rnia 1 - THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES s4 tt ? *>. LITTLE MASTERPIECES iimiiiiiiniinimmTiiiiiniiiii \ ivlasterpieces Edited by Bliss Perry NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE V DR. HEIDEGGER'S EXPERIMENT THE BIRTHMARK F'^ TT BRAND ELD ^S WOODEN IMAGE THE AMBITIOUS GUEST THE GREAT STONE FACE THE GRAY CHAMPION NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY & McCLURE CO. 1899 Copyright, 1897, by DOUBLEDAY & McCLURE Co. These selections are used by special arrangement with Messrs. Hougkton^ Mifflin &* Co., the authorized publishers of Hawthorne's works. SHLF Introduction Introduction HAWTHOENE made three collections of his short stories and sketches : " Twice-Told Tales," " Mosses from an Old Manse," and " The Snow Image and Other Tales." The prefaces to these volumes express, with char acteristic charm, the author's dissatisfaction with his handiwork. No critic has pointed out so clearly as Hawthorne himself the in effectiveness of some of the " Twice-Told Tales " ; he thinks that the " Mosses from an Old Manse " afford no solid basis for a lit erary reputation; and his comment upon the earlier and later work gathered indiscrim inately into his final volume is that " the ripened autumnal fruit tastes but little better than the early windfalls." It must be remembered that the collections * were made in desultory fashion. They in cluded some work that Hawthorne had out grown even when the first volume was published, such as elaborate exercises in description and fanciful allegories, excel lently composed but without substance. Yet side by side with these proofs of his long, vii Introduction weary apprenticeship are stories that reveal the consummate artist, mature in mind and heart, and with the sure hand of the master. The qualities of imagination and style that place Hawthorne easily first among Amer ican writers of fiction are as readily discern ible in his best brief tales as in his romances. " Dr. Heidegger's Experiment," with which the present volume opens, is Hawthorne's earliest treatment of the elixir of immortal ity theme, which haunted him throughout his life and was the subject of the unfinished romance which rested upon his coffin. He handles it daintily, poetically here, with an irony at once exquisite and profound. " The Birthmark ' represents another favorite theme: the rivalry between scientific passion and human affection. It is not wholly free from the morbid fancy which Hawthorne occasionally betrays, and which allies him, on one side of his many-gifted mind, with Edgar Allan Poe; but the essential sanity of Hawthorne's moral, and the perfection of the workmanship, render " The Birthmark " worthy of its high place among modern short stories. " jSthan Brand " dates obviously from the sojourn at North Adams, Massa chusetts, described in the " American Note- Book." Fragmentary as it is, it is one of Hawthorne's most powerful pieces of writ ing, the Unpardonable Sin which it portrays the development of the intellect at the ex- viii Introduction pense of the heart being one which the lonely romancer himself had had cause to dread. The motive of the humorous charac ter sketch entitled "Wakefield " is somewhat similar: the danger of stepping aside, even for a moment, from one's allotted place. " Browne's Wooden Image " is a charming old Boston version of the artistic miracles made possible by love. In " The Ambitious Guest," the familiar story of the Willey House, in the Notch of the White Hills, is told with singular delicacy and imaginative ness, while " The Great Stone Face," a par able after Hawthorne's own heart, is sug gested by a well-known phenomenon of the same mountainous region. Hawthorne's numerous tales based upon New England history are represented by one of the brief est, "The Gray Champion." whose succinct opening and eloquent close are no less admi rable than the stern passion of its dramatic climax. Not every note of which Hawthorne's deep- toned instrument was capable is exhibited in these eight tales, but they will serve, per haps, to show the nature of his magic. Cer tain characteristics of his art are everywhere in evidence: simplicity of theme and treat ment, absolute clearness, verbal melody, with now and again a dusky splendor of coloring. The touch of a few other men may be as per fect, the notes they evoke more brilliant, cer- ix Introduction tainly more gay, but Hawthorne's graver harmonies linger in the ear and abide in the memory. It is only after intimate acquaint ance, however, that one perceives fully Haw thorne's real scope, his power to convey an idea in its totality. His art is the product of a rich personality, strong, self-contained, content to brood long over its treasures. It is seldom in the history of literature and quite without parallel in American letters that a nature so perfectly dowered should attain to such perfect self-expression. Here lies his supreme fortune as an artist. He was permitted to give adequate expression to a rare and beautiful genius, and for thousands of his countrymen life has been touched to finer issues because Hawthorne followed his boyish bent and became a writer of fiction. BLISS PERRY. CONTENTS PAGE Editor's Introduction v Dr. Heidegger's Experiment . . I The Birthmark 21 Ethan Brand 53 Wakefield 83 Browne's Wooden Image . . . 101 The Ambitious Guest .... 125 The Great Stone Face .... 141 The Gray Champion .... 