{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3439", "width": "2053", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3493", "width": "2075", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE\u00e2\u0080\u0099S WORKS.\\nNEW ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY EDITION.\\nEleven vols. i2ino. Price, per voL\\nTwice-Told Tales.\\nMosses from an Old Manse.\\nTlie Scarlet Letter, and The\\nBlithedale Romance.\\nThe House of the Seven Gables,\\nand the Snow Image.\\nThe Marble Faun.\\n$2.00\\nEnglish Note-Books.\\nAmerican Note-Books.\\nFrench and Italian Note-Books.\\nOur Old Home, and Septimius\\nFelton.\\nThe Wonder Book, etc.\\nTanglewood Tales, etc.\\nHOUSEHOLD EDITION.\\nComplete, 23 vols on Tinted Paper, in Box 34-50\\nSEPARATE WORKS.\\nOUR OLD HOME. i6ino\\nTHE MARBLE FAUN. 2 vols. i6mo\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER. i6mo\\nTHE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN GABLES. i6mo\\nTWICE-TOLD TALES. With Portrait. 2 vols. 161110\\nTHE SNOW-IMAGE, and Other Twice-Told Tales\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE i6mo\\nMOSSES FROM AN OLD MANSE. 2 vols. i6mo\\nAMERICAN NOTE-BOOKS. 2 vols. i6mo\\nENGLISH NOTE-BOOKS. 2 vols. i6mo\\nFRENCH AND ITALIAN NOTE-BOOKS. 2 vols. i6mo..\\nSEPTIMIUS FELTON or. The Elixir of Li/e. i6mo\\nFANSHA WE, and Other Pieces. i6mo\\nTHE DOLLIVER ROM ANCE. and Other Pieces. i6mo....\\nTIVICE-TOLD TALES. With Portrait. Blue and Gold. 2 vols.\\n$1.50\\n3-oo\\n1.50\\n1.50\\n300\\n1.50\\n1.50\\n3 -oo\\n3.00\\n3 00\\n300\\n1 5\\n1.50\\n1.50\\n32m o\\n2.50\\nJUVENILES.\\nTRUE STORIES FROM HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.\\nIllustrated. i6mo 1.50\\nTHE WONDER-BOOK Illustrated. i6mo j. 5 o\\nTANGLEWOOD TALES. Illustrated. i6mo\\nFor sale by all Booksellers. Sent, post-paid, on receipt 0/ price\\nby the Publishers,\\nHOUGHTON, OSGOOD CO., Boston.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "The Scarlet Letter See page 108", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "ajatotljornc\u00e2\u0080\u0099s HJorlts.\\nILLUSTRATED LIBRARY EDITION.\\nTHE\\nSCARLET LETTER,\\nAND\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nBY\\nNATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.\\nH\\nTWO VOLUMES IN ONE.\\nBOSTON:\\nHOUGHTON, OSGOOD AND COMPANY.\\nW%e ftttat e Itas, (tatbritige.\\n1879.", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "T 2 3\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2l-bu Sc\\nt i\\n1\\nCOPYRIGHT, 1850.\\nBy NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.\\nCopyright, 1878.\\nBy ROSE HAWTHORNE LATHROP.\\n-v\\nUniversity Press:\\nWelch, Bigelow, and Company,\\nCambridge.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "PREFACE\\nTO THE SECOND EDITION\\nMuch to the author\u00e2\u0080\u0099s surprise, and (if he may say\\nbo without additional offence) considerably to his\\namusement, he finds that his sketch of official life,\\nmtroductory to The Scarlet Letter, has created\\nan unprecedented excitement in the respectable\\ncommunity immediately around him. It could\\nhardly have been more violent, indeed, had he\\nburned down the Custom-House, and quenched its\\nlast smoking ember in the blood of a certain ven-\\nerable personage, against whom he is supposed to\\ncheiish a peculiar malevolence. As the public\\ndisapprobation would weigh very heavily on him,\\nwere he conscious of deserving it, the author begs\\nleave to say, that he has carefully read over the in-\\ntroductory pages, with a purpose to alter or expunge\\nwhatever might be found amiss, and to make the\\nbest reparation in his power for the atrocities of\\nwhich he has been adjudged guilty. But it\\nappears to him, that the only remarkable features\\nof the sketch are its frank and genuine good-", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "PREFACE.\\niY\\nhumor, and the general accuracy with which ne\\nhas conveyed his sincere impressions of the char-\\nacters therein described. As to enmity, or ill-\\nfeeling of any kind, personal or political, he\\nutterly disclaims such motives. The sketch\\nmight, perhaps, have been wholly omitted, with-\\nout loss to the public or detriment to the book;\\nbut, having undertaken to write it, he conceives\\nthat it could not have been done in a better or a\\nkindlier spirit, nor, so far as his abilities availed,\\nwith a livelier effect of truth.\\nThe author is constrained, therefore, tc repub-\\nlish his introductory sketch without the wmge of\\na word.\\nSalim, March 30, 18M", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "THE SCARLET LETTER,\\nA ROMANCE.", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nfMI\\nThe Custom House. Introductory l\\nI. The Prison-door .53\\nII. The Market-place 55\\nIII. The Recognition 68\\nIV. The Interview 80\\nV. Hester at her Needle 89\\nVI. Pearl 101\\nVII. The Governor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Hall .114\\nVIII. The Elf -Child and the Minister 123\\nIX. The Leech .135\\nX. The Leech and his Patient 148\\nXI. The Interior or a Heart 161\\nXII. The Minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Vigil 170\\nXIII. Another View of Hester 184\\nXIV. Hester and the Physician 195\\nXV. Hester and Pearl 204\\nXVI. A Forest Walk 213\\nXVII. The Pastor and his Parishioner 221\\nXVHI. A Flood of Sunshine 233\\nXIX. The Child at the Briok side 241\\nA*", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nS\\nPAOE\\nXX The Minister in a Maze 2 J\\nXXL The New England Holiday .264\\nXXII. The Procession 276\\nXXIII. The Revelation of the Scarlet Letter 289\\nXXIV. Conclusion", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\nINTRODUCTORY TO THE SCARLET LETTER.\\nIt is a little remarkable, that though disinclined to\\ntalk overmuch of myself and my affairs at the fireside,\\nand to my personal friends an autobiographical im-\\npulse should twice in my life have taken possession of\\nme, in addressing the public. The first time was three\\nor four years since, when 1 favored the reader inex-\\ncusably, and for no earthly reason, that either the in-\\ndulgent reader or the intrusive author could imagine\\nwith a description of my way of life in the deep qui-\\netude of an Old Manse. And i ow because, beyond\\nmy deserts, I was happy enougi. to find a listener or\\ntwo on the former occasion I again seize the public by\\nthe button, and talk of my three years\u00e2\u0080\u0099 experience in a\\nCustom-House. The example of the famous \u00e2\u0080\u009cP. P.,\\nClerk of this Parish,\u00e2\u0080\u009d was never more faithfully fol-\\nlowed. The truth seems to be, however, that, when he\\ncasts his leaves forth upon the wind, the author addresses,\\nnot the many who will fling aside his volume, or never\\ntake it up, but the few who will understand him, better\\nthan most of his schoolmates or litemates. Some au*\\njhors, indeed, do far more than this, and indulge tnem-\\n1", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "a\\nTHE SCARLET LEI TER.