^" =" '^e had H.,. ^ '" ~"''1"^n« of that identity naa Hester contrived so oerf^rfl,, , ' the scarlet letter in I P"'^"'^ "> represent wriet letter m her appearance. / As the two wayfarers came within the precincts ' up tmT- ''^''"""" °' "^' Puritans loked up from their play, -or what passed for plav w.th those sombre little urchins, _ and spake gravely one to another : — ^^ let'Ie«t°'i7"'^' '^"' '" '^' "'""''" °f 'he scar- Keness of the scarlet letter running along by her -Je! Come, therefore, and let us fling'mud at to 146 l§/ie Scarlet Letter film But Pearl, who was a dauntless child, after frowning, stamping her foot, and shaking her little hand with a variety of threatening gestures, suddenly made a rush at the knot of her enemies, and put them all to flight. She resembled, in her fierce pursuit of them, an infant pestilence, — the scarlet fever, or some such half-fledged angel of judgment, — whose mission was to punish the sins of the rising generation. She screamed and shouted, too, with a terrific volume of sound, which, doubtless, caused the hearts of the fugitives to quake within them. The vic- tory accomplished. Pearl returned quietly to her mother, and looked up, smiling, into her face. Without further adventure, they reached the dwelling of Governor Bellingham. This was a large wooden house, built in a fashion of which there are specimens still extant in the streets of our older towns ; now moss-grown, crumbling to decay, and melancholy at heart with the many sorrowful or joyful occurrences, remembered or forgotten, that have happened, and passed away, within their dusky chambers. Then, however, there was the freshness of the passing year on Its exterior, and the cheerfulness, gleaming forth from the sunny windows, of a human habitation, into which death had never entered. It had, indeed, a very cheery aspect; the walls being overspread with a kind of stucco, in which frag- efter hild, after alcing her I gestures, r enemies, mbled, in pestilence, ilf-fledged 1 was to ion. She ic volume hearts of The vic- tly to her ;r face, iched the his was a of which le streets rrumbling the many nbered or sed away, however, ; year on ling forth labitation. It had, ills being hich frag- "^Ae Scarlet Letter 147 ments of broken glass were plentifully inter- m,«d; so that, when the sunshine fell aslLt-wise sparkled as ,f diamonds had been flung against h, 'k /°f' ' handful. //The bHllianfyLgh have befitted Aladdin's palace, rather than fhe mansion of a grave old Puritan ruler. It was furt er decorated with strange and seemingly cabal,st,c figures and diagrams, suitable to fhe quamt taste of the age, which had been drawn m the stucco when newly laid on, .nd had now at: tir '"' ''"''-' '- '^= ^-■-'^-^ Pearl, looking at this bright wonder of a house began to caper and dance, and imperatively re- qmred that the whole breadth of sunshine sh'ould be^ «npped ofl^ ,ts front, and given her to play "No, my little Pearl!" said her mother. Thou must gather thine own sunshine. I nave none to give thee ! " ,2^7 /^^'"^'^'^ the door; which was of an arched form, and flanked on each side by a nar- row tower or projection of the edifice, in both of wh,ch were lattice-windows, with wooden shut- ters to close over them at need. Lifting the iron hammer that hung at the portal, Hester Prynne gave^a summons, which was answered by one of the/^Govern^r:s_ bond-servants ; a free-bom Eng- ■ 148 T5^e Scarlet Letter V«fi"iiiit lishman, but now a seven years' slave. During that term he was to be the property of his mas- ter, and as much a commodity of bargain and sale as an ox, or a joint-stool. The serf wore the blue coat, which was the customary garb of serving-men of that period, and long before, in the old hereditary halls of England. " Is the worshipful Governor Rellingham with- in ? " inquired Hester. " Yea, forsooth," replied the bond-servant, star- ing with wide-open eyes at the scarlet letter, which, being a new-comer in the country, he had never before seen. " Yea, his honorable wor- ship is within. But he hath a godly minister or two with him, and likewise a leech. Ye may not see his worship now." " Nevertheless, I will enter," answered Hester Prynne, and the bond-servant, perhaps judging from the decision of her air, and the glittering symbol in her bosom, that she was a great lady in the land, offered no opposition. So the mother and little Pearl were admitted into the hall of entrance. With many varia- tions, suggested by the nature of his building- materials, diversity of climate, and a different mode of social life. Governor Bellingham had planned his new habitation after the residences of gentlemen of fair estate in his native land. Here, then, was a wide and reasonably lofty hall. iter During his mas- ra'n and erf wore garb of jfore, in im with- int, star- t letter, itry, he .ble wor- lister or may not [ Hester judging [littering sat lady idmitted y varia- luilding- difFerent am had sidences '■e land, fty hall, "^Ae Scarlet Letter 149 extending through the whole Jepth of the house •nd fonmng a medium of general comm more or less directly, with aT ,hc orer"'""' Zsth,e1,\°"',"""'"'"^' "'■^ 'p°cious Tom" porta Ttl" '"■'" '■"»' °" ^"h" -J^ of the portal. At the , ther env , though partly muffled ; VnroT't' ^'' r ^°^"'""' '"-^"-^ wereadofin M^'i"*"' '"'"-'"dows which we read of m old books, and which was provided w.th a deep and cushioned seat. Here on the cles of tngland, or other such substantial litera- ture , even as m our own days, we scatter gilded volumes on the centre-table, to be turned^ver by the casual guest. The furniture of the ha cons,sted of some ponderous chairs, the back of which were elaborately carved wi,h u ofoakenflowers:andlLrea: eilt: hither from he Governor's paternal home. On the table- m token that the sentiment of o^d En^,sh hospaahty had not been left behind- which h d^H*^--^^' " "■' '"'«°" of wh.ch had Hester or Pearl peeped into it, they d^SghtXr*^""''"^ -•""-' »^^--^ On the wall hung a row of portraits, repre- 150 *^/i eSca rlef Letter V'<«i4lj((i^ senting the forefathers of the Bellingham lineage, some with armor on their breasts, and others with stately ruffs and robes of peace. All were characterized by the sternness and severity which old portraits so invariably put on ; as if they were the ghosts, rather than the pictures, of de- parted worthies, and were gazing with harsh and intolerant criticism at the pursuits and enjoy- ments of living men. At about the centre of the oaken panels, that lined the hall, was suspended a suit of mail, not, like the pictures, an ancestral relic, but of the most modern date ; for it had been manufactured by a skilful armorer in London, the same year in which Governor Bellingham came over to New England. There was a steel head-piece, a cuirass, a gorget, and greaves, with a pair of gauntlets and a sword hanging beneath ; all, and especially the helmet and breastplate, so highly burnished as to glow with white radiance, and scatter an illumination everywhere about upon the floor. This bright panoply was not meant for mere idle sh'-w, but had been worn by the Governor on many a solemn muster and training field, and had glittered, moreover, at the head of a regiment in the Pequod war. For, though bred a lawyer, and accustomed to speak of Bacon, Coke, Noye, and Finch as his professional asso- ciates, the exigencies of this new country had I tfer . lineage, i others All were ty which if they 3, of de- irsh and [ enjoy- lels, that lail, not, : of the factured me year over to id-piece, pair of all, and ) highly ice, and It upon t meant by the training tie head though f Bacon, lal asso- try had yAe Scarlet Letter 151 transformed Governor Bellingham into a soldier, as well as a statesman and ruler witt'','Jr ^'''^-''^° ^^ '^' greatly pleased w.th he gleammg armor as she had been with the glittermg frontispiece of the hou-_snent some time looking into the polished mirror of the breastplate. Look^"'''"'" """^ '*"' " ' '"' ''°" ''"=• Look! .h,-M°'"^ 'T''"'' ^^ "^y "f ''"'""ring the child; and she saw that, owing to the peculiar ' effect of this convex mirror, the scarlet letter was epresented m exaggerated and gigantic propor- alslT . J" fPP^"an«. In truth, she seemed absolutely h.dden behind it. Pearl pointed up- ward, also, at a similar picture in the head-piece • smtlmg at her mother, with the elfish intelligence that was so familiar an expression on her fmall physiognomy. That look of naughty merriment much h""';.''"'""'' '" ">' '"'^™^. "i'h so 11 ^"'"^"'/"d '"""-ty of effect, that it th •„f;"7K'^'^""= '"'' ^ '^ '' ~"'d not be the .mage of her own child, but of an imp who was seekmg to mould itself into Pearl's shape. away. Come and look into this fair garden. It may be we shall see flowers there; mor^ beautiful ones than we find in the woods " ■) HiMMViMMUtuxawii •»>^m^\ H i 152 "^Ae Scarlet Letter Pearl, accordingly, ran to the bow-window, at the farther end of the hall, and looked along the vista of a garden-walk, carpeted with closely shaven grass, and bordered with some rude and immature attempt at shrubbery. But the pro- prietor appeared already to have relinquished, as hopeless, the efForc to perpetuate on this side of the Atlantic, in a hard soil and amid the close struggle for subsistence, the native English taste for ornamental gardening. Cabbages grew in plain sight ; and a pumpkin-vine, rooted at some distance, had run across the intervening space, and deposited one of its gigantic products directly beneath the hall-window ; as if to warn the Governor that this great lump of vegetable gold was as rich an ornament as New England earth would offer him. There were a few rose- bushes, however, and a number of apple-trees, probably the descendants of those planted by the Reverend Mr. Blackstone, the first settler of the peninsula ; thaFlialf-mythological personage, who rides through our early annals, seated on the back of a bull. Pearl, seeing the rose-bushes, began to cry for a red r- se, and would not be pacified. " Hush, child, hush ! " said her mother, ear- nestly. " Do not cry, dear little Pearl ! I hear voices in the garden. The Governor is coming, and gentlemen along with him ! " itfer indow, at ed along h closely rude and the pro- lished, as is side of the close lish taste grew in [ at some ig space, products to warn vegetable England few rose- ple-trees, ;d by the er of the age, who I on the ^Ae Scarlet Letter 153 In fact, adown the vista of the garden avenue a number of persons were seen approaching towards the house. Pearl, in utter scorn of her mother s attempt to quiec her, gave an eldritch scream, and then became silent; not from any notion ot obedience, but because the qu'ck and mobile curiosity of her disposition was excited by the appearance of these new personages. ' -7 :o cry for her, ear- I hear ; coming. ^i »>^« f'^'1\l OVERNOR BELLINGHAM, [in a loose gown and easy cap, — isuch ds elderly gentlemen loved to endue themselves with, in their ^domestic privacy, — walked fore- most, and appeared to be showing off his estate, and expatiating on his projected improvements. The wide circumference of an elaborate rufF, beneath his gray beard, in the antiquated fashion of King James's reign, caused his head to look not a little like that of John the Baptist in a charger. The impression made by his aspect, so rigid and sev -re, and frost-bitten with more than aut'.imnal aqre, was hardly in keeping with the appliances of ..u.^dly enjoyment wherewith he had evidently done his utmost to surround himself. But it is an error to suppose that our grave forefathers — though accustomed to speak and think of human existence as a state merely of trial and warfare, and though unfeignedly pre- pared to sacrifice goods and life at the behest of duty — made it a matter of conscience to re- ject such means of comfort, or even luxury, as "^Ae Scarlet Letter inister FGHAM, sy cap, — len loved fi, in their ked fore- his estate, avements. rate rufF, id fashion to look Dtist in a is aspect, ath more 3ing with (therewith surround that our to speak :e merely edly pre- le behest ce to re- ixury, as 155 lay fa,rly w.thm their grasp. This creed was never taught, for instance, by the veneral e pastor John Wilson, whose beard, white "a snow drift, was seen over Governor Bellingham's s oulder; while its wearer suggested that'pel and peaches m,ght yet be naturalized in the New l^ngland climate, and that purple grapes might poss.bly be compelled to flourish againsrfhe at the nch bosom of the English Church had a long-established and legitimate taste for all good and comfortable things; and however stern he might show himself in the pulpit, or in hi pub c reproof of such transgressiL; as that of Hester Prynne, still, the genial benevolence of his private life had won him warmer affection than was accorded to anv nf h\o ^"''^"°'; contemporaries. ^ ^'" Professional Behind the Governor and Mr. Wilson came ^o other guests : one the Reverend Arth" Dimmesdale, whom the reader may .