177 Dr. Heidegger's Experiment Dr. Heidegger's Experiment THAT very singular man, old Dr. Heidegger, once invited four venerable friends to meet him in his study. There were three white- bearded gentlemen, Mr. Medbourne, Colonel Killigrew, and Mr. Gascoigne, and a withered gentlewoman, whose name was the Widow Wycherly. They were all melancholy old creatures^who had been unfortunate in life, and whose greatest misfortune it was that they were not long ago in their graves. Mr. Medbourne, in the vigor of his age, had been a prosperous merchant, but had lost his all by a frantic speculation, and was now little better than a mendicant. Colonel Killigrew had wasted hisbest years^ substance, in the pursj * of soul and body. Mr. Gascoigne was a ruTrLacl politician, a man of evil fame, or at least had been so, till time had buried him from the knowledge of the present genera tion, amiT made him obscure instead "of~in- famous. TAS tor the Widow Wycherly. tradi- 3 Nathaniel Hawthorne tion tells us that she was a great beauty in her day; but, for a long wniie pasC she had lived in deep seclusion, on account of certain scandalous stories, which had prejudiced the "kntrv of the towr^ q gainst her. It is a cir cumstance worth mentioning, that each of these three old gentlemen, Mr. Medbourne, Colonel Killigrew, and Mr. Gascoigne, were early lovers of the Widow Wycherly, and had once been on the point of cutting each other's throats for her sake. And, before proceeding further, I will merely hint, that Dr. Heidegger and all his four guests were sometimes thought to be a little beside them selves; as is not unfrequently the case with old people, when worried either by present troubles or woful recollections. " My dear old friends," said Dr. Heidegger, motioning them to be seated, " I am desirous of your assistance in one of those little ex periments with which I amuse myself here in my study." If all stories were true, Dr. Heidegger's study must have been a very curious place. It was a dim, old-fashioned chamber, fes tooned with cobwebs and besprinkled with antique dust. Around the walls stood several oaken bookcases, the lower shelves of which were filled with rows of gigantic folios and black-letter quartos, and the upper with little parchment-covered duodecimos. Over the central bookcase was a bronze bust of Hippoc- 4 Dr. Heidegger's Experiment rates, with which, according to some authori ties, Dr. Heidegger was accustomed to hold consultations, in all difficult cases of his practice. In the obscurest corner of the room stood a tall and narrow oaken closet, with its door ajar, within which doubtfully ap peared a skeleton. Between two of the book cases hung a looking-glass, presenting its high and dusty plate within a tarnished gilt frame. Among many wonderful stories re lated of this mirror, it was fabled that the spirits of all the doctor's deceased patients dwelt within its verge, and would stare him in the face whenever he looked thitherward. The opposite side of the chamber was orna mented with the full-length portrait of a young lady, arrayed in the faded magnifi cence of silk, satin, and brocade, and with a visage as faded as her dress. Above half a century ago, Dr. Heidegger had been on the point of marriage with this young lady; but, being affected with some slight disorder, she had swallowed one of her lover's prescrip tions, and died on the bridal evening. The greatest curiosity of the study remains to be mentioned; it was a ponderous folio volume, bound in black leather, with massive silver clasps. There were no letters on the back, and nobody could tell the title of the book. But it was well known to be a book of magic; and once, when a chambermaid had lifted it, merely to brush away the dust, the skeleton 5 Nathaniel Hawthorne had rattled in its closet, the picture of the young lady had stepped one foot upon the floor, and several ghastly faces had peeped forth from the mirror; while the brazen head or' Hippocrates frowned, and said, " For bear! " Such was Dr. Heidegger's study. On the summer afternoon of our tale, a small round table, as black as ebony, stood in the centre of the room, sustaining a cut-glass vase, of beautiful form and elaborate workmanship. The sunshine came through the window, be tween the heavy festoons of two faded dam ask curtains, and fell directly across this vase; so that a mild splendor was reflected from it on the ashen visages of the five old people who sat around. Four champagne- glasses were also on the table. " My dear old friends," repeated Dr. Hei degger, " may I reckon on your aid in per forming an exceedingly curious experiment?" Now Dr. Heidegger was a very strange old gentleman, whose eccentricity had become the nucleus for a thousand fantastic stories, Some of these fables, to my shame be it spoken, might possibly be traced back to mine own veracious self; and if any passages of the present tale should startle the reader's faith, I must be content to bear the stigma of a fiction-monger. When the doctor's four guests heard him talk of his proposed experiment, they antici- 6 \ Dr. Heidegger's Experiment pated nothing more wonderful than the mur der of a mouse in an air-pump, or the exam ination of a cobweb by the microscope, or some similar nonsense, with which he was constantly in the habit of pestering his in timates. But without waiting for a reply, Dr. Heidegger hobbled across the chamber, and returned with the same ponderous folio, bound in black leather, which common report affirmed to be a book of magic. Undoing the silver