\\nstives in such confidential depths of revelation as could\\nfittingly be addressed, only and exclusively, to the one\\nheart and mind of perfect sympathy as if the printed\\nbook, thrown at large on the wide world, were certain to\\nfind out the divided segment of the writer\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own nature,\\nand complete his circle of existence by bringing him into\\ncommunion with it. It is scarcely decorous, however,\\nto speak all, even where we speak impersonally. But,\\nas thoughts are frozen and utterance benumbed, unless\\nthe speaker stand in some true relation with his au-\\ndience, it may be pardonable to imagine that a friend,\\na kind and apprehensive, though not the closest friend,\\nis listening to our talk and then, a native reserve being\\nthawed by this genial consciousness, we may prate of\\nthe circumstances that lie around us, and even of ourself,\\nbut still keep the inmost Me behind its veil. To this\\nextent, and within these limits, an author, methinks, may\\nbe autobiographical, without violating either the reader\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nrights or his own.\\nIt will be seen, likewise, that this Custom-House\\nsketch has a certain propriety, of a kind always recog-\\nnized in literature, as explaining how a large portion of\\nthe following pages came into my possession, and as\\noffering proofs of the authenticity of a narrative therein\\ncontained. This, in fact, a desire to put myself in\\nmy true position as editor, or very little more, of the\\nmost prolix among the tales that make up my volume,\\nhis, and no other, is my true reason for assuming a\\npersonal relation with the public. In accomplishing the\\nmain purpose, it has appeared allowable, by a few extra\\ntouches, to give a faint representation of a mode of life\\nnot heretofore described, together with some of the chai", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\n3\\nmeters that move in it, among whom the authoi hap*\\npened to make one.\\nIn my native town of Salem, at the head of what,\\nhalf a century ago, in the days of old King Derby, was\\na bustling wharf, but which is now burdened with\\ndecayed wooden warehouses, and exhibits few or no\\nsymptoms of commercial life except, perhaps, a bark or\\nbrig, half-way down its melancholy length, discharging\\nhides or, nearer at hand, a Nova Scotia schooner, pitch-\\ning out her cargo of fire-wood, at the head, I say,\\nof this dilapidated wharf, which the tide often overflows,\\nand along which, at the base and in the rear of the row\\nof buildings, the track of many languid years is seen in\\na border of unthrifty grass, here, with a view from its\\nfront windows adown this not very enlivening prospect,\\nand thence across the harbor, stands a spacious edifice\\nof brick. From the loftiest point of its roof, during pre-\\ncisely three and a half hours of each forenoon, floats or\\ndroops, in breeze or calm, the banner of the republic\\nbut with the thirteen stripes turned vertically, instead of\\nhorizontally, and thus indicating that a civil, and not a\\nmilitary post of Uncle Sam\u00e2\u0080\u0099s government, is here estab-\\nlished. Its front is ornamented with a portico of half a\\ndozen wooden pillars, supporting a balcony, beneath\\nwhich a flight of wide granite steps descends towards the\\nstreet. Over the entrance hovers an enormous specimen\\nof the American eagle, with outspread wings, a shield\\nbefore her breast, and, if I recollect aright, a bunch of\\nintermingled thunderbolts and barbed arrows in each\\nclaw. With the customary infirmity of temper that\\ncharacterizes this unhappy fowl, she appears, by th\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "1\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nfierceness of her beak and eye, and the general trucu\\nlency of her attitude, to threaten mischief to the inoffen-\\nsive community; and especially to warn all citizens,\\ncareful of their safety, against intruding on the premises\\nwhich she overshadows with her wings. Nevertheless,\\nvixenly as she looks, many people are seeking, at this\\nvery moment, to shelter themselves under the wing of\\nthe federal eagle imagining, I presume, that her bosom\\nhas all the softness and snugness of an eider-down pil-\\nlow. But she has no great tenderness, even in her best\\nof moods, and, sooner or later, oftener soon than late,\\nis apt to fling off her nestlings, with a scratch of her\\nclaw, a dab of her beak, or a rankling wound from her\\nbarbed a; rows.\\nThe pavement round about the above-described edifice\\nwhich we may as well name at once as the Custom-\\nHouse of the port has grass enough growing in its\\nchinks to show that it has not, of late days, been worn\\nby any multitudinous resort of business. In some months\\nof the year, however, there often chances a forenoon when\\naffairs move onward with a livelier tread. Such occa-\\nsions might remind the elderly citizen of that period,\\nbefore the last war with England, when Salem was a\\nport by itself not scorned, as she is now, by her own\\nmerchants and ship-owners, who permit her wharves to\\ncrumble to ruin, while their ventures go to swell, need-\\nlessly and imperceptibly, the mighty flood of commerce,\\nat New York or Boston. On some such morning, when\\nthree or four vessels happen to have arrived at once,\\nusually from Africa or South America, or to be on the\\nverge of their departure thitherward, there is a sound\\nof frequent feet, parsing briskly rp and down thv\u00c2\u00bb granite", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "5\\nTHE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\nsteps. Here, before his own wife has greeted him, you\\nmay greet the sea- flushed ship-master, just in port, with\\nhis vessel\u00e2\u0080\u0099s papers under his arm, in a tarnished tin box.\\nHere, too, comes his owner, cheerful or sombre, gracious\\nor in the sulks, accordingly as his scheme of the now\\naccomplished voyage has been realized in merchandise\\nthat will readily be turned to gold, or has buried him\\nunder a bulk of incommodities, such as nobody wil. care\\nto rid him of Here, likewise, the germ of the wrin-\\nkle-browed, grizzly-bearded, care-worn merchant, we\\nhave the smart young clerk, who gets the taste of traffic\\nas a wolf-cub does of blood, and already sends adven-\\ntures in his master\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ships, when he had better be sailing\\nmimic-boats upon a mill-pond. Another figure in the\\nscene is the outward-bound sailor j in quest of a protec-\\ntion or the recently arrived one, pale and feeble, seek-\\ning a passport to the hospital. Nor must we forget tb\\ncaptains of the rusty little schooners that bring fire-wouv\\nfrom the British provinces a rough-looking set of tar-\\npaulins, without the alertness of the Yankee aspect, but\\ncontributing an item of no slight importance to our\\ndecaying trade.