-emember a stro/nL: "^^t'"-' '-'' - ''' n AACbcer rrynne s disgrace : and in rin«!P |lcompa„,o„3hip with him, ofd R^ger Chilli two or th'"°" "^ ^'''' ^''"' '" ^^y^^' -ho, for own t ''"? P'"' ^''^ "^"^ ^""^d h the- town It was understood that this learned man "■ was the physician as well as friend of the youn^ minister, whose health had severely suffered of ,>'i. 156 "^he Scarlet Le'tfer late, by hts too unreserved self-sacrifice to the labors and duties of the pastoral relatio 1. The Governor, in advance of his visitors, ascended one or two steps, and, throwing open the leaves of -he grea^ hall-window, found him- self close to little Pearh The rhadow oi the curtain fell on Hester Prynne, and partially concealed her. " W!)at have we here ? " said Governor Bell- ingham, looking with surprise at the scarlet little f^g.ie before him. "I profess, I have never sv;en the like, since my days of vanity, in old King James's time, when I was wont to esteem it a high favor to be admitted to a court mask ! There used to be a swarm of these Bmall appari- tions, in holiday time; and we called them children of the Lord of Misrule. But how gat such a guest into my hall .? " " Ay, indeed ! " cried good old Mr. Wilson. " What little bird of scarlet plumage may this be ? Methinks I have seen just such figures, when the sun has been shining through a richly painted window, and tracing out the golden and crimson images across the floor. But that was in the old- land. Prithee, young one, who art thou, and what has ailed thy mother to bedizen thee in this strange fashion .? Art thou a Christian child, — ha? Dost know thy catechi^ O Or art thou one of those naughty elves o> u. ies, whom Letfer m^Kiv!',! layii' rifice to the llstio:!. his visitors, •owing open fonnd him- dow oi the nd piaj-'ially c^ernor Bell- scarlet little have never nity, in old t to esteem :ourt mask 1 nail appari- alled them Jut how gat Ir. Wilson, tiay this be ? jures, when :hly painted nd crimson s in the old- thou, and ;en thee in istian child, ' Or art .. ies, whom ^Ae Scarlet Letfer 157 we thought to have left behind us, with other rehcs of Papistry, in merry old England ? " " I am mother's child," answered the scarlet vision, "and my name is Pearl!" S" 'a r; I v" "Pearl? -Ruby, rather !- or C^^i:^or' ' Red Rose, at the very least, judging from thy hue ! responded the old minister, putting forth his hand in a vain attempt to pat little Pearl on the cheek. « But where is this mother of thine ? Ah ! I see," he added; and, turning to Governor Be hngham, whispered, « This is the selfsame child of whom we have held speech together • and behold here the unhappy woman, Hester Prynne, her mother!" "Sayest thou so.?" cried the Governor. Nay, we might have judged that such a child's mother must needs be V scarlet woman, and a worthy type of her of Babylon ! But she comes at a good time; and we wiU look into this matter forthwith." Governor Bellingham stepped through the window into the hall, followed by his three guests. " Hester Prynne," said he, fixing his naturally stern regard on the wearer of the scarlet letter, there hath been much question concerning thee, oMate. The point hath been weightily discussed, whether we, that are of authority and influence, do well discharge our consciences by trusting an loi\J 158 '^A eSca rlef Letter \ V :»M(.iti|.(,. immortal soul, such as there is in yonder child, to the guidance of one who hath stumbled and fallen, amid the pitfalls of this world. Speak thou, the child's own mother! Were it not, thinkest thou, for thy little one's temporal and eternal welfare that she be taken out of thy charge, and clad soberly, and disciplined strictly, and instructed in the truths of heaven and earth? What canst thou do for the child, in this kind?" " I can teach my little Pearl what I have learned from this ! " answered Hester Prynne, laying her finger on the red token. " Woman, it is thy badge of shame ! " replied the stern magistrate. "It is because of the stain which that letter Indicates, that we would transfer thy child to other hands." " Nevertheless," said the mother, calmly, though growing more pale, "this badge hath taught me — it daily teaches me — it is teaching me at this moment — lessons whereof my child may be the wiser and better, albeit they can profit nothing to myself." "We will judge warily," said Bellingham, "and look well what we are about to do. Good Master Wilson, I pray you, examine this Pearl, — since that is her name, — and see whether she hath had such Christian nurture as befits a child of her age." "^Ae Scarlet Letter 159 The old minister seated himself in an arm- chair, and made an effort to draw Pearl betwixt his knees. But the child, unaccustomed to the touch or familiarity of any but her mother, escaped through the open window, and stood on the upper step, looking like a wild tropical bird, of rich plumage, ready to take flight into the upper air. Mr. Wilson, not a little astonished at this outbreak, — for he was a grandfatherly sort of personage, and usually a vast favorite with children, — essayed, however, to proceed with the examination. " Pearl," said he, with great solemnity, « thou must take heed to instruction, that so, in due season, thou mayest wear in thy bosom the pearl o^ g^eat jpricfi. Canst thou tell me, my chiia' who made thee?" ' Now Pearl knew well enough who made her • for Hester Prynne, the daughter of a pious home, very soon after her talk with the child about her Heavenly Father, had begun to inform her of those truths which the human spirit, at whatever stage of immaturity, imbibes with such eager interest. Pearl, therefore, so large were the attainments of her three years' lifetime, could have borne a fair examination 'inlhe New Eng- land Primer, or the first column of the West- minster Catechisms, although unacquainted with the ouf.r ,rd form of either of those celebrated « i6o ^/i eSca rlef Letter ^*., / works. But that perveroity which all children have more or less of, and of which little Pearl had a tenfold portion, now, at the most inoppor- tune moment, took thorough possession of her, and closed her li' , „. .iipelled her to speak words amiss. After putting her. finger in her mouth, with many ungracious refusals to answer good Mr. Wilson's question, the child finally announced that she had not been made at all, but had been plucked by her mother off the bush of wild roses that grew by the prison- door. This fantasy was probably suggested by the near proximity f the Governor's red m ^s, as Pearl stood outside of the window ; together with her recollection of the prison rose-bush, which she had passed in coming hither. Old Roger Chillingworth, with a smile on his- face, whisperer! something in the young clergy- man's ear. Hester "rynne looked at the man of ski and ^iven len, with her fate hanging in the balance, was startled to perceive what a change h^d come over his features, — how much uglier they were, — how his dark complexion seemed to have grown ^"'uskier, and his ^igure more misshapen, --since the days when she had familiarly known a She met his eyes for an instant, but was mt itely constrained to give all her attention to the scene now goir^ forward. itter children :tle Pearl inoppor- n of her, to spealc ir in her answer d finally ie at all, ■ off the ; prison- 1 by the m »s, as :her with ti, which e on his r clergy- the man hanging what a )w much nplexion is figure she had s for an to give brward. "^Ae Scarlet Letter i6i This IS awful ! •• cried the Governor, slowly recovenng from the astonishment into which Pearl's response had thrown him. «« Here is a child of three years old, and she cannot tell who made her I Without question, she is equally in the dark as to her soul, its present depravity, and future destmy ! Methinks, gentlemen, we need inquire no further." Hester caught .Id of Pearl, and drew her forcibly into her arms, confronting the old Puri- tan magistrate with almost a fierce expression. Alone m the world, cast off by it, and with this sole treasure to keep her heart alive, she felt that she possessed indefeasible rights against the world, and was ready to defend them to the death. " God gave me the child ! " cried she. « He gave her in requital of all things else, which ye I taken from me. She is my happiness ! — she IS my torture, none the less 1 Pearl keeps me here in life ! Pearl punishes me too ! See ye not, she is the scarlet letter, only capable of bemg loved, and so endowed with a m .on-fold the power of retribution for my sin? Y-: .Hali not take her! I will die first! " "My poor woman," said the not unkind old mmister, "the child shall be well cared for! — far better than thou canst do it." " God gave her into my keeping," repeated II A- i6a 'g^c Scarl et Letter Hester Prynne, raising her voice almost to a shriek. " 1 will not give her up ! " — And here, by a sii Iden impulse, she turned to the young clergyman, Mr. Dimmesdale, at whom, up to this moment, she had seemed hardly so much as once to direct her eyes. — " Speak thou for me ! " cried she. " Thou wast my pastor, and hadst charge of my soul, and knowest me bet- " ter than these men can. I will not lose the child! Speak for me! Thou knowest, — for thou hast sympathies which these men lack ! — thou knowest what is in my heart, and what a e a mother's rights, and how much the stronger they are, when that mother has but her child and the scarlet letter ! Look thou to it ! I will not lose the child ! Look to it ! " At this wild and singular appeal, which indi- cated that Hester Prynne's situation had pro- voked her to little less than madness, the young minister at once came forward, pale, and hold- ing his hand over his heart, as was his custom whenever his peculiarly nervous temperament was thrown into agitation. He looked now more careworn and emaciated than as we de- scribed him at the scene of Hester's public igno- miny; and whether it were his failing health, or whatever the cause might be, his large dark eyes had a world of pain in their troubled and melancholy depth. " There is truth in what she says," began the minister, with a voice sweet, tremulous, but powerful, insomuch that the hall re-echoed, and the hollow armor rang with it, —« truth in what Hester says, and in the feeling which inspires her . God gave her the child, and gave her too, an mstinctive knowledge of its nature and requirements, -both seemingly so peculiar,- which no other mortal being can possess. And moreover, is there not a quality of awful sacred- T' u-^!.l ''^'''''" ^"^''" '^'« "^ofJ^er and this child ? . rf.r'~^°'^ '' ^^^^' S°°^ ^^^f^'- Dimmes- dale? mterrupted the Governor. « Make that plain, I pray you ! " ^^ " It must be even so," resumed the minister, l^or, If we deem it otherwise, do we not there- of 7 /^u' l\^''^'''^^ ^''^''' '^' Creator of all flesh, hath lightly recognized a deed of sm and made of no account the distinction between unhallowed lust and holy love? This child of its father's guilt and its mother's shame hath come from the hand of God, to work in many ways upon her heart, who pleads so right to keep her. It was meant for a bless- ing.; for the one bJessing of her life ! It was meant, doubtless, as the mother herself hath told us, for a retribution too ; a torture to be (■ fflUxiJ 164 'fsA eSca rlef Letter felt at many an unthought-of moment ; a pang, a sting, an ever-recurring agony, in the midst of a troubled joy! Hath she not expressed this thought in the garb of the poor child, so forcibly reminding us of that red symbol which sears her bosom ? " " Well said, again ! " cried good Mr. Wilson. " I feared the woman had no better thought than to make a mountebank of her child ! " "O, not so! — not so!" continued Mr. Dimmesdale. " She recognizes, believre me, the solemn miracle which God hath wrought, in the existence of that child. And may she feel, too, — what, methinks, is the very tmth, — that this / boon was meant, above all things else, to keep the mother's soul alive, and to preserve her j from blacker depths of sir Into which Satari'^N \ might else have sought to plunge her ! There-^' fore it is good for this poor, sinful woman that she hath an infant immortality, a being capable of eternal joy or sorrow, confided to her care, to be trained up by her to righteousness, — to remind her, at every moment, of her fall, — but yet to teach her, as it were by the Creator's sacred pledge, that, if she bring the child to heaven, the child also will bring its parent thither! Herein is the sinful mother happier than the sinful father. For Hester Prynne's sake, then, and no less for the poor child's sake, etter :; a pang, the midst expressed • child, so bol which •. Wilson, ught than ned Mr. e me, the ht, in the feel, too, •that this , to keep lerve her ch Sa|an "~^ there-^^'' man that J capable r care, — ess, — to .11,— but Creator's child to s parent happier Prynne's d's sake, "^Ae Scarlet Letter 165 let us leave them as Providence hath seen fit to place them!" '— ... " You speak, my friend, with a strange earn- aThim '^'^ '^"^ ^°^'' Chillingworth, smiling " And there is a weighty import in what my young brother hath spoken," added the Rev- Hm r;;'°"- " What say you, worship- fti Master Belhngham ? Hath he not pleaded well tor the poor woman?" "Indeed hath he." answered the magistrate, and hath adduced such arguments, that we W.11 even leave the matter as it now stands ; so long, at least, as there shall be no further scan- dal m the woman. Care must be had, never- theless, to put the child to due and stated exammatjon m the catechism, at thy hands or Master D.mmesdale's. Moreover, at a proper season the fthmg-men must take heed that she go both to school and to meeting." The young minister, on ceasing to speak, had w,thdraw„ a few steps from%he gfoup and stood w„h his face partially concealed t the heavy folds of the window-curtain; while the shadow of h,s figure, which the