clasps, he opened the volume, and took from among its black-letter pages a rose, or what was once a rose, though now the green leaves and crimson petals had assumed one brownish hue, and the ancient flower seemed ready to crumble to dust in the doctor's hands. " This rose," said Dr. Heidegger, with a sigh, " this same withered and crumbling flower, blossomed five-and-fifty years ago. It was given me by Sylvia Ward, whose por trait hangs yonder; and I meant to wear it in my bosom at our wedding. Five-and- fifty years it has been treasured between the leaves of this old volume. Now, would you deem it possible that this rose of naif a cen tury could ever bloom again? " "Nonsense!" said the Widow Wycherly, with a peevish toss of her head. " You might as well ask whether an old woman's wrinkled face could ever bloom again." "See! " answered Dr. Heidegger. 7 Nathaniel Hawthorne He uncovered the vase, and threw the faded rose into the water which it contained. At first, it lay lightly on the surface of the fluid, appearing to imbibe none of its moisture. Soon, however, a singular change began to be visible. The crushed and dried petals stirred, and assumed a deepening tinge of crimson, as if the flower were reviving from a death-like slumber; the slender stalk and twigs of foliage became green; and there was the rose of half a century, looking as fresh as when Sylvia Ward had first given it to her lover. It was scarcely full blown; for some of its delicate red leaves curled modestly around its moist bosom, within which two or three dewdrops were sparkling. " That is certainly a very pretty decep tion," said the doctor's friends; carelessly, however, for they had witnessed greater miracles at a conjurer's show; " pray how was it effected? " " Did you never hear of the ' Fountain of Youth,' asked Dr. Heidegger, " which Ponce de Leon, the Spanish adventurer, went in search of, two or three centuries ago?" " But did Ponce de Leon ever find it? " said the Widow Wycherly. " No," answered Dr. Heidegger, " for he never sought it in the right place. The famous Fountain of Youth, if I am rightly informed, is situated in the southern part of the Floridian peninsula, not far from Lake 8 Dr. Heidegger's Experiment Macaco. Its source is overshadowed by sev eral gigantic magnolias, which, though num berless centuries old, have been kept as fresh as violets, by the virtues of this wonderful water. An acquaintance of mine, knowing my curiosity in such matters, has sent me what you see in the vase. "Ahem! " said Colonel Killigrew, who be lieved not a word of the doctor's story; " and what may be the effect of this fluid on the human frame? " " You shall judge for yourself, my dear Colonel," replied Dr. Heidegger; " and all of you, my respected friends, are welcome to so much of this admirable fluid as may restore to you the bloom of youth. For my own part, having had much trouble in growing old, I am in no hurry to grow young again. With your permission, therefore, I will merely watch the progress of the experiment." While he spoke, Dr. Heidegger had been filling the four champagne-glasses with the water of the Fountain of Youth. It was ap parently impregnated with an effervescent gas, for little bubbles were continually as cending from the depths of the glasses, and bursting in silvery spray at the surface. As the liquor diffused a pleasant perfume, the old people doubted not that it possessed cor dial and comfortable properties; and, though utter sceptics as to its rejuvenescent power, they were inclined to swallow it at once. But 9 Nathaniel Hawthorne Dr. Heidegger besought them to stay a moment. " Before you drink, my respectable old friends," said he, " it would be well that, with the experience of a life-time to direct you, you should draw up a few general rules for your guidance, in passing a second time through the perils of youth. Think what a sin and shame it would be, if, with your pecu liar advantages, you should not become pat terns of virtue and wisdom to all the young people of the age." The doctor's four venerable friends made him no answer, except by a feeble and trem ulous laugh; so very ridiculous was the idea, that, knowing how closely repentance treads behind the steps of error, they should ever go astray again. " Drink, then," said the doctor, bowing. " I rejoice that I have so well selected the subjects of my experiment." With palsied hands, they raised the glasses to their lips. The liquor, if it really pos sessed such virtues as Dr. Heidegger imputed to it, could not have been bestowed on four human beings who needed it more wofully. They looked as if they had never known what youth or pleasure was, but had been the off spring of Nature's dotage, and always the gray, decrepit, sapless, miserable creatures who now sat stooping round the doctor's table, without life enough in their souls or 10 Dr. Heidegger's Experiment bodies to be animated even by the prospect of growing young again. They drank off the water, and replaced their glasses on the table. Assuredly there was an almost immediate improvement in the aspect of the party, not unlike what might have been produced by a glass of generous wine, together with a sud den glow of cheerful sunshine, brightening over all their visages at once. There was a healthful suffusion on their cheeks, instead of the ashen hue that had made them look so corpse-like. They gazed at one another, and fancied that some magic power had really begun to smooth away the deep and sad in