\\nCluster all these individuals together, as they some-\\ntimes were, with other miscellaneous ones to diversify\\nthe group, and, for the time being, it made the Custom-\\nHouse a stirring scene. More frequently, however, on\\nascending the steps, you would discern in the entry,\\nif it were summer time, or in their appropriate rooms,\\nif wintry or inclement weather a row of venerable\\nfigures, sitting in old-fashioned chairs, which were tipped\\non their hind legs back against the wall. Oftentimes\\nthey were asleep but occasionally might be heard talk-", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "6\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\n\\\\ng together, !n voices between speech and a snore, and\\nwith that lack of energy that distinguishes the occupants\\nof alms-houses, and all other human beings who depend\\nfor subsistence on charity, on monopolized labor, or any-\\nthing else but their own independent exertions. These\\nold gentlemen seated, like Matthew, at the receipt of\\ncustoms, but not very liable to be summoned thence,\\nlike him, for apostolic errands were Custom-House\\nofficers.\\nFurthermore, on the left hand as you enter the front\\ndoor, is a certain room or office, about fifteen feet square,\\nand of a lofty height with two of its arched windows\\ncommanding a view of the aforesaid dilapidated wharf,\\nand the third looking across a narrow lane, and along a\\nportion of Derby-street. All three give glimpses of the\\nshops of grocers, block-makers, slop-sellers, and ship-\\nchandlers around the doors of which are generally to\\nbe seen, laughing and gossiping, clusters of old salts,\\nand such other wharf-rats as haunt the Wapping of a\\nseaport. The room itself is cobwebbed, and dingy with\\nold paint its floor is strewn with gray sand, in a\\nfashion that has elsewhere fallen into long disuse and\\nit is easy to conclude, from the general slovenliness of\\nthe place, that this is a sanctuary into which woman-\\nkind, with her tools of magic, the broom and mop, has\\nvery infrequent access. In the way of furniture, there\\nis i stove with a voluminous funnel an old pine desk,\\nwith a three-legged stool beside it two or three wooden-\\nbottom chairs, exceedingly decrepit and infirm and\\nnot to forget the library on some shelves, a score oj\\ntwo oi volumes of the Acts of Congress, and a bulky\\nDigest of the Revenue Laws. A tin pipe ascends through", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "THE CDSTOM-UOUSE.\\n1\\nthe ceiling, and forms a medium of vocal communication\\nwith other parts of the edifice. And here, some six\\nmontns ago, pacing from corner to corner, or lounging\\non the long-legged stool, with his elbow on the desk,\\nand his eyes wandering up and down the columnj of\\nthe morning newspaper, you might have recognized,\\nhonored reader, the same individual who* welcomed you\\ninto his cheery little study, where the sunshine glim-\\nmered so pleasantly through the willow branches, on the\\nwestern side of the Old Manse. But now. should you\\ngo thither to seek him, you would inquire in vain for the\\nLocofoco Surveyor. The besom of reform has swept\\nhim out of office and a worthier successor wears his\\ndignity, and pockets his emoluments.\\nThis old town of Salem my native place, though 1\\nhave dwelt much away from it, both in boyhood and\\nmaturer years possesses, or did possess, a hold on my\\naffections, the force of which I have never realized dur-\\ning my seasons of actual residence here. Indeed, so far\\nae its physical aspect is concerned, with its flat, unvaried\\nsurface, covered chiefly with wooden houses, few or none\\nof which pretend to architectural beauty, its irregu-\\nlarity, which is neither picturesque nor quaint, but only\\ntame, its long and lazy street, lounging wearisomely\\nthrough the whole extent of the peninsula, with Gallows\\nHill and New Guinea at one end, and a view of the\\nalms-house at the other, such being the features of\\nmy native town, it would be quite as reasonable to form\\na sentimental attachment to a disarranged checker-board.\\nAnd yet, though invariably happiest elsewhere, there is\\nwithin me a feeling for old Salem, which, in lack of a\\nbetter phrase, I must be content to call affection. The", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "8\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nsentiment is probably assignable to tbe deep ana aged\\nroots which my family has struck into the soil. It is\\nnow nearly two centuries and a quarter since the origi-\\nnal Briton, the earliest emigrant of my name, made his\\nappearance in the wild and forest-bordered settlement,\\nwhich has since become a city. And here his descend-\\nants have been born and died, and have mingled their\\nearthy substance with the soil until no small portion\\nof it must necessarily be akin to the mortal frame where-\\nwith, for a little while, I walk the streets. In part, there-\\nfore, the attachment which I speak of is the mere sensu-\\nous sympathy of dust for dust. Few of my countrymen\\ncan know what it is nor, as frequent transplantation is\\nperhaps better for the stock, need they consider it desir-\\nnble to know.\\nBut the sentiment has likewise its moral quality. The\\nfigure of that first ancestor, invested by family tradition\\nwith a dim and dusky grandeur, was present to my boy-\\nish imagination, as far back as I can remember. It still\\nhaunts me, and induces a sort of home-feeling with the\\npast, which I scarcely claim in reference to the present\\nphase of the town. I seem to have a stronger claim to\\njl residence here on account of this grave, bearded, sable-\\ncloaked and steeple-crowned progenitor, who came so\\nearly, with his Bible and his sword, and trode the un-\\nworn street with such a stately port, and made so large\\na figure, as a man of war and peace, a stronger claim\\nthan for myself, whose name is seldom heard and my\\nfaca hardly known. He was a soldier, legislator, judge*\\nhe was a ruler in the Church he had all the Puritanic\\ntraits, both good and evil. He was likewise a bettel\\npersecutor as witness the Quakers, whc have remem*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-11 JUSE.\\n9\\nbered him in their histories, and relate an incident of\\nbis hard severity towards a woman of their sect, which\\nwill last longer, it is to be feared, than any record of his\\nbetter deeds, although these w r ere many. His son, too,\\ninherited the persecuting spirit, and made himself so\\nconspicuous in the martyrdom of the witches, that theii\\nblood may fairly be said to have left a stain upon him.