sunlight cast upon the floor, was tremulous with the vehe- r"" °f his appeal. Pearl, that wild and %hty httle elf, stole softly towards him, and takmg h.s hand in the grasp of both her own. 166 <7sAe Scarlet Letter i< ^«ii HErill: laid her cheek against it; a caress so tender, and withal so unobtrusive, that her mother, who was looking on, asked herself, — **Is that my Pearl ? " Yet she knew that there was love in the child's heart, although it mostly revealed Itself in passion, and hardly twice_. in her lifetime had been softened by such gentleness as now. The minister, — for, save the long-sought re- gards of woman, nothing is sweeter than these marks of childish preference, accorded sponta- neously by a spiritual Instinct, and therefore seeming to Imply In us something truly worthy to be loved, — the minister looked round, laid his hand on the child's head, hesitated an in- stant, and then kissed her brow. Little Pearl's unwonted mood of sentiment lasted no longer; she laughed, and went capering down the hall, so airily, that old Mr. Wilson raised a question whether even her tiptoes touched the floor. "The little baggage hath witchcraft in her, I profess," said he to Mr. DImmesdale. " She needs no old woman's broomstick to fly withal ! " "A strange child!" remarked old Roger Chilllngworth. " It is easy to see the mother's part in her. Would It be beyond a philoso- pher's research, think ye, gentlemen, to analyze that child's natur;, and, from Its make and mould, to give a shrewd guess at the father?" etter so tender, )ther, who that my IS love in revealed jr lifetime J as now. ought re- han these 1 sponta- therefore ly worthy )und, laid d an in- le Pearl's 3 longer; the hall, question lor. in her, 2. " She to fly d Roger mother's philoso- » analyze ake and father?" "^Ae Scarlet Letter 167 /f Nay ; it would be sinful, ii. such a question to follow the clew of profane philosophy," said Mr. Wilson. " Better to fast and pray upon It; and still better, it may be, to leave the mystery as we find it, unless Providence reveal It of Its own accord. Thereby, every good Christian man hath a title to show a father's kindness towards the poor, deserted babe." The affair being so satisfactorily concluded, Hester Prynne, with Pearl, departed from the house. As they descended the steps, it is averred that the lattice of a chamber-window was thrown open, and forth into the sunny day was thrust the face of Mistress Hibbins, Gov- ernor Bellingham's bitter-tempered sister, and the same who, a few years later, was executed as a witch. " Hist, hist ! " said she, while her ill-omened physiognomy seemed to cast a shadow over the cheerful newness of the house. - Wilt thou go with us to-night? There will be a merry com- pany in the forest; and I wellnigh promised the Black Man that comely Hester Prynne should make one." " Make my excuse to him, so please; you ' " answered Hester, with a triumphant smile. « I must tarry at home, and keep watch over my little Pearl. Had they taken her from me, I would willingly have gone with thee into the 168 Tg^c Sc arlet Letter forest, and signed my name in the Black Man's book too, and that with mine own blood ! " "We shall have thee there anon!" said the witch-lady, frowning, as she drew back her head. But here — if we suppose this interview be- twixt Mistress Hibbins ^nd Hester Prynne to be authentic, and not a parable — was already an illustration of the young minister's argument against sundering the relation of a fallen mother to the offspring of her frailty. Even thus early had the child saved her from Satan's snare. f/*^^' 2ffer ck Man's d!" said the ler head, rview be- 'rynne to 3 already argument 1 mother lus early re. ^^e jL>eec^ .NDER the appellation of Roger Chillingworth, the reader will 'remember, was hidden another jname, which its former wearer ^— ^— ^^-J^ad resolved should never more be spoken. It has been related, how, in the crowd that witnessed Hester Prynne's ignomini- ous exposure, stood a man, elderly, travel-worn, who just emerging from the perilous wilderness, beheld the woman, in whom he hoped to find embodied the warmth and cheerfulness of home set up as a type of sin before the people. Her matronly fame was trodden under all men's feet Infamy was babbling around her in the public market-place. For her kindred, should the tid- ings ever reach them, and for the companions of her unspotted life, there remained nothing but the contagion of her dishonor; which would not fail to be distributed in strict accordance and proportion with the intimacy and sacredness of their previous relationship. Then why — since the choice was with himself— should the indi- vidual, whose connection with the fallen woman n ^Ht' ~\ 170 "^Ae Scarlet Letter had been the most intimate and sacred of them all, come forward to vindicate his claim to an inheritance so little desirable ? He resolved not to be pilloried beside her on her pedestal of shame. Unknown to all but Hester Prynne, and possessing the lock and key of her silence, he ;chose to withdraw his name from the roll of mankind, and, as regarded his former ties and interests, to vanish out of life as completely as if he indeed lay at the bottom of the ocean, whither rumor had long ago consigned him. This purpose once effected, new interests would immediately spring up, and likewise a new purpose ; dark, it is true, if not guilty, but of force enough to engage the fUll strength of his faculties. In pursuance of this resolve, he took up his residence in the Puritan town, as Roger Chill- ingworth, without other introduction than the learning and intelligence of which he possessed more than a common measure. As his studies, at a previous period of his life, had made him ex- tensively acquainted with the medical science of the day, it was as a physician that he presented himself, and as such was cordially received. Skil- ful men, of the medical and chirurgical profession, were of rare occurrence in the colony. They seldom, it would appear, partook of the religious zeal that brought other emigrants across the 2tfer i of them im to an alved not destal of ynne, and ilence, he i roll of ties and iletely as le ocean, led him. 5ts would a new , but of :h of his c up his er Chill- than the )ossessed ! studies, him ex- ience of resented I. Skil- afession, They religious "OSS the ^Ae Scarlet Letter m Atlantic. In their researches into the human frame, ,t may be that the higher and more subtile faculties of such men were materialized, and that they lost the spiritual view of existence amid the intricacies of that wondrous mechanism, which seemed to involve art enough to comprise all -J 'tfe within itself At all events, the health of the good town of Boston, so far as medicine had aught to do with it, had hitherto lain in the guardianship of an aged deacon and apothecary whose piety and godly deportment were stronger testimonials in his favor than any that he could have produced in the shape of a diploma. The only surgeon was one who combined the occa- sional exercise of that noble art with the daily and habitual flourish of a razor. To such a profes- sional body Roger Chillingworth was a brilliant acquisition. He soon manifested his familiarity with the ponderous and imposing machinery of antique physic ; in which every remedy contained a multitude of far-fetched and heterogeneous in- gredients, as elaborately compounded as if the proposed result had been the Elixir of Life. In his Indian captivity, moreover, he had gained much knowledge of the properties of native herbs and roots ; nor did he conceal from his patients, that these simple medicines. Nature's boon to the untutored savage, had quite as large a share of his own confidence as the European 172 "^A eSca rlef Letter JititX pharmacopceia, which so many learned doctors had spent centuries in elaborating. This learned stranger was exemplary, as re- garded, at least, the outward forms of a religious life, and, early after his arrival, had chosen for his spiritual guide the Reverend Mr. Dimmes- dale. The young divine, whose scholar-like renown still lived in Oxford, was considered by his more fervent admirers as little less than a heaven-ordained apostle, destined, should he live and labor for the ordinary term of life, to do as great deeds for the now feeble New England Church, as the early Fathers had achieved for the infancy of the Christian faith. About this period, however, the health of Mr. Dimmesdale had evidently begun to fail. By those best acquainted with his habits, the paleness x>f the young minister's cheek was accounted for by his too earnest devotion to study, his scrupulous fulfilment of parochial duty, and, more than all, by the fasts and vigils of which he made a fre- quent practice, in order to keep the grossness of this earthly state from clogging and obscuring his spiritual lamp. Some declared, that, if Mr. Dimmesdale were really going to die, it was cause enough, that the world was not worthy to be any longer trodden by hre feet. He himself, on the other hand, with characteristic humility, avowed his belief, that, if Providence should see "^/ie Scarlet Letter 173 fit to remove him, it would be bee se of his own unworthiness to perform its hu«. ,st mis- sion here on earth. With all this difference of opinion as to the cause of his decline, there could be no question of the fact. His forni grew emaciated ; his voice, though still rich and sweet, had a certain melancholy prophecy of de- cay in It ; he was often observed, on any slight alarm or other sudden accident, to put his hand over his heart, with first a flush and th^n a pale- ness, indicative of pain. ..-- ' Such was the young clergyman's condition, and so imminent the prospect that his dawning light wou d be extinguished, all untimely, when Roger Chillingworth made his advent to the town His first entry on the scene, few people could tell whence, dropping down, as it were, out of the sky, or starting from the nether earth, had an as- pect of mystery, which was easily heightened to the miraculous. He was now known to be a man of skill ; it was observed that he gathered herbs, and the blossoms of wild-flowers, and dug up roots, and plucked off twigs from the forest- trees like one acquainted with hidden virtues in what was valueless to common eyes. He was heard to speak of Sir Kenelm Digby, and other famous men, —whose scientific attainments were esteemed hardly less than supernatural,— as hav- ing been his correspondents or associates. Why, \ ing ^•v- 174 ''IS A c Scarlet Letter with such rank in the learned world, had he come hither ? What could he, whose sphere was in great cities, be seeking in :he wilderness? In answer to this query, a rumor gained ground, — and, however absurd, was entertained by some very sensible people, — that Heaven had wrought an absolute miracle, by transporting an eminent Doctor of Physic, from a German university, bodily through the air, and setting him down at the door of Mr. Dimmesdale's study ! Individ- uals of wiser faith, indeed, who knew that Heaven promotes its purposes without aiming at the stage-effect of what is called miraculous inter- position, were inclined to see a providential hand in Roger Chillingworth's so opportune arrival. This idea was countenanced by the strong iniiimut which the physician ever manifested in the young clergyman ; he attached himself to him as a parishioner, and sought to win a friendly regard and confidence from his naturally reserved sensibility. He expressed great alarm at his pastor's state of health, but was anxious to at- tempt the cure, and, if early undertaken, seemed not despondent of a favorable result. The elders, the deacons, the motherly dames, and the young and fair maidens, of Mr. Dimmesdale's flock, were alike importunate that he should make trial of the physician's frankly offered skill. Mr. Dimmesdale gently repelled their entreaties. (> ^Ae Scarlet Letter 175 '\^ " 1 need no medicine," said he. But how could the young minister say so, when, with every successive Sabbath, his cheek was paler and thinner, and his voice more trem- ulous than before, -when it had now become a constant habit, rather than a casu-' rgsture to press his hand over his heart? he wearv of his labors ? Did he wish to die ? These questions were solemnly propounded to Mr Dimmesdale by the elder ministers of Boston and the deacons of his church, who, to use their own phrase, « dealt with him " on the sin of rejecting the aid which Providence so manifestly held out. He listened in silence, and finally promised to confer with the physician ; Were it God's will," said the Reverend Mr Dimmesdale, when, in fulfilment of this pledge he requested old Roger Chillingworth's professional advice, « I could be well content, that my labors and rny sorrows, and my sins, and my pains,' should shortly end with me, and what is earthly of them be buried in my grave, and the spiritual go with me to my eternal state, rather than that you should put your skill to the proof in my behalf" " Ah," replied Roger Chillingworth, with that quietness .vhich, whether imposed or natural marked all his deportment, « it is thus that 1 young clergyman is apt to speak. Youthful men, not having taken a deep root, give up their \ \ ax J. ■ • ^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 4r 1.0 I.I ^1^ 1^ " IM 12.2 US u IIP IL25 II 1.4 2.0 1.6 Piiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (7)6) 872-4503 €3 -V^ \\ ^ ^^ '^'t*' <|^^^' \e likely to r Chilling- id friendly s patient's )rying into ing with a in a dark vestigator, undertake A man ally avoid the latter ess some- if he show prominent the power, [ his mind ^Ae Scarlet Letter m into such affinity with his patient's, that this last shall unawares have spoken what he imagines hmiself only to have thought; if such revelations be received without tumult, and acknowledged not so often by an uttered sympathy as by si- lence, an inarticulate breath, and nere and there a word, to mdicate that all is understood ; if to these qualifications of a confidant be joined the advantages afforded by his recognized character as a physician; —then, at some inevitable mo- ment, will the soul of the sufferer be dissolved, and flow forth in a dark, but transparent stream, -^bringing all its mysteries into the daylight Roger Chillingworth possessed all, or most, of the attributes above enumerated. Neverthe- less, time went on ; a kind of intimacy, as we have said, grew up between these two cultivated minds, which had as wide a field as the whole sphere of human thought and study, to meet upon ; they discussed every topic of ethics and religion, of public affairs and private character- they talked much, on both sides, of matters that seemed personal to themselves; and yet no secret, such as the physician fancied must exist there ever stole out of the minister's consciousness intJ his companion's ear. The latter had his suspi- cions, indeed, that even the nature of Mr. Dim- mesdale's bodily disease had never fairly been revealed to him. It was a strange reserve 1 i8o "nshe Scarlet Letter ^ After a time, at a hint from Roger Chilling- worth, the friends of Mr. Dimmesdale effected an arrangement by which the two were lodged in the same house ; so that every ebb and flf" • of the minister's life-tide might pass under the eye of his anxious and attached physician. There was much joy throughout the town, when this greatly desirable object was attained. It was held to be the best possible measure for the young clergyman's welfare ; unless, indeed, as often urged by such as felt authorized to do so, he had selected some one of the many blooming damsels, spiritually devoted to him, to become his devoted wife. This latter step, however, there was no present prospect that Arthur Dim- mesdale would be prevailed upon to take; he rejected all suggestions of the kind, as if priestly celibacy were one of his articles of church-disci- pline. Doomed by his own choice, therefore, as Mr. Dimmesdale so evidently was, to eat his unsavory morsel always at another's board, and endure the life-long chill which must be his lot who seeks to warm himself only at another's fireside, it truly seemed that this sagacious, ex- perienced, benevolent old physician, with his concord of paternal and reverential love for the young pastor, was the very man, of all mankind, to be constantly within reach of his voice. The new abode of the two friends was with a J I; "^Ae Scarlet Letter isi pious widow, of good social rank, who dwelt in a house covering pretty nearly the site on which the venerable structure of King's Chapel has since been built. It had the graveyard, origi- nally Isaac Johnson's home-field, on one side, and so was well adapted to call up serious reflec- tions, suited to their respective employments, in both minister and man of physic. The motherly care of the good widow assigned to Mr. Dimmes- dale a front apartment, with a sunny exposure, and heavy window-curtains, to create a noontide shadow, when desirable. The walls were hung round with tapestry, said to be from the Gobelin I looms, and, at all events, representing the Scrip- / tural story of David and Bathsheba, and Nathan the Prophet, in colors still unfaded, but which made the fair woman of the scene almost as grimly picturesque as the woe-denouncing seer. Here, the pale clergyman piled up his library, rich with parchment-bound folios of the Fathers, and the lore of Rabbis, and monkish erudition,' of which the Protestant divines, even while they vilified and decried that class of writers, were yet constrained often to avail themselves. On the other side of the house, old Roger Chillingworth arranged his study and laboratory ; not such as a modern man of science would reckon even tol- erably complete, but provided with a distilling apparatus, and the means of compounding drugs jf0* .r I i i8a "WAe Scarlet Letter and chemicals, which the practised alchemist knew well how to turn to purpose. With such commodiousness of situation, these two learned persons sat themselves down, each in his own domain, yet familiarly passing from one apart- ment to the other, and bestowing a mutual and not incurious inspection into one another's business. And the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale's best discerning friends, as we have intimated, very reasonably imagined that the hand of Providence had done all this, for the purpose — besought in so many public, and domestic, and secret prayers — of restoring the young minister to health. But — it must now be said — another portion of the community had latterly begun to take its own view of the relation betwixt Mr. Dimmes- dale and the mysterious old physician. When an uninstructed multitude attempts to see with its eyes, it is exceedingly apt to be deceived. When, however, it forms its judgment, as it usually does, on the intuitions of its great and warm heart, the conclusions thus attained are often so profound and so unerring, as to possess the character of truths supernaturally revealed. The people, in the case of which we speak, could justify its prejudice against Roger Chillingworth by no fact or argument worthy of serious refuta- tion. There was an aged handicraftsman, it is "g^c Scarlet Let ter 183 true, who had been a citizen of London at the period of Sir Thomas Overbury's murder, now some thirty years agone ; he testified to having seen the physician, under some other name, which the narrator of the story had now forgotten' in company with Doctor Forman, the famous old conjurer, who was implicated in the affair of Overbury. Two or three individuals hinted, that the man of skill, during his Indian cap- tivity, had enlarged his medical attainments by joining in the incantations of the savage priests • who were universally acknowledged to be power- ful enchanters, often performing seemingly mi- raculous cures by their skill in the black art. A large number— and many of these were persons of such sober sense and practical observation that their opinions would have been valuable, in other matters — affirmed that Roger Chillingworth's aspect had undergone a remarkable change while he had dwelt in town, and especiallv .vice his abode with Mr. Dimmesdale. At first, his ex- pression had been calm, meditative, scholar-like. Now, there was something ugly and evil in his face, which they had not previously noticed, and which grew still the more obvious to sight' the oftener they looked upon him. According to the vulgar idea, the fire in his laboratory had been brought from the lower regions, and was fed with infernal fuel; and so, as might be r" '84 '^Ae Scarlet Letter |ff^ expected, his visage was getting sooty with the smoke. To sum up the matter, it grew to be a widely diffused opinion, that the Reverend Arthur Dim- mesdale, like many other personages of espe- I cial sanctity, in all ages of the Christian world, was haunted either by Satan himself, or Satan's emissary, in the guise of old Roger Chillingworth. This diabolical agent had the Divine permission, for a season, to burrow into the clergyman's intimacy, and plot against his soul. No sensible man, it was confessed, could doubt on which side the victory would turn. The people looked, with an unshaken hope, to see the minister come forth out of the conflict, transfigured with the glory which he would unquestionably win. Meanwhile, nevertheless, it was sad to think of the perchance mortal agony through which he must struggle towards his triumph. Alas ! to judge from the gloom and terror in the depths of the poor minister's eyes, the battle was a sore one and the victory anything but secure. I ■I 1 jLD Roger Chillingworth, through- fout life, had been calm in tempera- fment, kindly, though not of warm raffections, but ever, and in all his ^ freiations with the world, a pure and upright man. He had begun an investiga- tion, as he imagined, with the severe and equal integrity of a judge, desirous only of truth, even as If the question involved no more than the air-drawn lines and figures of a geometrical prob- lem, instead of human passions, and wrongs inflicted on himself. But, as he proceeded, a terrible fascination, a kind of fierce, though still calm, necessity seized the old man within its gripe, and never set him free again, until he had done all its . dding. He now dug into the poor clergyman's heart, like a miner searching for ' gold ; or, rather, like a sexton delving into a grave possibly in quest of a jewel that had been buried on the dead man's bosom, but likely to find nothing save mortality and corruption. Alas for his own soul, if these were what he sought ! 186 '^Ae Scarlet Letter y Sometimes, a light glimmered out of the phy- sician's eyes, burning blue and ominous, like the reflection of a furnace, or, let us say, like one of those gleams of ghastly fire that darted from Bunyan's awful doorway in the hillside, and quivered on the pilgrim's face. The soil where this dark miner was working had perchance shown indications that encouraged him. " This man," said he, at one such moment, to himself, "pure as they deem him, — all spiritual as he seems, — hath inherited a strong animal nature from his father or his mother. Let us dig a little further in the direction of this vein ! " Then, after long search into the minister's dim interior, and turning over many precious materials, in the shape of high aspirations for the welfare of his race, warm love of souls, pure sen- timents, natural piety, strengthened by thought and study, and illuminated by revelation, all of which invaluable gold was perhaps no better than rubbish to the seeker, — he would turn back, discouraged, and begin his quest towards another point. He groped along as stealthily, with as cautious a tread, and as wary an outlook, as a thief entering a chamber where a man lies only half asleep,— or, it may be, broad awake, — - with purpose to steal the very treasure which this man guards as the apple of his eye. In spite ministers ^/ie Scarlet Letter 187 of his premeditated carefulness, the floor would now and then creak ; his garments would rustle • the shadow of his presence, in a forbidden prox- imity, would be thrown across his victim In other words, Mr. Dimmesdale, whose sensibility of nerve often produced the effect of spiritual intuition, would become vaguely aware that something inimical to his peace had thrust it- self into relation with him. But old Roger ChiUingworth, too, had perceptions that were almost intuitive; and when the minister threw his startled eyes towards him, there the physician sat; his kind, watchful, sympathizing, but never mtrusive friend. Yet Mr. Dimmesdale would perhaps have seen this individual's character more perfectly, if a certain morbidness, to wh.h sick hearts are liable, had not rendered him suspicious of all mankind. Trusting no man as his friend, he could not recognize his enemy when the latter actually appeared. He therefore still kept up a familiar intercourse with him, daily receiving the old physician in his study ; or visiting the laboratory, and, for recreation's sake, watching the processes by which weeds were converted into drugs of potency. One day, leaning his forehead on his hand, and his elbow on the sill of the open window that looked towards the graveyard, he talked 188 "iSAe Scarlet Letter /* with Roger ChilHngworth, while the old man was examining a bundle of unsightly plants. "Where," asked he, with a look askance at them, — for it was the clergyman's peculiarity that he seldom, nowadays, looked straightforth at any object, whether human or inanimate, — "where, my kind doctor, did you gather those herbs, with such a dark, flabby leaf?" "Even in the graveyard here at hand," an- swered the physician, continuing his employment. " They are new to me. I found them growing on a grave, which bore no tombstone, nor other memorial of the dead man, save these ugly weeds, that have taken upon themselves to keep him in remembrance. They grew out of his heart, and typify, it may be, some hideous secret that was buried with him, and which he had done better to confess during his lifetime." "Perchance," said Mr. Dimmesdale, "he earnestly desired it, but could not." " And wherefore ? " rejoined the physician. " Wherefore not ; since all the powers of nature call so earnestly for the confession of sin, that these black weeds have sprung up out of a buried heart, to make manifest an unspoken crime ? " " That, good Sir, is but a fantasy of yours," replied the minister. " There can be, if I fore- bode aright, no power, short of the Divine "S/ie Scarlet Letter 189 mercy, to disclose, whether by uttered words, or by type or emblem, the secrets that may be buried with a human heart. The heart, making itself guilty of such secrets, must perforce hold them, until the day when all hidden things shall be revealed. Nor have I so read or interpreted Holy Writ, as to understand that the disclosure of human thoughts and deeds, then to be made, I is intended as a ^art of the retribution. That, ' surely, were a t,. .Jow view of it. No ; these revelations, unless I greatly err, are meant merely to promote the intellectual satisfaction of all in- telligent beings, who will stand waiting, on that day, to see the dark problem of this life made plain. A knowledge of men's hearts will be needful to the completest solution of that prob- lem. And I conceive, moreover, that the hearts holding such miserable --crets as you speak of will yield them up, at that last day, not with reluctance, but with a joy unutterable." "Then why not reveal them here?" asked Roger Chillingworth, glancing quietly aside at the minister. "Why should not the guilty ones sooner avail themselves of this unutterable solace ? " " They mostly do," said the clergyman, grip- ing hard at his breast as if afflicted with an im-.