scriptions which Father Time had been so long engraving on their brows. The Widow Wycherly adjusted her cap, for she felt al most like a woman again. " Give us more of this wondrous water! " cried they, eagerly. "'We are younger, but we are still too old! Quick, give us more! " "Patience, patience!" quoth Dr. Hei degger, who sat watching the experiment, with philosophic coolness. " You have been a long time growing old. Surely, you might be content to grow young in half an hour! But the water is at your service." Again 'he filled their glasses with the liquor of youth, enough of which still remained in the vase to turn half the old people in the city to the age of their own grandchildren. While the bubbles were yet sparkling on the 11 Nathaniel Hawthorne brim, the doctor's four guests snatched their glasses from the table, and swallowed the contents at a single gulp. Was it delusion? even while the draught was passing down their throats, it seemed to have wrought a change on their whole systems. Their eyes grew clear and bright; a dark shade deepened among their silvery locks; they sat around the table, three gentlemen of middle age, and a woman, hardly beyond her buxom prime. "My dear widow, you are charming! " cried Colonel Killigrew, whose eyes had- been fixed upon her face, while the shadows of age were flitting from it like darkness from the crim son daybreak. The fair widow knew, of old, that Colonel Killigrew's compliments were not always measured by sober truth; so she started up and ran to the mirror, still dreading that the ugly visage of an old woman would meet her gaze. Meanwhile, the three gentlemen be haved in such a manner, as proved that the water of the Fountain of Youth possessed some intoxicating qualities; unless, indeed, their exhilaration of spirits were merely a lightsome dizziness, caused by the sudden removal of the weight of years. Mr. Gas- coigne's mind seemed to run on political top ics, but whether relating to the past, present, or future, could not easily be determined, since the same ideas and phrases have been 12 Dr. Heidegger's Experiment in vogue these fifty years. Now he rattled forth full-throated sentences about patriot ism, national glory, and the people's right; now he muttered some perilous stuff or other, in a sly and doubtful whisper, so cautiously that even his own conscience could scarcely catch the secret; and now, again, he spoke in measured accents, and a deeply deferential tone, as if a royal ear were listening to his well-turned periods. Colonel Killigrew all this time had been trolling forth a jolly bottle-song, and ringing his glass in sym phony with the chorus, while his eyes wan dered toward the buxom figure of the Widow Wycherly. On the other side of the table, Mr. Medbourne was involved in a calculation of dollars and cents, with which was strangely intermingled a project for supplying the East Indies with ice, by harnessing a team of whales to the polar icebergs. As for the Widow Wycherly, she stood be fore the mirror courtesying and simpering to her own image, and greeting it as the friend whom she loved better than all the world be side. She thrust her face close to the glass, to see whether some long-remembered wrinkle or crow's-foot had indeed vanished. She examined whether the snow had so en tirely melted from her hair, that the vene rable cap could be safely thrown aside. At last, turning briskly away, she came with a sort of dancing step to the table. 13 Nathaniel Hawthorne " My dear old doctor," cried she, " pray favor me with another glass! ' "Certainly, my dear madam, certainly!' replied the complaisant doctor; " see! I have already filled the glasses." There, in fact, stood the four glasses, brim ful of this wonderful water, the delicate spray of which, as it effervesced from the surface, resembled the tremulous glitter of diamonds. It was now so nearly sunset, that the chamber had grown duskier than ever; but a mild and moonlike splendor gleamed from within the vase, and rested alike on the four guests, and on the doctor's venerable figure. He sat in a high-backed, elaborately carved oaken arm-chair, with a gray dignity of aspect that might have well befitted that very Father Time, whose power had never been disputed, save by this fortunate com pany. Even while quaffing the third draught of the Fountain of Youth, they were almost awed by the expression of his mysterious visage. But, the next moment, the exhilarating gush of young life shot through their veins. They were now in the happy prime of youth. Age, with its miserable train of cares, and sorrows, and diseases, was remembered only as the trouble of a dream, from which they had joyously awoke. The fresh gloss of the soul, so early lost, and without which the world's successive scenes had been but a gal- 14 Dr. Heidegger's Experiment lery of faded pictures, again threw its en chantment over all their prospects. They felt like new-created beings, in a new-created universe. "We are young! We are young!" they cried exultingly. Youth, like the extremity of age, had ef faced the strongly marked characteristics of middle life, and mutually assimilated them all. They were a group of merry youngsters, almost maddened with the exuberant frolic- soineness of their years. The most singular effect of their gayety was an impulse to mock the infirmity and decrepitude of which they had so lately been the victims. They laughed loudly at their old-fashioned attire, the wide- skirted coats and flapped