\\nSo deep a stain, indeed, that his old dry bones, in the\\nCharter-street burial-ground, must still retain it, if they\\nhave not crumbled utterly to dust I know not whether\\nthese ancestors of mine bethought themselves to repent,\\nand ask pardon of heaven for their cruelties or whether\\nthey are now groaning under the heavy consequences\\nof them, in another state of being. At all events, I, the\\npresent writer, as their representative, hereby take shame\\nupon myself for their sakes, and pray that any curse\\nincurred by them as 1 have heard, and as the dreary\\nand unprosperous condition of the race, for many a long\\nyear back, would argue to exist may be now and\\nhenceforth removed.\\nDoubtless, however, either of these stem and black\\nbrowed Puritans would have thought it quite a suffi-\\ncient retribution for his sins, that, after so Jong a lapse\\nof years, the old trunk of the family tree, with so much\\nvenerable moss upon it, should have borne, as its top-\\nmost bough, an idler like myself. No aim, that I have\\never cherished, would they recognize as laudable; no\\nsuccess of mine if my life, beyond its domestic scope,\\nhad ever been brightened by success would they deem\\notherwise than worthless, if not positively disgraceful.\\nWhat is he murmurs one gray shadow of my fore*\\nfatheis to the other. \u00e2\u0080\u009cA writer of story-books! What", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "10\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nkind of a business in life, what mode of glorifying\\nGod, or being serviceable to mankind in his day and\\ngeneration, may that be Why, the degenerate fel-\\niow might as well have been a fiddler Such are the\\ncompliments bandied between my great-grandsires and\\nmyself, across the gulf of time And yet, let them scorn\\nme as they will, strong traits of their nature have inter-\\ntwined themselves with mine.\\nPlanted deep, in the townTearliest infancy and child-\\nhood, by these two earnest and energetic men, the race\\nhas ever since subsisted here always, too, in respecta-\\nbility never, so far as I have known, disgraced by a\\nsingle unworthy member but seldom or never, on the\\nother hand, after the first two generations, performing\\nany memorable deed, or so much as putting forward a\\nclaim to public notice. Gradually, they have sunk\\nalmost, out of sight as old houses, here and there about\\n.he streets, get covered half-way to the eaves by the\\naccumulation of new soil. From father to son, for above\\na hundred years, they followed the sea a gray-headed\\nshipmaster, in each generation, retiring from the quarter-\\ndeck to the homestead, while a boy of fourteen took the\\nhereditary place before the mast, confronting the salt\\nspray and the gale, which had blustered against his sire\\nand grandsire. The boy, also, m due time, passed\\nfrom the forecastle to the cabin, spent a tempestuous\\nmanhood, and returned from his world-wanderings, to\\ngrow old, and die, and mingle his dust with the natal\\nearth. This long connection of a family with one spot,\\nas its place of birth and burial, creates a kindred between\\nthe human being and the locality, quite independent of\\nany charm in the scenery or moral circumstances thv", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\nsurround him. It is not lcrve, but instinct. Tin? new\\ninhabitant who came himself from a foreign land, oi\\nwhose father or grandfather came has little claim 10\\nOo called a Salemite he has no conception of the oyster-\\ntik* 1 tenacity with which an old settler, over whom his\\nthird century is creeping, clings to the spot wht re his\\nsuccessive generations have been imbedded. It is no\\nmatter that the place is joyless for him that he is weary\\nof the oil wooden houses, the mud and dust, the dead\\nlevel of site and sentiment, the chill east wind, and the\\nchillest of social atmospheres all these, and whatever\\nfaults besides he may see or imagine, are nothing to the\\npurpose. The spell survives, and just as powerfully as\\nif the natal spot were an earthly paradise. So has it\\nbeen in my case. I felt it almost as a destiny to make\\nSalem my home so that the mould of features and cast\\nof character which had all along been familiar here\\never, as one representative of the race lay down in his\\ngrave, another assuming, as it were, his sentry-march\\nalong the main street might still in my little day be\\neen and recognized in the old town. Nevertheless, this\\nvery sentiment is an evidence that the connection, which\\nhas become an unhealthy one, should at least be severed\\nHuman nature will not flourish, any more than a potato,\\nif it be planted and replanted, for too long a series of\\ngenerations, in the same worn-out soil. My children\\nnave had other birthplaces, and, so far as their fortunes\\nmay be within my control, shall strike their roots into\\nunaccustomed earth.\\nOn emerging from the Old Manse, it was chiefly this\\nstrange, iudolent, unjoyous attachment for my native\\ntown, that brought me to fill a place in Uncle Sam\u00e2\u0080\u0099", "height": "3471", "width": "2021", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "12\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nbrick edifice, when I might as well, or better, have gone\\nsomewhere else. My doom was on me. It was not the\\nfirst time, nor the second, that I had gone away, as it\\nseemed, permanently, but yet returned, .ike the bad\\nhalf-penny; or as if Salem were for me the inevitable\\ncentre of the universe. So, one fine morning, I ascended\\nthe flight of granite steps, with the President\u00e2\u0080\u0099s commis-\\nsion in my pocket, and was introduced to the corps of\\ngentlemen who were to aid me in my weighty responsi-\\nbility, as chief executive officer of the Custom-House.\\nI doubt greatly or, rather, I do not doubt at all\\nwhether any public functionary of the United States,\\neither in the civil or military line, has ever had such a\\npatriarchal body of veterans under his orders as myself.\\nThe whereabouts of the Oldest Inhabitant was at once\\nsettled, when I looked at them. For upwards of twenty\\nyears before this epoch, the independent position of the\\nCollector had kept the Salem Custom-House out of the\\nwhirlpool of political vicissitude, which makes the tenure\\nof office generally so fragile. A soldier, New Eng-\\nland\u00e2\u0080\u0099s most distinguished soldier, he stood firmly on\\nthe pedestal of his gallant services and, himself secure\\nin the wise liberality of the successive administrations\\nthrough which he had held office, he had been the safety\\nof his subordinates in many an hour of danger and heart-\\nquake. General Miller was radically conservative; a\\nman over whose kindly nature habit had no slight influ-\\nence attaching himself strongly to familiar faces, and\\nwith difficulty moved to change, even when change\\nmight have brought unquestionable improvement. Thus,\\non taking charge of my department, I found few but aged\\nThey were ancient sea-capta ns, for the most part", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\n13\\n\u00c2\u00bbvho. after being tost on every sea, and standing up stur-\\ndily against life\u00e2\u0080\u0099s tempestuous blast, had finally drifted\\ninto this quiet nook where, w ith. little to disturb them,\\nexcept the periodical terrors of a Presidential election,\\nthey one and all acquired a new lease of existence.