^. portunate throb of pain. " Many, many a poor soul hath given its confidence to me, not onlv on 190 "^he Scarlet Letter ^M^ the death-bed, but while strong in life, and fair in reputation. And ever, after such an out- pouring, O, what a relief have I witnessed in those sinful brethren ! even as in one who at last draws free air, after long stifling with his own polluted breath. How can it be otherwise? Why should a wretched man, guilty, we will say, of murder, prefer to keep the dead corpse buried in his own heart, rather than fling it forth at once, and let the universe take care of it ! " "Yet some men bury their secrets thus," observed the calm physician. "True; there are such men," answered Mr. Dimmesdale. " But, not to suggest more ob- vious reasons, it may be that they are kept silent by the very constitution of their nature. Or, '■ can we not suppose it .? — guilty as they may be, retaining, nevertheless, a zeal for God's glory and man's welfare, they shrink from displaying them- selves black and filthy in the view of men ; because, thenceforward, no good can be achieved by them ; no evil of the past be redeemed by better service. So, to their own unutterable torment, they go about among their fellow- creatures, looking pure as new-fallen snow while their hearts are all speckled and spotted with iniquity of ^hkh they cannot rid themselves." " These men deceive themselves," said Roger Chillingworth, with somewhat more emphasis Letter life, and fair ach an out- witnessed in ; who at last ith his own otherwise ? we will say, arpse buried it forth at : of it ! " :rets thus," swered Mr. t more ob- : kept silent re. Or, '■ — ley may be, s glory and lying them- V of men ; 3e achieved deemed by unutterable eir fellow- snow while •otted with selves." said Roger emphasis ^Ae Scarlet Letter 191 than usual, and making a slight gesture with his forefinger " They fear to take up the shame that rightfully belongs to them. Their love for man, their zeal for God's service, ~ these holv impulses may or may not coexist in their hearts with the evil inmates to which their guilt has unbarred the door, and which must needs propa- gate a hellish breed within them. But, if thev seek to glorify God, let them not lift heavenward their unclean hands ! If they would serve their fellow-men, let them do it by making manifest the power and reality of conscience, in constrain- mg them to penitential self-abasement ! Wouldst thou have me to believe, O wise and pious triend, that a false show can be better — can be more for God's glory, or man's welfare - than God s own truth ? Trust me, such men deceive themselves ! " "It may be so," said the young clergvman, indifferently, as waiving a discussion that he considered irrelevant or unseasonable. He had a ready faculty, indeed, of escaping from any topic that agitated his too sensitive and nervous temperament. -"But, now, I would ask of my well-skilled physician, whether, in good sooth, he deems me to have profited by his kindly care of this weak frame of mine ? " Before Roger Chillingworth could answer, they heard the clear, wild laughter of a young <^ /* 19a "^he Scarlet Letter child's voice, proceeding from the adjacent burial-ground. Looking instinctively from the open window, — for it was summer-time, — the minister beheld Hester Prynne and little Pearl passing along the footpath that traversed the enclosure. Pearl looked as beautiful as the day, but was in one of those moods of per- verse merriment which, whenever they occurred, seemed to remove her entirely out of the sphere of sympathy or human contact. She now skipped irreverently from one grave to another ; until, coming to the broad, flat, armorial tomb- stone of a departed worthy,— perhaps of Isaac Johnson himself, —she began to dance upon it. In reply to her mother's command and en- treaty that she would behave more decorously, little Pearl paused to gather the prickly burrs from a tall burdock which grew beside the tomb. Taking a handful of these, she arranged them along the lines of the scarlet letter that decorated the maternal bosom, to which the burrs, as their nature was, tenaciously adhered. Hester did not pluck them off. Roger Chillingworth had by this time ap- proached the window, and smiled grimly down. " There is no law, nor reverence for authority, no regard for human ordinances or opinions,' right or wrong, mixed up with that child's com- position," remarked he, as much to himself as to Letter :he adjacent ly from the •-time, — the . little Pearl raversed the :iflil as the ods of per- ey occurred, f the sphere She now to another; lorial tomb- ips of Isaac dance upon nd and en- decorously, ickly burrs e the tomb, mged them It decorated rrs, as their 3ter did not 5 time ap- mly down. r authority, ■ opinions, lild's com- mself as to "^Ae Scarlet Letter 19 3 his companion. « I saw her, the other day, be- spatter the Governor himself with water, at the cattle-trough in Spring Lane. What, in Heaven's name, s she? Is the imp altogether evil ? Hath she affections ? Hath she any discoverable prin- ciple of being? " ^ « None,— save the freedom of a broken law " answered Mr. Dimmesdale, in a quiet way, as ir « wu''!" ^'^^"^^'"g '^^ point within him- L ^^'''"■ ''P'^'^ °^g°°d, I know not." Ihe child probably overheard their voices- for, lookmg up to the window, with a bright' but naughty smile of mirth and intelligence,' she threw one of the prickly burrs at the Rev- erend Mr. Dimmesdale. The sensitive clergy- man shrunk, with nervous dread, from the light missile. Detecting his emotion. Pearl clapped h^r httle hands, in the most extravagant ec- stasy.- Hester Prynne, likewise, had involun- tarily foofced up; and all these four persons, old and young, regarded one another in silence, till the child laughed aloud, and shouted, -I « Come away, ^mother! Come away, or yonder old Bkek Man will catch you ! He hath got hold of the minister already. Come away, mother, or he will catch you! But he cannot catch little Pearl!" So she drew her mother away, skipping, danc- ing, and frisking fantastically, among the hillocks 13 , .:. 194 ISA e Scarlet Let ter of the dead people, like a creature that had nothing in common with a bygone and buried generation, nor owned herself akin to it. It was as if she had been made afresh, out of new elements, and must perforce be permitted to live her own life, and be a law unto herself, without her eccentricities being reckoned to her for a crime. " There goes a woman," resumed Roger Chil- lingworth, after a pause, « who, be her demerits what they may, hath none of that mystery of hidden sinfulness which you deem so grievous to be borne. Is Hester Prynne the less miser- able, think you, for that scarlet letter on her breast ? " " I do verily believe it," answered the clergy- /man. "Nevertheless, I cannot answer for her. i There was a look of pain in her face, which I I would gladly have been spared the sight of. \ k " ^"' ^^*'^' methinks, it must needs be better for v^the sufferer to be free to show his pain, as this ^ poor woman Hester is, than to cover it all up '■^^iii his heart." There was another pause ; and the physician began anew to examine and arrange the plants which he had gathered. " You inquired of me, a little time agone," said he, at length, « my judgment as touching your health." '^Ae Scarlet Letter r^ .bHl' 1^" '"'"'""' '^' '^krgyman, « and would gladly learn ,t. Speak frankly, I p„y vou, be ■t for life or death." " P'-«'y> *^n. and plainly," said the physi- aan st,ll busy with his plants, but keeping a wary eye on Mr. Dimmesdale, " the disorder ■3 a strange one ; not so much in itself, „or as outwardly manifested, - in so far, at least as the symptoms have been laid open to my' observafon. Looking daily at you, my good S.r, and watchmg the tokens of your aspect. now for months gone by, I should deem you a man sore s,ck, it may be, yet not so sick m.gl't well hope to cure you. But_I know not what to say -the disease is what I seem to know, yet know it not." " You speak in riddles, learned Sir," said the pale mm.ster, glancing aside out of the window. Then, to speak more plainly," continued the physician, "and I crave pardon. Sir, - should ,t seem to require pardon, -for this needful plamness of my speech. Let me ask -as your friend, -as one having charge under Prov.dence, of your life and physifai well-being hath ail the operation of' th ' disorder _ been fairly laid open and recounted "How can you question it?" asked the ^ ^ y ^ ftc Scarlet Letter minister. " Surely, it were child's play, to call in a physician, and then hide the sore ! " *• You would tell me, then, that I know all ? " said Roger Chillingworth, deliberately, and fix- ing an eye, bright with intense and concentrated intelligence, on the minister's face. " Be it so ! But, again ! He to whom only the outward | and physical evil is laid open, knoweth, often- | times, but half the evil which he is called upon '; to cure. A bodily disease, which we look upon ^ as whole and entire within itself, may, after all, be but a symptom of some ailment in the spir- itual part. Your pardon, once again, good Sir, if my speech give the shadow of offence. You, Sir, of all men whom I have known, are he whose body is the closest conjoined, and imbued, and identified, so to speak, with the spirit whereof it is the instrument." "Then I need ask no further," said the cler- gyman, somewhat hastily rising from his chair. " You deal not, I take it, in medicine for the soul ! " "Thus, a sickness," continued Roger Chil- lingworth, going on, in an unaltered tone, with- out heeding the interruption, — but standing up, and confronting the emaciated and white- cheeked minister, with his low. dark, and mis- shapen figure, — "a sickness, a sore place, if | we may so call it, in your spirit, hath imme- p| ^^e Scarlet Letter 197 diately its appropriate manifestation in your bod.ly frame. Would you, therefore, that your physician heal the bodily evil? How may' this be, unless you first lay open to him the wound or trouble in your soul ? " "No .'--not to thee! -not to an earthly physician ! cried Mr. Dimmesdale, passionately, and turning his eyes, full and bright, and with a kind of fierceness, on old Roger Chillingworth. Not to thee ! But, if it be the soul's disease, then do I commit myself to the one Physician of the soul ! He, if it stand with his good plea- sure, can cure ; or he can kill I Let him do with me as, m his justice and wisdom, he shall see good. But who art thou, that meddlest in this matter.?- that dares thrust himself between the sufferer and his God .? " With a frantic gesture he rushed out of the room. R " ^'rl-n- ""'" '° ^""^^ "^^^^ '^'' «^^P'" said Roger Chilhngworth to himself, looking after the minister with a grave smile. « There is nothing lost. We shall be friends again anon. But see now, how passion takes hold upon this man, and hurneth him out of himself! As with one pas- sion, so with another ! He hath done a wild thing ere now, this pious Master Dimmesdale, in the hot passion of his heart ! " It proved not difficult to re-establish the inti- J »98 "tSAe Scarlet Letter macy of the two companions, on the same foot- ing and in the same degree as heretofore. The young clergyman, after a few hours of privacy, was sensible that the disorder of his nerves had hurried him into an unseemly outbreak of tem- per, which there had been nothing in the physi- cian's words to excuse or palliate. He marvelled, indeed, at the violence with which he had thrust back the kind old man, when merely proffering the advice which it was his duty to bestow, and which the minister himself had expressly sought. With these remorseful feelings, he lost no time in making the amplest apologies, and besought his friend still to continue the care, which, if not successful in restoring him to health, had, in all probability, been the means of prolonging his feeble existence to that hour. Roger Chil- lingworth readily assented, and went on with his medical supervision of the minister ; doing his best for hixii, in all good faith, but always quit- ting the patient's apartment, at the close of a professional interview, with a mysterious and puzzled smile upon his lips. This expression was invisible in Mr. Dimmesdale's presence, but grew strongly evident as the physician crossed the threshold. " A rare case ! " he muttered. " I must needs look deeper into it. A strange sym- pathy betwixt soul and body ! Were it only '^Ae Scarlet Letter this matter to for the art's sake, 1 must search the bottom ! " It came to pass, not long after the scene above recorded, that the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale at noonday, and entirely unawares, fell into a deep deep slumber, sitting in his chair, with a large black-letter volume open before him on the table. It must have been a work of vast ability in the somniferous school of literature. The profound depth of the minister's repose was the more remarkable, inasmuch as he was one of those persons whose sleep, ordinarily, is as light, as fitful, and as easily scared away, as a small bird hopping on a twig. To such an unwonted re- moteness, however, had his spirit now withdrawn into itself, that he stirred not in his chair, when old Roger Chillingworth, without any extraordi- nary precaution, came into the room. The phy- sician advanced directly in front of his patient, laid his hand upon his bosom, and thrust aside the vestment, that, hitherto, had always covered It even from the professional eye. Then, indeed, Mr. Dimmesdale shuddered, and shghdy stirred. After a brief pause, the physician turned away. But, with what a wild look of wonder, joy, and horror! With what a ghastly rapture, as it were, too mighty to be expressed only by the eye and features, and therefore bursting forth through the '~) / r \ ^0° "^Ae Scarlet Le tter whole ugliness of his figure, and making itself even riotously manifest by the extravagant ges- tures with which he threw up his arms towards the ceihng, and stamped his foot upon the floor ' Had a man seen old Roger Chillingworth, ai that moment of his ecstasy, he would h;iv- had no need to ask how Satan comports himself, when a precious human soul is lost to heaven and won into his kingdom. * But what distinguished the physician's ecstasy fro.