waistcoats of the young men, and the ancient cap and gown of the blooming girl. One limped across the floor, like a gouty grandfather; one set a pair of spectacles astride of his nose, and pre tended to pore over the black-letter pages of the book of magic; a third seated himself in an arm-chair, and strove to imitate the vene rable dignity of Dr. Heidegger. Then all shouted mirthfully, and leaped about the room. The Widow W T ycherly if so fresh a damsel could be called a widow tripped up to the doctor's chair, with a mischievous merriment in her rosy face. " Doctor, you dear old soul," cried she, " get up and dance with me! " And then the 15 Nathaniel Hawthorne four young people laughed louder than ever, to think what a queer figure the poor old doctor would cut. " Pray excuse me," answered the doctor, quietly. " I am old and rheumatic, and my dancing days were over long ago. But either of these gay young gentlemen will be glad of so pretty a partner." "Dance with me, Clara!" cried Colonel Killigrew. "No, no, I Will be her partner! " shouted Mr. Gascoigne. " She promised me her hand, fifty years ago! " exclaimed Mr. Medbourne. They all gathered round her. One caught both her hands in his passionate grasp, an other threw his arm about her waist, the third buried his hand among the glossy curls that clustered beneath the widow's cap. Blushing, panting, struggling, chiding, laugh ing, her warm breath fanning each of their faces by turns, she strove to disengage her self, yet still remained in their triple em brace. Never was there a livelier picture of youthful rivalship, with bewitching beauty for the prize. Yet, by a strange deception, owing to the duskiness of the chamber, and the antique dresses which they still wore, the tall mirror is said to have reflected the figures of the three old, gray, withered grandsires, ridiculously contending for the skinny ugli ness of a shrivelled grandam. 16 Dr. Heidegger's Experiment But they were young: their burning pas sions proved them so. Inflamed to madness by the coquetry of the girl-widow, who neither granted nor quite withheld her fa vors, the three rivals began to interchange threatening glances. Still keeping hold of the fair prize, they grappled fiercely at one another's throats. As they struggled to and fro, the table was overturned, and the vase dashed into a thousand fragments. The pre cious Water of Youth flowed in a bright stream across the floor, moistening the wings of a butterfly, which, grown old in the decline of summer, had alighted there to die. The insect fluttered lightly through the chamber, and settled on the snowy head of Dr. Hei degger. "Come, come, gentlemen! come, Madam Wycherly," exclaimed the doctor, " I really must protest against this riot." They stood still and shivered; for it seemed as if gray Time were calling them back from their sunny youth, far down into the chill and darksome vale of years. They looked at old Dr. Heidegger, who sat in his carved arm-chair, holding the rose of half a century, which he had rescued from among the frag ments of the shattered vase. At the motion of his hand, the four rioters resumed their seats; the more readily, because their violent exertions had wearied them, youthful though they were. 17 Nathaniel Hawthorne "My poor Sylvia's rose!' ejaculated Dr. Heidegger, holding it in the light of the sun set clouds; " it appears to be fading again." And so it was. Even while the party were looking at it, the flower continued to shrivel up, till it became as dry and fragile as when the doctor had first thrown it into the vase. He shook off the few drops of moisture which clung to its petals. " I love it as well thus, as in its dewy fresh ness," observed he, pressing the withered rose to his withered lips. While he spoke, the butterfly fluttered down from the doctor's snowy head, and fell upon the floor. His guests shivered again. A strange chill- ness, whether of the body or spirit they could not tell, was creeping gradually over them all. They gazed at one another, and fancied that each fleeting moment snatched away a charm, and left a deepening furrow where none had been before. Was it an illusion? Had the changes of a lifetime been crowded into so brief a space, and were they now four aged people, sitting with their old friend, Dr. Heidegger? " Are we grown old again, so soon? " cried they, dolefully. In truth, they had. The Water of Youth possessed merely a virtue more transient than that of wine. The delirium which it created had effervesced away. Yes! they were old again. With a shuddering impulse, 18 Dr. Heidegger's Experiment that showed her a woman still, the widow clasped her skinny hands before her face, and wished that the coffin-lid were over it, since it could be no longer beautiful. " Yes, friends, ye are old again," said Dr. Heidegger; "and lo! the Water of Youth is all lavished on the ground. Well, I bemoan it not; for if the fountain gushed at my very doorstep, I would not stoop to bathe my lips in it; no, though its delirium were for years instead of moments. Such is the lesson ye have taught me! " But the doctor's four friends had taught no such lesson to themselves. They resolved forthwith to make a pilgrimage to Florida, and quaff at morning, noon, and night from the Fountain of Youth. NOTE. In an English Review, not long since, I have been accused of plagiarizing the idea of this story from a chapter in one of the novels of Alexandre Dumas. There has un doubtedly been a plagiarism on one side or the other ; but as my story was written a good deal more than twenty years ago, and as the novel is of considerably more recent date, I take pleasure in thinking that M. Dumas has done me the honor to appropriate one of the fanciful conceptions of my earlier days. He is heartily welcome to it ; nor is it the only instance, by many, in which the great French romancer has exercised the privilege of commanding genius by confiscating the intellectual property of less famous people to his own use and behoof. September, 1860. 