\\nThough by no means less liable than their fellow-men\\nto age and infirmity, tney had evidently some talisman\\nor other that kept death at bay. Two or three of their\\nnumber, as I was assured, being gouty and rheumatic,\\nor perhaps bed-ridden, never dreamed of making their\\nappearance at the Custom-House, during a large part of\\nthe year but, after a torpid winter, would creep out\\ninto the warm sunshine of May or June, go lazily about\\nwhat they termed duty, and, at their own leisure and\\nconvenience, betake themselves to bed again. I must\\nplead guilty to the charge of abbreviating the official\\nbreath of more than one of these venerable servants of\\nthe republic. They were allowed, on my representation,\\nto rest from their arduous labors, and soon afterwards\\nas if their sole principle of life had been zeal for their\\ncountry\u00e2\u0080\u0099s service; as I verily believe it was with-\\ndrew to a better world. It is a pious consolation to me,\\nthat, through my interference, a sufficient space was\\nallowed them for repentance of the evil and corrupt prac-\\ntices, into which, as a matter of course, every Custom-\\nHouse officer must be supposed to fall. Neither the\\nfront nor the back entrance of the Custom-House opens\\non the road to Paradise.\\nThe greater part of my officers were Whigs. It was\\nwell for their venerable brotherhood that the new Sur-\\nveyor was not a politician, and though a faithful Demo-\\ncrat in principle, neither received nor held bis office", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "14\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nwith any reference to political services. Han it been\\notherwise. had an active politician been put into this\\ninfluential post, to assume the easy task of making\\nhead against a Whig Collector, whose infirmities with-\\nheld him from the personal administration of his office,\\nhardly a man of the old corps would have drawn^\\nthe breath of official life, within a month after the exter-\\nminating angel had come up the Custom-House steps.\\nAccording to the received code in such matters, it\\nwould have been nothing short of duty, in a politician,\\nto bring every one of those white heads under the axe\\nof the guillotine. It was plain enough to discern,\\nthat the old fellows dreaded some such discourtesy at\\nmy hands. It pained, and at the same time amused\\nme, to behold the terrors that attended my advent to\\nsee a furrowed cheek, weather-beaten by half a century\\nof storm, turn ashy pale at the glance of so harmless an\\nindividual as myself; to detect, as one or another\\naddressed me, the tremor of a voice, which, in long-past\\nlays, had been wont to bellow through a speaking-\\ntrumpet, hoarsely enough to frighten Boreas himself to\\nsilence. They knew, these excellent old persons, that,\\nby all established rule, and, as regarded some of\\nthem, weighed by their own lack of efficiency for busi-\\nness, they ought to have given place to younger men,\\nmore orthodox in politics, and altogether fatcr than\\nthemselves to serve our common Uncle. I knew it, too,\\nbut could never quite find in my heart to act upon the\\nknowledge. Much and deservedly to my own discredit,\\ntherefore, and considerably to the detriment of my\\nofficial conscience, they continued, during my incum-\\nbency, to creep about the wharves, and loiter up and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "run CUS1 jN-hUUSE.\\n15\\ndown the Custom-House steps. They spent a good\\ndeal of time, also, asleep in their accustomed corners,\\nwith their chairs tilted back against the wall awaking,\\nhowever, once or twice in a forenoon, to bore one\\nanother with the several thousandth repetition of old\\nsea-stories, and mouldy jokes, that had grown to be\\npass-words and countersigns among them.\\nThe discovery was soon made, I imagine, that the\\nnew Surveyor had no great harm in him. So, with\\nlightsome hearts, and the happy consciousness of being\\nusefully employed, in their own behalf, at least, if\\nnot for our beloved country, these good old gentlemen\\nwent through the various formalities of office. Saga-\\nciously, under their spectacles, did they peep into the\\nholds of vessels Mighty was their fuss about little\\nmatters, and marvellous, sometimes, the obtuseness that\\nallowed greater ones to slip between their fingers\\nWhenever such a mischance occurred, when a wagon-\\nload of valuable merchandise had been smuggled ashore,\\nat noonday, perhaps, and directly beneath their unsus-\\npicious noses, nothing could exceed the vigilance and\\nalacrity with which they proceeded to lock, and double-\\nlock, and secure with tape and sealing-wax, all the\\navenues of the delinquent vessel. Instead of a repri-\\nmand for their previous negligence, the case seemed\\nrather to require an eulogium on their praiseworthy\\ncaution, after the mischief had happened; a grateful\\nrecognition of the promptitude of their zeal, the moment\\nthat there was no longer any remedy.\\nUnless people are more than commonly disagreeable,\\nit is my foolish habit to contract a kindness for them.\\nThe better part of my companion\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character, if it have", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "16\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\na better part, is that which usually comes uppermost\\nin my regard, and forms the type whereby I recognize\\nthe man. As most of these old Custom-House officers\\nnad good traits, and as my position in reference to them,\\nbeing paternal and protective, was favorable to the\\ngrowth of friendly sentiments, I soon grew to like them\\nall. It was pleasant, in the summer forenoons, when\\nthe fervent heat, that almost liquefied the rest of the\\nhuman family, merely communicated a genial warmth\\nto their half-torpid systems, it was pleasant to hear\\nthem chatting in the back entry, a row of them all\\ntipped against the wall, as usual while the frozen wit-\\nticisms of past generations were thawed out, and came\\nbubbling with laughter from their lips. Externally, the\\njollity of aged men has much in common with the mirth\\nof children the intellect, any more than a deep sense\\nof humor, has little to do with the matter; it is, with\\nboth, a gleam that plays upon the surface, and imparts a\\nsunny and cheery aspect alike to the green branch, and\\ngray, mouldering trunk. In one case, however, it is\\nreal sunshine in the other, it more resembles the phos-\\nphorescent glow of decaying wood.