-n Satan's was the trait of wonder in it ! ^Bdjnierior of a ^eart ,IFTER the incident last described, pthe intercourse between thj clergy- man and the physician, liough jexternally the same, was naliy of ^^^.^^ another character than it ha.l nre- vously been. The intellect of Roger Ch, xZ- worth had now a sufficiently plain path before ft. it was no , mdeed, precisely that which he had aid less as he appeared, there was yet, we fear, a qu:et depth of „,,,„, |,i,he„o latent, but actiie l,v .'" "!'' ""fortunate old man, which led him to .mag,ne a more intimate revenge than any mor Ul had ever wreaked upon an enemy. To make himself the one trusted friend, to whom shouU be confided all the fear, the remorse, the agony, the neffectual repentance, the backward rusi, of s n- ful thoughts, expelled in vain 1 All that guilty sorrow, hiaden from the world, whose great hrt t? Wm tr T^ '"' '""S'™"' '" '' -sealed Ailth;. I "''''' '" ''™' "•' Unforgiving! All that dark treasure to be lavished on the vet man, to whom nothing else could so adequate^ pay the debt of vengeance ! ^ ^ 202 ^/ie Scarlet Letter ^ \ The clergyman's shy and sensitive reserve had ^ balked this scheme. Roger Chillingworth, how- ever, was inclined to be hardly, if at all, less satisfied with the aspect of affairs, which Provi- dence — using the avenger and his victim for its own purposes, and, perchance, pardoning where it seemed most ^^ punish — had substituted for his black devices. A revelation, he could almost say, had been granted to him. It mattered litde, for his object, whether celestial, or from what other region. By its aid, in all the subsequent relations betwixt him and Mr. Dimmesdale, not merely the external presence, but the very inmost soul, of the latter, seemed to be brought out before his eyes, so that he could see and com- prehend its every movement. He became, thenceforth, not a spectator only, but a chief actor, in the poor minister's interior world. He could play upon him as he chose. Would he arouse him with a throb of agony ? The victim was forever on the rack ; it needed only to know the spring that controlled the engine ; — and the physician knew it well ! Would he startle him with sudden fear ? As at the waving of a magi- cian's wand, uprose a grisly phantom, — uprose a thousand phantoms, — in many shapes, of death, or more awful shame, all flocking round about the clergyman, and pointing with their fingers at his breast! Letter 'e reserve had igworth, how- if at all, less which Provi- victim for its doning where ubstituted for could almost lattered little, r from what e subsequent imesdale, not e very inmost brought out lee and corn- He became, but a chief world. He Would he The victim )nly to know I ; — and the e startle him g of a magi- m, — uprose shapes, of eking round [ with their ^^e Scarlet Letter 203 All this was accomplished with a subtlety so perfect, that the minister, though he had con- stantly a dim perception of some evil influence watchmg over him, could never gain a knowledge of Its actual nature. True, he looked doubtfully, tearfully,— even, at times, with horror and the bitterness of hatred, -at the deformed figure of the old physician. His gesture, his gait, his grizzled beard, his slightest and most indifferent acts, the very fashion of his garments, were odious in the clergyman's sight; a token implicitly to be relied on, of a deeper antipathy in the breast of the latter than he was willing to acknowledge to himself For, as it was impossible to assign a reason for such distrust and abhorrence, so Mr L>immesdale, conscious that the poison of one morbid spot was infecting his heart's entire substance, attributed all his presentiments to no other cause. He took himself to task for his bad sympathies in reference to Roger Chilling- worth, disregarded the lesson that he should have drawn from them, and did his best to root them out. Unable to accomplish this, he neverthe- less, as a matter of principle, continued his habits of social familiarity with the old man, and thus gave him constant opportunities for perfecting the purpose to which -poor, forlorn creature that he was, and more wretched than his victim - — the avenger had devoted himself. 204 "IS/ie Scarlet Letter ^ While thus suffering under bodily disease, and gnawed and tortured by some black trouble , of the soul, and given over to the machinations of his deadliest enemy, the Reverend Mr. Dim- mesdale had achieved a brilliant popularity in his sacred office. He won it, indeed, in great part, by his sorrows. His intellectual gifts, his moral perceptions, his power of experiencing and communicating emotion, were kept in r «tate of preternatural activity by the prick and anguish of his daily life. His fame, though still on its upward slope, already overshadowed the soberer reputations of his fellow-clergymen, eminent as several of them were. There were scholars among them, who had spent more years in ac- quiring abstruse lore, connected with the divine profession, than Mr. Dimmesdale had lived; and who might well, therefore, be more profoundly versed in such solid and valuable attainments than their youthful brother. There were men, too, of a sturdier texture of mind than his, and endowed with a far greater share of shrewd, hard, iron, or granite understanding; which, duly min- gled with a fair proportion of doctrinal ingre- dient, constitutes a highly respectable, efficacious, and unamiable variety of the clerical species. There were others, again, true saintly fathers, whose faculties had been elaborated by weary toil among their books, and by patient thought. '^Ae Scarlet Letter 205 and ethereal.zed, moreover, by spiritual commu- n.cat:ons^w,th the better world, into which their punty oi life had almost introduced these holy personages, with their garments of mortality still clmg,ng to them. All that they lacked was the gift that descended upon the chosen disciples at lentecost, m tongues of flame; symbolizing. It would seem, not the power of speech in fof- e.gn and unknown languages, but that of address- ing the whole human brotherhood in the heart's native language. These fathers, otherwise so apostohc lacked Heaven's last and rarest attesta- tion of their office, the Tongue of Flame. They would have vainly sought - had thev ever dreamed of seeking - to express the highest truths through the humblest medium of familiar words and images. Their voices came down, afar and mdistinctly, from the upper heights where they habitually dwelt. ^ Not improbably, it was to this latter class of men that Mr. Dimmesdale, by many of his traits of character, naturally belonged. To the high mountain-peaks of faith aud sanctity he would have chmbed, had not the tendency been thwarted by the burden, whatever it might be, of crime or anguish, beneath which it was his doom to tot.er. It kept him down, on a level with the lowest • him, the man of ethereal attributes, whose voice' the angels might else have listened to and an- \ ao6 ^^ e Sea rlef Letter swered ! But this very burden it was, that gave him sympathies so intimate with the sinful brotherhood of mankind ; so that his heart vi- brated in unison with theirs, and received their pain into itself, and sent its own throb of pain through a thousand other hearts, in gushes of sad, persuasive eloquence. Oftenest persuasive, but sometimes terrible ! The people knew not the power that moved them thus. They deemed the young clergyman a miracle of holiness. They fancied him the mouthpiece of Heaven's messages of wisdom, and rebuke, and love. In /-their eyes, the very ground on which he trod was sanctified. The virgins of his chuich grew pale around him, victims of a passion so imbued with religious sentiment that they imagined it to be all religion, and brought it openly, in their white bosoms, as their most acceptable sacrifice before the altar. The aged members of his flock, be- holding Mr. Dimmesdale's frame so feeble, while they were themselves so rugged in their infirmity, believed that he would go heavenward before them, and enjoined it upon their children, that their old bones should be buried close to their young pastor's holy grave. And, all this time, perchance, when poor Mr. Dimmesdale was thinking of his grave, he questioned with himself whether the grass would ever grow on it, because an accursed thing must there be buried ! 4' Lett er was, that gave h the sinful his heart vi- received their throb of pain in gushes of St persuasive, pie knew not They deemed of holiness. of Heaven's nd love. In K he trod was ch grew pale imbued with ned it to be in their white crifice before lis flock, be- feeble, while -eir infirmity, iward before hildren, that lose to their .11 this time, nesdale was vith himself n it, because id! "^Ae Scarlet Letter IS inconceivabl public veneration tortured agony with which this ^Jm ! It was his genuine impulse to adore the truth, and to reckon aJl things shadow-like, and utterly devoid of weight or value, that had not its divine essence oo <■», IT • 1 • . . 'Jiviiic essence as the life within their life. Then, what was he ? -a substance? -or the dimmest of all shad- ows ? He longed to speak out, from his own pulp.t, at the full height of his voice, and tell the people what he was. "I, whom you behold in these black garments of the priesfhoc^d - I who ascend the sacred desk, and turn m^ pale face heavenward, taking upon myself to hold communion, in your behalf, with the Most High Ommscience-I, in whose daily life you discern the sanctity of Enoch, -I, whose foot- steps as you suppose, leave a gleam along my earthly track, whereby the pilgrims that shall come after me may be guided to the regions of the blest, - I, who have laid the hand of bap- tism upon your children, -I, who have breathed the parting prayer over your dying friends, to whom the Amen sounded faintly from a world which they had quitted, ^ I, your pastor, whom y^ -.r-frence and trust, am utterly a pollution | More than once, Mr. Dimmesdale had gone into the pulpit, with a purpose never to come down Its steps, until he should have spoken "jtV '.-..-X f* 208 "^he Scarlet Letter words like the above. More than once, he had cleared his throat, and drawn in the long, deep, and tremulous breath, which, when sent forth again, would come burdened with the black secret of his soul. More than once — nay, more than a hundred times — he had actually spoken ! Spoken! But how? He had told his hearers that he was altogether vile, a viler companion of the vilest, the worst of sinners, an abomina- tion, a thing of unimaginable iniquity ; and that the only wonder was, that they did not see his wretched body shrivelled up before their eyes, by the burning wrath of the Almighty ! Could there be plainer speech than this? Would not the people start up in their seats, by a simultaneous impulse, and tear him down out of the pulpit which he defiled? Not so, in- deed ! They heard it all, and did but reverence him the more. They little guessed what deadly purport lurked in those self-condemning words. " The godly youth ! " said they among them- selves. « The saint on earth ! Alas, if he dis- cern such sinfulness in his own white soul, what horrid spectacle would he behold in thine or mine ! " The minister well knew — subtle, but remorseful hypocrite that he was ! — the light in which his vague confession would be viewed. He had striven to put a cheat upon himself by making the avowal of a guilty conscience, but ' Letter 1 once, he had he long, deep, len sent forth ith the black e — nay, more tually spoken ! Id his hearers er companion i, an abomina- lity; and that d not see his re their eyes, ?hty ! Could "^^g Scarlet Letter ^is ? Would r seats, by a im down out Not so, in- but reverence what deadly nning words, mong them- las, if he dis- te soul, what in thine or -• subtle, but - the light in be viewed. 