19 The Birthmark The Birthmark IN the latter part of the last century there lived a man of science, an eminent proficient in every branch of natural philosophy, who not long before our story opens had made experience of a spiritual affinity more at tractive than any chemical one. He had left his laboratory to the care of an assistant, cleared his fine countenance from the fur nace-smoke, washed the stain of acids from his fingers, and persuaded a beautiful woman to become his wife. In those days, when the comparatively recent discovery of electricity and other kindred mysteries of Nature seemed to open paths into the region of miracle, it was not unusual for the love of science to rival the love of woman in its depth and absorbing energy. The higher intellect, the imagination, the spirit, and even the heart might all find their congenial aliment in pursuits which, as some of their ardent votaries believed, would ascend from one step of powerful intelligence to another, until the philosopher should lay his hand on the secret of creative force and perhaps make new 23 Nathaniel Hawthorne worlds for himself. We know not whether Aylmer possessed this degree of faith in man's ultimate control over nature. He had devoted himself, however, too unreservedly to scientific studies ever to be weakened from them by any second passion. His love for his young wife might prove the stronger of the two; but it could only be by intertwining itself with his love of science and uniting the strength of the latter to his own. Such a union accordingly took place, and was attended with truly remarkable conse quences and a deeply impressive moral. One day, very soon after their marriage, Aylmer sat gazing at his wife with a trouble in his countenance that grew stronger until he spoke. " Georgiana," said he, " has it never oc curred to you that the mark upon your cheek might be removed? " " No, indeed," said she, smiling; but, per ceiving the seriousness of his manner, she blushed deeply. " To tell you the truth, it has been so often called a charm, that I vas simple enough to imagine it might be so." " Ah, upon another face perhaps it might," replied her husband; " but never on yours. No, dearest Georgiana, you came so nearly perfect from the hand of Nature, that this slightest possible defect, which we hesitate whether to term a defect or a beauty, shocks 24 The Birthmark me, as being the visible mark of earthly im perfection." "Shocks you, my husband! ' cried Geor- giana, deeply hurt; at first reddening with momentary anger, but then bursting into tears. " Then why did you take me from my mother's side? You cannot love what shocks you! " To explain this conversation, it must be mentioned that in the centre of Georgiana's left cheek there was a singular mark, deeply interwoven, as it were, with the texture and substance of her face. In the usual state of her complexion a healthy though delicate bloom the mark wore a tint of deeper crim son, which imperfectly defined its shape amid the surrounding rosiness. When she blushed it gradually became more indistinct, and finally vanished amid the triumphant rush of blood that bathed the whole cheek with its brilliant glow. But if any shifting motion caused her to turn pale there was the mark again, a crimson stain upon the snow, in what Aylmer sometimes deemed an almost fearful distinctness. Its shape bore not a little similarity to the human hand, though of the smallest pygmy size. Georgiana's lovers were wont to say that some fairy at her birth- hour had laid her tiny hand upon the infant's cheek, and left this impress there in token of the magic endowments that were to give her such sway over all hearts. Many a desperate 25 Nathaniel Hawthorne swain would have risked life for the privilege of pressing his lips to the mysterious hand. It must not be concealed, however, that the impression wrought by this fairy sign- manual varied exceedingly according to the difference of temperament in the beholders. Some fastidious persons but they were ex clusively of her own sex affirmed that the bloody hand, as they chose to call it, quite de stroyed the effect of Georgiana's beauty and rendered her countenance even hideous. But it would be as reasonable to say that one of those small blue stains which sometimes oc cur in the purest statuary marble would con vert the Eve of Powers to a monster. Mas culine observers, if the birthmark did not heighten their admiration, contented them selves with wishing it away, that the world might possess one living specimen of ideal loveliness without the semblance of a flaw. After his marriage, for he thought little or nothing of the matter before, Aylmer dis covered that this was the case with him self. Had she been less beautiful, if Envy's self could have found aught else to sneer at, he might have felt his affection heightened by the prettiness of this mimic hand, now vaguely portrayed, now lost, now stealing forth again and glimmering to