\\nIt would be sad injustice, the reader must understand,\\nto represent all my excellent old friends as in their\\ndotage. In the first place, my coadjutors were nGt\\ninvariably old; there were men among them in theii\\nstrength and prime, of marked ability and energy, and\\naltogether superior to the sluggish and dependent mode\\nof life on which their evil stars had cast them. Then,\\nmoreover, the white locks of age were sometimes found\\nto be the thatch of an intellectual tenement in good\\nrepair. But, as respects the majority of my co~ps cf", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "TUP CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\nn\\nveterans, there will be no wrong done, if I characterize\\nthem generally as a set of wearisome old souls, who had\\ngathered nothing worth preservation from their varied\\nexperience of life. They seemed to have flung away all\\nthe golden grain of practical wisdom, which they had\\nenjoyed so many opportunities of harvesting, and most\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2rarefully to have stored their memories with the husks\\nThey spoke with far more interest and unction of then\\nmorning\u00e2\u0080\u0099s breakfast, or yesterday\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, to-day\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, or to-mor\\nrow s dinner, than of the shipwreck of forty or fifty\\nfears ago, and all the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wonders which they had\\n/vitnessed with their youthful eyes.\\nThe father of the Custom-House the patriarch, not\\nonly of this little squad of officials, but, I am bold to say,\\nof the respectable body of tide-waiters all over the\\nUnited States was a certain permanent Inspector.\\nHe might truly be termed a legitimate son of the\\nrevenue system, dyed in the wool, or, rather, born in. the\\npurple; since his sire, a Revolutionary colonel, and\\nformerly collector of the port, had created an office for\\nhim, and appointed him to fill it, at a period of the early\\na^es which few living men can now remember. This\\nInspector, when I first knew him, was a man of four-\\nscore years, or thereabouts, and certainly one of the\\nmost wonderful specimens of winter-green that you\\nwould be likely to discover in a lifetime\u00e2\u0080\u0099s search. With\\nhis florid cheek, his compact figure, smartly arrayed iu\\na bright-buttoned blue coat, his brisk and vigorous step,\\nand his hale and hearty aspect, altogether he seemed\\nnot young, indeed but a kind of new contrivance of\\nMother Nature in the shape of man, whom age and\\ninfirmity had no business to touch. His voice and\\n2", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "18\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nlaugh, which perpetually reechoed through the Custom\\nHouse, had nothing of the tremulous quaver and cackle\\nof an old man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s utterance; they came strutting out of\\nhis lungs, like the crow of a cock, or the blast of a\\nclarion. Looking at him merely as an animal, and\\nthere was very little else to look at, he was a most\\nsatisfactory object, from the thorough healthfulness and\\nwholesomeness of his system, and his capacity, at that\\nextreme age, to enjoy all, or nearly all, the delights\\nwhich he had ever aimed at, or conceived of. The\\ncareless security of his life in the Custom-House, on a\\nregular income, and with but slight and infrequent\\napprehensions of removal, had no doubt contributed to\\nmake time pass lightly over him. The original and\\nmore potent causes, however, lay in the rare perfection\\nof his animal nature, the moderate proportion of intel-\\nlect, and the very trifling admixture of moral and\\nspiritual ingredients these latter qualities, indeed,\\nbeing in barely enough measure to keep the old gentle-\\nman from walking on all-fours. He possessed no power\\nof thought, no depth of feeling, no troublesome sensibil-\\nities nothing, in short, but a few commonplace instincts,\\nwhich, aided by the cheerful temper that grew inevitably\\nout of his physical well-being, did duty very respectably,\\nand to general acceptance, in lieu of a heart. He had\\nbeen the husband of three wives, all long since dead\\nthe father of twenty children, most of whom, at every\\nage of childhood or maturity, ha likewise returned to\\ndust. Here, one would suppose, might have been sor-\\nrow enough to imbue the sunniest disposition, through\\nand through, with a sable tingfc. Not so with our old\\nInspector One brief sigh sufficed to carry off the cntre", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\nburden of these dismal reminiscences. The next mo-\\nment, lie was as ready for sport as any unbreeciied\\ninfant; far readier than the Collector\u00e2\u0080\u0099s junior clerk, who,\\nat nineteen years, was much the elder and graver man\\nof the two.\\nI used to watch and study this patriarchal personage\\nwith, I think, livelier curiosity, than any other form of\\nhumanity there presented to my notice. He was, in\\ntruth, a rare phenomenon so perfect, in one point of\\nview,; so shallow, so delusive, so impalpable, such an\\nabsolute nonentity, in every other. My conclusion was\\nthat he had no soul, no heart, no mind nothing, as I\\nhave already said, but instincts: and yet, withal, so\\ncunningly had the few materials of his character been\\nput together, that there was no painful perception of\\ndeficiency, but, on my part, an entire contentment with\\nwhat I found in him. It might be difficult and it\\nwas so to conceive how he should exist hereafter, so\\nearthly and sensuous did he seem but surely his exist-\\nence here, admitting that it was to terminate with his\\nlast breath, had been not unkindly given; with no\\nhigher moral responsibilities than the beasts of the field,\\nbut with a larger scope of enjoyment than theirs, and\\nwith all their blessed immunity from the dreariness and\\nduskiness of age.\\nOne point, in which he had vastly the advantage over\\nhis four-footed brethren, was his ability to recollect the\\ngood dinners which it had made no small portion of the\\nhappiness of his life to eat. His gourmandism was a\\nhighly agreeable trait and to hear him talk of roast-\\nmeat was as appetizing as a pickle or an oyster. As\\nhe possessed 10 higher attribute, and neither sacrificed", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "20\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nnor vitiated any spiritual endowment by devoting all\\nhis energies ana ingenuities to subserve the delight and\\nprofit of his maw, it always pleased and satisfied me to\\nhear him expatiate on fish, poultry, and butcher\u00e2\u0080\u0099s meat,\\nand the most eligible methods of preparing them for\\nthe table. His reminiscences of good cheer, however\\nancient the date of the actual banquet, seemed to bring\\nthe savor of pig or turkey under one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s very nostrils.