1 himself by iscience, but aog had gamed only one other sin, and a self- acknowledged shame, without the momentary relief of bemg self-deceived. He had spoken the very truth, and transformed it into the veriest falsehood. And yet, by the constitution of his nature, he loved the truth, and loathed the he, as few men ever did. Therefore, above all things else, he Ipathed his miserable self His inward trouble drove him to practices more in accordance with the old, corrupted faith of Rome, than with the better light of the church in which he had been born and bred. In Mr. Dimmesdale's secret closet, under lock and key /there was a bloody scourge. Often- times, this Protestant and Puritan divine had plied It on his own shoulders ; laughing bitterly at himself the while, and smiting so much the more pitilessly because of that bitter laugh. It, was hisjaistom, too, as it has been that of many other pious Puritans, to fast, -not, however./ like them in order to purify the body and render it the fitter medium of celestial illumina- tion, but ngorously, and until his knees trem- bled beneath him, .a^ an act of penance. He „^„vjglls. likewise, night after night, some- times in utter darkness ; sometimes with a glim- mering lamp; and sometimes, viewing his own light which he could throw upon it. Ke thus 14 aio "ISAe Scarlet Let ter typified the constant introspection wherewith he tortured, but could not purify, himself. In these lengthened vigils, his brain often reeled, and visions seemed to flit before him ; perhaps seen doubtfully, and by a faint light of their own, in the remote dimness of the chamber, or more vividly, and close beside him, within the looking-glass. Now it was a herd of diabolic shapes, that grinned and mocked at the pale minister, and beckoned him away with them; now a group of shining angels, who flew upward heavily, as sorrow-laden, but grew more ethereal as they rose. Now came the dead friends of his youth, and his white-bearded father, with a saint- like frown, and his mother, turning her face away as she passed by. Ghost of a mother, — thinnest fantasy of a mother, — methinks she might yet have thrown a pitying glance towards her son ! And now, throu^ . the chamber which these spectral thoughts had made so ghastly, glided Hester Prynne, leading along little Pearl, in her scarlet garb, and pointing her forefinger, first at the scarlet letter on her bosom, and then at the clergyman's own breast. None of these visions ever quite deluded him. At any moment, by an effort of his will, he could discern substances through their misty lack of substance, and convince himself that they were not solid in their nature, like yonder '^Ae Scarlet Letter 311 r„ / T. ""'■ °' ""^ '''e- ^l""'-^. leathern- bound and braze„-cla.ped volume of divinity. But, for all that, they were, in one sense, the •niest and most substantial things which the poor minister now dealt with. It is the un- speakable m,sery of a life so false as his, that al S t "■ '"' "''='^"" °"' °f "'^""er meant by Heaven to be the spirit's joy and nutr,me„t To the untrue man, the whole uni TLZ 'Z''.'' impalpable, -it shrinks to „oth.ag w,thm h,s grasp. And he himself, m so far as he shows himself in a false light becomes a shadow, or, indeed, ceases to exist The only truth that continued to give Mr D,mmesdale a real existence on this earth, was' iLTf '" ^'' '"""°'' '°'''' ^"d "-= ""dis- sembled expression of it in his aspect. Had he once found power to smile, and wear a face of gayety, there would have been no such man 1 On one of those ugly nights, which we have famtly hmted at, but forborne to picture forth he m,n,ster started from his chair. A new thought had struck him. There might be a moments peace in it. Attiring himself with as much care as .f ,t had been for public worship, and preasely m the same manner, he stole ^^' ^S^ <^M>imster''s Vipil 'ALKING in the shadow of a I dream, as it vv;:re, and perhaps actually under the influence of 'a species of somnambulisni, Mr. jDimmesdale reached the spot where, now so long since, Hester Prynne had lived through her first hours of public ignominy. The same platform of scaffold, black and weather- stained with the storm or sunshine of seven long years, and foot-worn, too, with the tread of many culprits who had since ascended it, remained standing beneath the balcony of the meeting- house. The minister went up the steps. It was an obscure night of early May. An unvaried pall of cloud muffled the whole expanse of sky from zenith to horizon. If the same multitude which had stood as eye-witnesses while Hester Prynne sustained her punishment could now have been summoned forth, they would have discerned no face above the platform, nor hardly the outline of a human shape, in the dark gray of the midnight. But the town was all asleep. There was no peril of discovery. The minister "^/ie Scarlet Letter 213 might stand there, if it so pleased him, until morning should redden in the east, without other risk than that the dank and chill night-air would creep into his frame, and stiffen his joints with rheumatism, and clog his throat with catarrh and cough ; thereby d. Vauding the expectant audi- ence of to-morrows prayer and sermon. No eye could see him, save that ever-wakeful one which had seen him in his closet, wielding the "^ bloody scourge. Why, then, had he come hither.' Was it but the mockery of penitence? A mockery, indeed, but in which his soul trifled with itself! A mockery at which angels blushed and wept, while Hends rejoiced, with jeering laughter! He had been driven hither by the impulse of that Remorse which dogged him everywhere, and whose own sister and closely Jinked companion was that Cowardice which in- variably drew him back, with her tremulous gripe, just when the other impulse had hurried him to the verge of a disclosure. Poor, miserable man ! what right had infirmity like his to burden Itself with crime? Crime is for the iron-nerved, who have their choice either to endure it, or, if >t press too hard, to exert their fierce and savlge strength for a good purpose, and fling it off at once ! This feeble and most sensitive of spirits could do neither, yet continually did one thing or another, which intertwined, in the same in- /* "4 "^Ae Scarlet Letter extricable knot, the agony of heaven-defying guilt and vain repentance. And thus, while standing on the scaffold, in this vain show of expiation, Mr. Dimmesdale was overcome with a great horror of mind, as if the universe were gazing at a scarlet token on his raked breast, right over his heart. On that spot in very truth, there was, and there had long been' the gnawmg and poisonous tooth of bodily pain! Without any effort of his will, or power to restrain himself, he shrieked aloud ; an outcry that went pealing through the night, and was beaten back from one house to another, and reverberated from the hills in the background • as if a company of devils, detecting so much misery and terror in it, had made a plaything of the sound, and were bandying it to and fro. "It is done ! " muttered the minister, covering his face with his hands. « The whole town will awake, and hurry forth, and find me here ! " But it was not so. The shriek had perhaps sounded with a far greater power, to his own startled ears, than it actually possessed. The town did not awake; or, if it did, the drowsy slumberers mistook thexry either for something frightfl:! in a. dream, or^or. the noise of witches ; whose voices, at that period, were often heard to pass over the settlements or lonely cottages, as they rode with Satan through the air./ The "^Ae Scarlet Letter 215 clergyman, therefore, hearing no symptoms of disturbance, uncovered his eyes and looked about h.m. At one of the chamber-windows of Gov- ernor Bellingham's mansion, which stood at some distance, on the line of another street, he beheld the appearance of the old magistrate himself, with a lamp m h,s hand, a white nightcap on his head, and a long white gown enveloping his figure. He looked hke a ghost, evoked unseasonably from the grave. The cry had evidently startled him. At another window of the same house moreover appeared old Mistress Hibbins, the Governors sister, also with a lamp, which, even thus far off. revealed the expression of her sour and discontented face. She thrust forth her head from the latHce, and looked anxiously upward. Beyond the shadow of a doubt, this venerable witch-lady had heard Mr. Dimmesdale's out- cry, and interpreted it. with its multitudinous echoes and reverberations, as the clamor of the fiends and night-hags, with whom she was well known to make excursions into the forest Detecting the gleam of Governor Belling- hams lamp the old lady quickly extinguished her own and vanished. Possibly, she went up among ,h ,ouds. The minister saw nothing further of her motions. The magistrate, after f wary observation of the darkness,- into wh ch nevertheless, he could see but little further than ^^6 "^Ae Scarlet Letter he^might into a milJ-stone, ^ retired from the The minister grew comparatively calm. His eyes, however, were soon greeted by a little ghmmermg light, which, at first a long way off was approaching up the street. It threw a gleam' of recognition on here a post, and there a garden- fence, and here a latticed window-pane, and there a pump, with its m trough of water, and here agam an arched door of oak, with an iron knocker, and a rough log for the doorstep. The Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale noted all these minute particulars, even while firmly convinced that the doom of his existence was stealing on- ward in the footsteps which he now heardj and that the gleam of the lantern would fall upon him in a few moments more, and reveal his long- hidden secret. As the light drew nearer, he beheld, within its illuminated circle, his brother clergyman, -or, to speak more accurately, his professional father, as well as highly valued friend -^ the Reverend Mr. Wilson; who, as ivir. Dimmesdale now conjectured, had been praying at the bedside of some dying man. And so he had The good old minister came freshly from the death-chamber of Governor Winthrop, who had passed from earth to heaven within that very hour. And now, surrounded, like the samt-like personages of olden times, with a "^Ae Scarlet Letter 217 radiant halo, that glorified him amid this gloomy mght of sm, ... as if the departed Governor had left h,m an mhentance of his glory, or as if he had caught upon himself the distant shine of the celestial city, while looking thitherward to see the triumphant pilgrim pass within its gates, - now m short, good Father Wilson was moving home- ward, aiding his footsteps with a lighted lantern' The glimmer of this luminary suggested the above conceits to Mr. Dimmesdale, who smiled - nay, almost laughed at them, ~ and then wondered if he were going mad ^^'^' t'li^'?''"^ ^'' ^''^°" P«««ed beside the scaffold, closely muffling his Geneva cloak about him with one arm, and holding the lantern could hardly restrain himself from speaking A good evening to you, venerable Father a iTa t h ^' "E '''^^' ' P"^ y°"> -^ P- a pleasant hour with me ! " Good heaven. ! Had Mr. Dimmesdale actu- % spoken ? For one instant, l,e believed that these words had passed his lips. But thev were uttered only within his imagination. T IZ erable Father Wilson conrinued to step slowly onw„d loolcng carefully at the muddy pathway before h,s feet, and never once turning his head owards the guilty platform. When the light of the ghmmering lantern had faded quite away, S^S^Si-?*?*! J^ 218 ^/le Sca rlet Letter the minister discovered, by tiie faintness which came over him, that the last few moments had been a crisis of terrible anxiety ; although his mind had made an involuntary effort to relieve itself by a kind of lurid playfulness. Shortly afterwards, the like grisly sense of the humorous again stole in among the solemn phan- toms of his thought. He felt his limbs growing stiff with the unaccustomed chilliness of the night, and doubted whether he should be able to de- scend the steps of the scaffold. Morning would break, and find him there. The neighborhood would begin to rouse itself The earliest riser, coming forth in the dim twilight, would perceive a vaguely defined figure aloft on the place of shame ; and, half crazed betwixt alarm and curi- osity, would go, knocking from door to door, summoning all the people to behold the ghost — as he needs must think it — of some defunct transgressor. A dusky tumult would flap its wings from one house to another. Then — the morning light still waxing stronger — old patri- archs would rise up in great haste, each in his flannel gown, and matronly dames, wirhout paus- ing to put off their night-gear. The whole tribe of decorous personages, who had never heretofore been seen with a single hair of their heads awry, would start into public view, with the disorder of a nightmare in their aspects. Old Governor "^Ae Scarlet Letter 219 Bellingham would come grimly forth, with his Kmg James's ruff fastened askew ; and Mistress Hibbms, with some twigs of the forest clinging to her skirts, and looking sourer than ever! as having hardly got a wink of sleep after her nicrht- nde; and good Father Wilson, too, after spelid- ing half the night at a death-bed, and liking ill to be disturbed, thus early, out of his dreams about the glorified saints. Hither, likewise, would come the elders and deacons of Mr Dim- mesdale's church, aud the young virgins who so Idolized their minister, and had made a shrine for him in their white bosoms ; which now, by the by, in their hurry and confusion, they would scantly have given themselves time to cover with their kerchiefs. All people, in a word, would come stumbling over their thresholds, and turning up their amazed and horror-stricken visages around the scaffold. Whom would they discern there, with the red eastern light upon his brow? Whom, but the Reverend Arthur Dim- mesdale, half frozen to death, overwhelmed with shame and standing where Hester Prynne had stood ! Carried away by the grotesque horror of this picture, the minister, unawares, and to his own infimte alarm, burst into a great peal of laughter. It was immediately responded to by a light, airy, childish ^^""^ — -L- ' • • • -^ ' *"/» / x / V X laugh, in which, with a thrill if th.