and fro with every pulse of emotion that throbbed within her heart; but, seeing her otherwise so per- 26 The Birthmark feet, lie found this one defect grow more and more intolerable with every moment of their united lives. It was the fatal flaw of human ity which Nature, in one shape or another, stamps ineffaceably on all her productions, either to imply that they are temporary and finite, or that their perfection must be wrought by toil and pain. The crimson hand expressed the ineludible gripe in which mor tality clutches the highest and purest of earthly mould, degrading them into kindred with the lowest, and even with the very brutes, like whom their visible frames return to dust. In this manner, selecting it as the symbol of his wife's liability to sin, sorrow, decay, and death, Aylmer's sombre imagina tion was not long in rendering the birthmark a frightful object, causing him more trouble and horror than ever Georgiana's beauty, whether of soul or sense, had given him delight. At all the seasons which should have been their happiest he invariably, and without in tending it, nay, in spite of a purpose 'to the contrary, reverted to this one disastrous topic. Trifling as it at first appeared, it so connected itself with innumerable trains of thought and modes of feeling that it became the central point of all. With the morning twilight Aylmer opened his eyes upon his wife's face and recognized the symbol of im perfection; and when they sat together at the 27 Nathaniel Hawthorne evening hearth his eyes wandered stealthily to her cheek, and beheld, flickering with the blaze of the wood-fire, the spectral hand that wrote mortality where he would fain have worshipped. Georgiana soon learned to shudder a,t his gaze. It needed but a glance with the peculiar expression that his face often wore to change the roses of her cheek into a death-like paleness, amid which the crimson hand was brought strongly out, like a bas-relief of ruby on the whitest marble. Late one night, when the lights were grow ing dim so as hardly to betray the stain on the poor wife's cheek, she herself, for the first time, voluntarily took up the subject. " Do you remember, my dear Aylmer," said she, with a feeble attempt at a smile, " have you any recollection, of a dream last night about this odious hand? " "None! none whatever! " replied Aylmer, starting; but then he added, in a dry, cold tone, affected for the sake of concealing the real depth of his emotion, " I might well dream of it; for, before I fell asleep, it had taken a pretty firm hold of my fancy." " And you did dream of it? " continued Georgiana, hastily; for she dreaded lest a gush of tears should interrupt what she had to say. "A terrible dream! I wonder that you can forget it. Is it possible to forget this one expression? ' It is in her heart now; we must have it out! ' Reflect, my husband; 28 The Birthmark for by all means I would have you recall that dream." The mind is in a sad state when Sleep, the all-involving, cannot confine her spectres within the dim region of her sway, but suf fers them to break forth, affrighting this actual life with secrets that perchance belong to a deeper one. Aylmer now remembered his dream. He had fancied himself with his servant Aminadab attempting an operation for the removal of the birthmark; but the deeper went the knife, the deeper sank the hand, until at length its tiny grasp appeared to have caught hold of Georgiana's heart; whence, however, her husband was inexor ably resolved to cut or wrench it away. When the dream had shaped itself perfectly in his memory, Aylmer sat in his wife's pres ence with a guilty feeling. Truth often finds its way to the mind close muffled in robes of sleep, and then speaks with uncompromising directness of matters in regard to which we practise an unconscious self-deception during our waking moments. Until now he had not been aware of the tyrannizing influence ac quired by one idea over his mind, and of the lengths which he might find in his heart to go for the sake of giving himself peace. " Aylmer," resumed Georgiana, solemnly, " I know not what may be the cost to both of us to rid me of this fatal birthmark. Per haps its removal may cause cureless de- 29 Nathaniel Hawthorne formity; or it may be the stain goes as deep as life itself. Again: do we know that there is a possibility, on any terms, of unclasping the firm gripe of this little hand which was laid upon me before I came into the world? ' " Dearest Georgiana, I have spent much thought upon the subject," hastily inter rupted Aylmer. " I am convinced of the perfect practicability of its removal." " If there be the remotest possibility of it," continued Georgiana, " let the attempt be made, at whatever risk. Danger is nothing to me; for life, while this hateful mark makes me the object of your horror and disgust, life is a burden which I would fling down with joy. Either remove this dreadful hand, or take my wretched life! You have deep science. All the world bears witness of it. You have achieved great wonders. Cannot you remove this little, little mark, which J cover with the tips of two small fingers? Is this beyond your power, for the sake of your own peace, and to save your poor wife from madness? " " Noblest, dearest, tenderest wife," cried Aylmer, rapturously, " doubt not my power. I have already given this matter the deepest thought, thought which might almost have enlightened me to create a being less perfect than yourself. Georgiana, you