\\nThere were flavors on his palate, that had lingered\\nthere not less than sixty or seventy years, and were still\\napparently as fresh as that of the mutton-chop which he\\nhad just devoured for his breakfast. I have heard him\\nsmack his lips over dinners, every guest at which,\\nexcept himself, had long been food for worms. It was\\nmarvellous to observe how the ghosts of bygone meals\\nwere continually rising up before him not in anger ot\\nretribution, but as if grateful for his former appreciation\\nand seeking to repudiate an endless series of enjoyment,\\nat once shadowy and sensual. A tender-loin of beef, a\\nhind-quarter of veal, a spare-rib of pork, a particular\\nchicken, or a remarkably praiseworthy turkey, which\\nhad perhaps adorned his board in the days of the elder\\nAdams, would be remembered while all the subsequent\\nexperience of our race, and all the events that bright-\\nened or darkened his individual career, had gone over\\nhim with as little permanent effect as the passing\\nbreeze. The chief tragic event of the old man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s life, so\\nfar as I cou.d judge, was his mishap with a certain\\ngoose, which lived and died some twenty or forty years\\nago a goose of most promising figure, but which, at\\ntable, proved so inveterately tough that the carving-knife", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\n2\\\\\\nvrould make no Impression on its carcass, and it could\\nonly be divided with an axe and handsaw.\\nBut it is time to quit this sketch on which, however\\nshould be glad to dwell at considerably more length\\nbecause, of all men whom I have ever known, this indi\\nvidual was fittest to be a Custom-House officer. Most\\npersons, owing to causes which I may not have space ic\\nhint at, suffer moral detriment from this peculiar mode\\nof life. The old Inspector was incapable of it, and,\\nwere he to continue in office to the end of time, would\\nbe just as good as he was then, and sit down to dinner\\nwith just as good an appetite.\\nThere is one likeness, without which my gallery of\\nCustom-House portraits would be strangely incomplete\\nbut which my comparatively few opportunities for obser-\\nvation enable me to sketch only in the merest outline.\\nIt is that of the Collector, our gallant old Genera], who,\\nafter his brilliant military service, subsequently to which\\nhe had ruled over a wild Western territory, had come\\nhither, twenty years before, to spend the decline of his\\nvaried and honorable life. The brave soldier had already\\nnumbered, nearly or quite, his threescore years and ten,\\nand was pursuing the remainder of his earthly march,\\nburdened with infirmities which even the martial music\\nof his own spirit-stirring recollections could do littla\\ntowards lightening. The step was palsied now, th\u00c2\u00bbJ\\nhad been foremost in the charge. It was only with the\\nassistance of a servant, and by leanimr his hand heaviiv\\non the iron balustrade, that he could slowlv and pain-\\nfully ascend the Custom-House stens. and, with a toil-\\nsome progress across the floor, attain his customary chan\\n6eside the fireplace. There bp to sit. ga7mg wito", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "THE SCARLET LETTER.\\n22\\na somewhat dim serenity of aspect at the figures thai\\ncame and went amid the rustle of papers, the adminis-\\ntering of oaths, the discussion of business, and the casual\\ntalk of the office all which sounds and circumstances\\nseemed but indistinctly to impress his senses, and hardly\\nto make then way into his inner sphere of contempla-\\ntion. His countenance, in this repose, was mild ana\\nkindly, if his notice was sought, an expression of cour-\\ntesy and interest gleamed out upon his features prov-\\ning that there was light within him, and that it was only\\nthe outward medium of the intellectual lamp that ob-\\nstructed the rays in their passage. The closer you pen-\\netrated to the substance of his mind, the sounder it\\nappeared. When no longer called upon to speak, or\\nlisten, either of which operations cost him an evident\\neffort, his face would briefly subside into its former not\\nuncheerful quietude. It was not painful to behold this\\nlook for, though dim, it had not the imbecility of de-\\ncaying age. The framework of his nature, originally\\nstrong and massive, w T as not yet crumbled into ruin.\\nTo observe and define his character, however, under\\nsuch disadvantages, was as difficult a task as to trace\\nout and build up anew, in imagination, an old fortress,\\nlike Ticonderoga, from a view of its gray and broken\\nruins. Here and there, perchance, the walls may remain\\nalmost complete but elsewhere may be only a shape-\\nless mound, cumbrous with its very strength, and over-\\ngrown, through long years of peace and neglect, with\\ngrass and alien weeds.\\nNevertheless, looking at the old warrior with affec-\\ntion, for, slight as was the communication between\\nus, my feeling towards him, like that of all bipeds and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSli.\\nquadrupeds who knew him, might not irnpropi rly be\\ntenned so, I could discern the main points of his\\nportrait. It was marked with the noble and heroic\\nqualities which showed it to be not by a mere accident,\\nbut of good right, that he had won a distinguished name.\\nHis spirit could never, I conceive, have been character-\\nized by an uneasy activity it must, at any period of his\\nlife, have required an impulse to set him in motion;\\nbut, once stirred uj with obstacles to overcome, and an\\nadequate object to be attained, it was not in the man to\\ngive out or fail. The heat that had formerly pervaded\\nhis nature, and which was not yet extinct, was never of\\nthe kind that flashes and flickers in a blaze but, rather,\\na deep, red glow, as of iron in a furnace. Weight, solid**\\nity, firmness this was the expression of his repose, even\\nin such decay as had crept untimely over him, at the\\nperiod of which I speak. But I could imagine, even\\nthen, that, under some excitement which should go\\ndeeply into his consciousness, roused by a trumpet-\\npeal, loud enough to awaken all of his energies that were\\nnot dead, but only slumbering, he was yet capable of\\nflinging off his infirmities like a sick man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gown, drop-\\nping the staff of age to seize a battle-sword, and starting\\nup once more a warrior. And, in so intense a moment,\\nhis demeanor would have still been calm. Srch an ex-\\nhibition, however, was but to be pictured in fancy not\\nto be anticipated, nor desired. What I saw in nim\\nas evidently as the indestructible ramparts of Old Ticon-\\nderoga. already cited as the most appropriate simile\\nwere the features of stubborn a:ud ponderous endurance,\\nwhich might well have amounted to obstinacy in hia\\nearlier days of integrry, that, like most cf his other", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "*4 THE SCARLET LETTER.