> 220 "^Ae Scarlet Letter heart, — but he knew not whether of exquisite pain, or pleasure as acute, — he recognized the tones of little Pearl. *• Pearl ! Little Pearl ! " cried he after a mo- ment's pause ; then, suppressing his voice, — " Hester ! Hester Prynne ! Are you there ? " " Yes ; it is Hester Prynne ! " she replied, in a tone of surprise ; and the minister heard her footsteps approaching from the sidewalk, along which she had been passing. " It is I, and my little Pearl." " Whence come you, Hester ? " asked the minister. " What sent you hither .? " " I have been watching at a death-bed," an- swered Hester Prynne ; — "at Governor Win- throp's death-bed, and have taken his measure for a robe, and am now going homeward to my dwelling." " Come up hither, Hester, thou and little Pearl," said the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale. " Ye have both been here before, but I was not with you. Come up hither once again, and we will stand all three together ! " She silently ascended the steps, and stood on the platform, holding little Pearl by the hand. The minister felt for the child's other hand, and took it. The moment that he did so, there came what seemed a tumultuous rush of new life, other life than his own, pouring like a tor- "^Ae Scarlet Letter 221 rent into his heart, and hurrying through all his veins, as if the mother and the child were com- municating their vital warmth to his half-torpid system. The three formed an electric chain " Minister ! " whispered little Pearl. " What wouldst thou say, child ? " asked Mr Dimmesdale. "Wilt thou stand herewith mother and me to-morrow noontide ? " inquired Pearl. "Nay ; not so, my little Pearl," answered the mimster ; for, with the new energy of the moment, all the dread of public exposure, that had so lone been the anguish of his life, had returned upon him ; and he was already trembling at the con- junction m which - with a strange joy, neverthe- less—he now found himself "Not so, my child I shall, indeed, stand with thy mother and thee, one other day, but not to-morrow " Pearl laughed, and attempted to pull away her hand. But the minister held it fast. " A moment longer, my child ! " said he. "But wilt thou promise," asked Pearl, "to take my hand, and mother's hand, tomorrow noontide ? "Not then, Pearl," saia the minister, "but another time." "And what other time ? " persisted the child. ----At the great judgment day," whispered the mmister,- and: strangely enough, the sense that ^^^ "tSAe Scarlet Letter he was a professional teacher of th^ truth im- pelled him to answer the child so. "Then -^nd there, before the judgment-seat, thy mother,' and thou, and I must stand together. But the dav- iight of this world shall not see our meeting ' "' Pearl laughed again. But, before Mr. Dimmesdale had done speak- ing, a light gleamed far and wide over all the muffled sky. It was doubtless caused by one of those meteors, y;hkh the night-watcher may so often obscrve'ljurning out to waste, in the vacant regions of the atmosphere. So powerful was its radiance, that it thoroughly illuminated the dense medium of cloud betwixt the sky and earth. The great vault brightened, like the dome of an im- mense lamp. It showed the familiar scene of the street, with the distinctness of mid-day, but also with the awfulness that is always imparted to fa- miliar objects by an unaccustomed light The wooden houses, with their jutting stories and quaint gable-peaks ; the doorsteps and thresholds with the early grass springing up about them • the garden-plots, black with freshly turned earth ' the wheel-track, little worn, and, even in the market-place, margined with green on either side ; — all were visible, but with a singularity of aspect that seemed to give another moral inter- pretation to the things of this world than they had ever borne before. And there stood the i Letter :h3 truth im- " Then, and ' mother, and But the dav- meeting ! " done speak- over all the d by one of cher may so n the vacant i^erful was its ed the dense earth. The le of an im- scene of the ay, but also Darted to fa- light. The stories and thresholds, )out them ; rned earth ; ^en in the on either gularity of loral inter- than they stood the ^Ae Scarlet Letter 223 minister, with his hand over his heart; and Hester Prynne, with the embroidered letter ghmmenng on her bosom ; and little Pearl her self a symbol, and the connecting link between those two. They stood in the noon of that strange and solemn splendor, as if it were the iight that IS to reveal all secrets, and the day- break that shall unite all who belong to one another. There was witchcraft in little Pearl's eyes, and her face, as she glanced upward at the minister wore that naughty smile which made its ex- pression frequently so elfish. She withdrew her hand from Mr. Dimmesdale's, and pointed across the street. But he clasped both his hands over his breast, and cast his eyes towards the zenith. /^Nothing was more common, in those days than to interpret all meteoric appearances, and other natural phenomena, that occurred with less regularity than the rise and set of sun and moon, as so many revelations from a supernat- ural source. Thus, a blazing spear, a sword of • «ame, a bow, or a sheaf of arrows, seen in the midnight sky, prefigured Indian warfare. Pesti- lence was known to have been foreboded bv a' shower of crimson light. We doubt whether any marked event, for good or evil, ever befell New England, from its settlement down to Rev- ^^4 "ISAe Scarlet L etter olutionary times, of which the inhabitants had not been previously warned by some spectacle of this nature. Not seldom, it had been seen by multitudes. Oftener, however, its credibility rested on the faith of some lonely eye-witness, who beheld the wonder through the colored magnifying, and distorting medium of his imagi- nation, and shaped it more distinctly in his after- thought. It was, indeed, a majestic idea, that ^>the destiny of nations should be revealed in these awful hieroglyphics, on the cope of heaven. A scroll so wide might not be deemed too ex- pansive for Providence to write a people's doom upon. The belief was a favorite one with our forefathers, as betokening that their infant com- monwealth was under a celestial guardianship of peculiar intimacy and strictness. But what shall we say, when an individual discovers a revelation addressed to himself alone, on the same vast sheet of record ! In such a case, it could only be the symptom of a highly disordered mental state, when a man, rendered morbidly self-con- templative by long, intense, and secret pain, had extended his egotism over the whole expanse of nature, until the firmament itself should appear no more than a fitting page for his soul's history and fate! We impute it, therefore, solely to the disease m his own eye and heart, that the minister, look- Letter labitants had 'me spectacle id been seen ts credibility eye-witness, the colored, jf his imagi- in his after- c idea, that revealed, in 2 of heaven, ned too ex- jple's doom le with our infant com- dianship of t what shall a revelation same vast could only red mental y self-con- ; pain, had expanse of uld appear il's history :he disease ster, look- "^Ae Scarlet Letter 225 ing upward ,o the zenith, beheld there the ap- pearance of an immense letter, — the letter A 1 marted out in lines of dull red light. t^J^'^ ' the meteor may have shown itself at that point burmng duskily through a veil of cloud .'Tul w h no such .hape as his guilty imagi-latL" that T'." ""■ "'"■ '° ""'"= d'finitenesa, that^another s guilt might have seen another' There was a singular circumstance that charac actenzed Mr. Dimmesdale's psycholog cal smt at th„ moment. All the time thatT^gaz d "p." ward to the zenith, he was, nevertheLs per- fectly aware that little Pearl was pointing her ' stood at no great distance from the scaffold- ' Ince^hrd"''''":^."' '" ^™' -* "■= -- glance that discerned the miraculous letter To %httr:'H" '° "' o^"- °^i«'». the meteoH be th 7r .' "'™ "P^'^^'o" • - '' -ight well at a I 1 ,!* '"™" "" "°' '"'f-^ 'hen, a vwiich he looked upon his victim. Certainlv if i-rynne and the clergyman of the day of judff ment then might Roger Chillingworth \ave there with a smile and scowl, to claim his own Ni' \ 226 '"\ "^Ae Scarlet Leffer So vivid was the expression, or so intense the minister s perception of it, that iv seemed stiJl to remain pa.nted on the darkness, after the meteor had vanished, with an effect as if the street and aJJ things else were at once annihilated. Who IS that man, Hester? ' gasped Mr Dimmesdale, overcome with terror. " I shiver L h' r^T' '^°" ^"°^ '^' '"^"•^ J hate Jymi._H ester ! ' , , She remembered her oath, and was silent. 1 tell thee, my soul shivers at him ! " nwt- tered the minister again. "Who is he.? Who IS he ? Canst thou do nothing for me ? I have a nameless horror of the man ! " " Minister," said little Pearl, « I can tell thee who he is ! " "Quickly, then, child I " said the minister, bending his ear close to her lips. « Quickly > — and as low as thou canst whisper." Pearl mumbled something into' his ear, that sounded indeed, like human language, but was only such gibberish as children may be heard amusing themselves with, by the hour together nt all events, if it involved any secret information in regard to old Roger Chillingworth, it was in a ^ngue unknown to the erudite clergyman, and did but increase the bewilderment of his mind. The elfish child then laughed aloud. "Dost thou mock me now? " said the minister Letter intense the :emed still to er the meteor he street and lated. gasped Mr. • " I shiver an? I hate 5 silent, him ! " niut- ! he? Who le? I have :an tell thee le minister, Quickly ! — is ear, that g:e, but was y be heard ir together, information it was in a ^man, and his mind. e minister. yAe Scarlet Letter 227 to-morrow noontide ' " * " Pious Master ni^ ! , ^ ""' pl«form. heads are in our books^avTneed Tj' "'T looked after ! We dream i ' '"'"^y n>e„ts,a„d„alkTn ouTXd 7 ™''"^ "°- -d my dear friend, I p^Tou l^^eTl ^''' home!" ^ ^ ' " "^^ ^^ad you " How knewest thou that I was her^? " i ^ the minister, fearfUlIy. ^' ^'^^^ ChHlIgw^^^^^^^^ ^::' '^'t'." --red Roger I i^ad fpent^he betterpantrl^' ''t ""'''''- bedside of the wor hToful r "'^^' "' ^^^ doing what my po ^st jtrh?" '^"^'^'^P^ ease. He goina hT , ^^^ ^° S^^^ ^'"^ ■ne going home to a better worlH T ru wise, was on m,r . worjd, J, like- -nge r.,.:\z zi 'Tor- r^" ""-^ beseeci vou R.„. To- "' ""'' "'. I poorly a le ' .cZTLtrl !.'" ^°" *"' ""^ Aha ! see now !,„ u *■ ^"'^ '""""'"•ow. these boolT:: the": bti: rt'^ "■' ''™"'- '«». good Sir, and tk ° hI , °" '*"""' """^ "ight-whimse;s will 1,. "' P'"™*'' ^ ">ese "eys will grow upon you, >> aa8 '^Ae Scarlet Letter With a chill despondency, like one awaking himself to the phys.can, and was led away 1 he next day, however, being the Sabbath ri hS " '^■^"•'-7'^i^'' »- l-'M to be the nchest and most powerful, and the most replete with heavenly mfluences, that had ever proceeded from h,s l,ps. Souls, it is said more souls han one were brought to the truth by the efficacy of that sermon and vowed within themselve; to cherish a holy gratitude towards Mr. Dimmes- dale throughout the long hereafter. But a^ he came down the pulpit steps, the gray-beaded sexton met him, holding up a black 'glove, which the mmister recognized as his own "It was found," said the sexton, « this morn- mg, on the scaffold where evil-doers are sTup to public shame. Satan dropped it there, I take .t mtendmg a scurril,™ jest against vou'r re^'r! -- ence. But, indeed, he was blind and foolish as he ever and always is. A pure hand ne da',^-^ glove to cover it ! " "Thank you, my good friend," said the minis- to-, gravely, but startled at heart ; for, so confosed was h.» remembrance, that he had almost brought Mmself to look at the events of the past night as v,s.onary. •■Yes,itseems tobemyglo've.in'fed!" Letter said Mr. ane awaking, » he yielded led away. :he Sabbath, :ld to be the ^ost replete Jr proceecied ' souls than 2 efficacy of emselves to r. Dimmes- But, as he ray-bearded love, which this morn- are set up ^ ere, I take our rever-"'^ foolish, as needs no the minis- 3 confused t brought t night as , indeed.'" sm,l,„g. .. B.t did your rever T"' S""''^ Governor Winthrop wiv-L^ '' "' °"'' Kood _ "ighf, it was doubtLriewt ^h "T^fnaTf he some notice tliereof • " " """' '''""W ^o answered the minister