have led me deeper than ever into the heart of science. I feel myself fully competent to render this 30 The Birthmark dear cheek as faultless as its fellow; and then, most beloved, what will be my triumph when I shall have corrected what Nature left imperfect in her fairest work! Even Pyg malion, when his sculptured woman assumed life, felt not greater ecstasy than mine will be." " It is resolved, then," said Georgiana, faintly smiling. " And, Aylmer, spare me not, though you should find the birthmark take refuge in my heart at last." Her husband tenderly kissed her cheek, her right cheek, not that which bore the im press of the crimson hand. The next day Aylmer apprised his wife of a plan that he had formed whereby he might have opportunity for the intense thought and constant watchfulness which the proposed operation would require; while Georgiana, likewise, would enjoy the perfect repose es sential to its, success. They were to seclude themselves in the extensive apartments oc cupied by Aylmer as a laboratory, and where, during his toilsome youth, he had made dis coveries in the elemental powers of nature that had roused the admiration of all the learned societies in Europe. Seated calmly in this laboratory, the pale philosopher had investigated the secrets of the highest cloud- region and of the profoundest mines; he had satisfied himself of the causes that kindled and kept alive the fires of the volcano; and 31 Nathaniel Hawthorne had explained the mystery of fountains, and how it is that they gush forth, some so bright and pure, and others with such rich medicinal virtues, from the dark bosom of the earth. Here, too, at an earlier period, he had studied the wonders of the human frame, and at tempted to fathom the very process by which Nature assimilates all her precious in fluences from earth and air, and from the spiritual world, to create and foster man, her masterpiece. The latter pursuit, however, Aylmer had long laid aside in unwilling recognition of the truth against which all seekers sooner or later stumble that our great creative Mother, while she amuses us with apparently working in the broadest sun shine, is yet severely careful to keep her own secrets, and, in spite of her pretended open ness, shows us nothing but results. She per mits us, indeed, to mar, but seldom to mend, and, like a jealous patentee, on no account to make. Now, however, Aylmer resumed these half-forgotten investigations; not, of course, with such hopes or wishes as first suggested them; but because they involved much physi ological truth and lay in the path of his pro posed scheme for the treatment of Georgiana. As he led her over the threshold of the laboratory Georgiana was cold and tremu lous. Aylmer looked cheerfully into her face, with intent to reassure her, but was so startled with the intense glow of the birth- 32 The Birthmark mark upon the whiteness of her cheek that he could not restrain a strong convulsive shudder. His wife fainted. "Aminadab! Aminadab! " shouted Ayl- mer, stamping violently on the floor. Forthwith there issued from an inner apartment a man of low stature, but bulky frame, with shaggy hair hanging about his visage, which was grimed with the vapors of the furnace. This personage had been Ayl- mer's underworker during his whole scientific career, and was admirably fitted for that office by his great mechanical readiness, and the skill with which, while incapable of com prehending a single principle, he executed all the details of his master's experiments. With his vast strength, his shaggy hair, his smoky aspect, and the indescribable earthiness that incrusted him, he seemed to represent man's physical nature ; while Aylmer's slender figure, and pale, intellectual face, were no less apt a type of the .spiritual element. " Throw open the door of the boudoir, Aminadab," said Aylmer, " and burn a pastil." " Yes, master," answered Aminadab, look ing intently at the lifeless form of Geor- giana; and then he muttered to himself, "If she were my wife, I'd never part with that birthmark." When Georgiana recovered consciousness she found herself breathing an atmosphere 33 Nathaniel Hawthorne of penetrating fragrance, the gentle potency of which had recalled her from her death-like faintness. The scene around her looked like enchantment. Aylmer had converted those smoky, dingy, sombre rooms, where he had -spent his brightest years in recondite pur suits, into a series of beautiful apartments not unfit to be the secluded abode of a lovely woman. The walls were hung with gorgeous curtains, which imparted the combination of grandeur and grace that no other species of adornment can achieve; and, as they fell from the ceiling to the floor, their rich and ponderous folds, concealing all angles and straight lines, appeared to shut in the scene from infinite space. For aught Georgiana knew, it might be a pavilion among the clouds. And Aylmer, excluding the sunshine, which would have interfered with his chem ical processes, had supplied its place with perfumed lamps, emitting flames of various hue, but all uniting in a soft, impurpled radiance. He now knelt by his wife's side, watching her earnestly, but without alarm; for he was confident in his science, and felt that he could draw a magic circle round her within which no evil might intrude. "Where am I? Ah, I remember," said Georgiana, faintly; and she placed her hand over her cheek to hide the terrible mark from her husband's eyes. "Fear not, dearest! " exc lr