\\nendowments, lay in a somewhat heavy mass, and was\\njust as unmalleable and unmanageable as a ton of iron\\nore and of benevolence, which, fiercely as he led the\\nbayonets on at Chippewa or Fort Erie, I take to be of\\nquite as genuine a stamp as what actuates any or all the\\npolemical philanthropists of the age. He had slain men\\nwith his own hand, for aught I know certainly, they\\nhad fallen, like blades of grass at the sweep of the\\nscythe, before the charge to which his spirit imparted its\\ntriumphant energy but, be that as it might, there\\nwas never in his heart so much cruelty as would have\\nbrushed the down off a butterfly\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wing. I have not\\nknown the man, to whose innate kindliness I would\\nmore confidently make an appeal.\\nMany characteristics and those, too, which contrib-\\nute not the least forcibly to impart resemblance in a sketr.i\\nmust have vanished, or been obscured, before I met\\nthe General. All merely graceful attributes are usually\\nthe most evanescent nor does Nature adorn the human\\nruin with blossoms of new beauty, that have their roots\\nand proper nutriment only in the chinks and crevices of\\ndecay, as she sows wall-flowers over the ruined fortress\\nof Ticonderoga. Still, even in respect of grace and\\nbeauty, there were points well worth noting. A ray of\\nhumor, now and then, would make its way through the\\nveil of dim obstruction, and glimmer pleasantly upon\\nour faces. A trait of native elegance, seldom seen in the\\nmasculine character after childhood or early youth, was\\nshown in the General\u00e2\u0080\u0099s fondness for the sight and fra-\\ngrance of flowers. An old soldier might be supposed to\\nprize only the bloody laurel on his brow; but here was", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\n25\\nDne who seemed to have a young girl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s appreciation of\\nthe floral tribe.\\nThere, beside the fireplace, the brave old General\\nused to sit while the Surveyor though seldom, when\\nit could be avoided, taking upon himself the difficult task\\nof engaging him in conversation was fond of standing\\nat a distance, and watching his quiet and almost slum-\\nberous countenance. He seemed away from us, although\\nwe saw him but a few yards off remote, though we\\npassed close beside his chair unattainable, though we\\nmight have stretched forth our hands and touched his\\nown. It might be that he lived a more real life within\\nhis thoughts, than amid the unappropriate environment\\not the Collector\u00e2\u0080\u0099s office. The evolutions of the parade\\nthe tumult of the battle the flourish of old, heroic mu-\\nsic. heard thirty years before such scenes and sounds,\\nperhaps, were all alive before his intellectual sense.\\nMeanwhile, the merchants and ship-masters, the spruce\\nclerks and uncouth sailors, entered and departed the\\nbustle of this commercial and Custom-House life kept\\nup its little murmur round about him and neither with\\nthe men nor their affairs did the General appear to sus-\\ntain the most distant relation. He was as much out of\\nplace as an old sword now rusty, but which had\\nflashed once in the battle\u00e2\u0080\u0099s front, and showed still a\\nbright gleam along its blade would have been, among\\nthe inkstands, paper-folders, and mahogany rulers, on\\nthe Deputy Collector\u00e2\u0080\u0099s desk.\\nThere was one thing that much aided me in renew-\\ning and re-creating the stalwart soldier of the Niagara\\nfrontier, the man of true and simple energy. It was\\nthe recollection of those memorable words c f his,", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "26\\nTHL SCARLET LETTER\\nI \u00e2\u0080\u0099ll try, Sir spoken on the very verge of a dts\\nperate and heroic enterprise, and breathing the soul and\\nspirit of New England hardihood, comprehending all\\nperils, and encountering all. If, in our countiy, valoi\\nwere rewarded by heraldic honor, this phrase which\\nit seems so easy to speak, but which only he, with such\\ntask of danger and glory before him, has ever spoken\\nwould be the best and fit test of all mottoes for the\\nGeneral\u00e2\u0080\u0099s shield of arms.\\nIt contributes greatly towards a man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s moral and intei-\\nectual health, to be brought into habits of companion-\\nship with individuals unlike himself, who care little for\\nis puKsuitg. and whose sphere and abilities he must go\\nout of him jfdf to appreciate. The accidents of my life\\nhave often afforded me this advantage, but never with\\nmore fuhiPLs and variety than during my continuance in\\naffic^. There was one man, especially, the observation\\nof whose character gave me a new idea of talent. His\\ngifts were emphatically those of a man o f business;\\nprompt, acute, clear-minded; with an eye that saw\\nth lough all perplexities, and a faculty of arrangement\\nthat made them vanish, as by the waving of an enchant-\\ner\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wand. Bred up from boyhood in the Custom-House,\\nit was his proper field of activity and the many intri-\\ncacies of business, so harassing to the interloper, pre-\\nsented themselves before him with the regularity of a\\nperfectly comprehended system. In my contemplation,\\nhe stood as the ideal of his class. He was, indeed, the\\nCustom-House in himself or, at all events, the main\\nspring that kept its variously revolving wheels in mo-\\ntion for, in an institution like this, where its officers are\\nappointed to subserve their own profit and convenience", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "VUE CUSTOM-HOC i.E.\\n21\\nand seldon with, a leading reference to their fitness foi\\nthe duty to be performed, they must perforce seek else*\\nwhere the dexterity which is not in them. Thus, by an\\ninevitable necessity, as a magnet attracts steel-filings, so\\ndid our man of business draw to himself the difficulties\\nwhich everybody met with. With an easy condescen-\\nsion, and kind forbearance towards our stupidity,\\nwhich, to his order of mind, must have seemed little\\nshort of crime, would he forthwith, by the merest\\ntouch of his finger, make the incomprehensible as clear\\nas daylight. The merchants valued him not less than\\nwe, his esoteric friends. His integrity was perfect :t\\nwas a law of nature with him, rather than a choice or a\\nprinciple nor can it be otherwise than the main con-\\ndition of an intellect so remarkably clear and accurate as\\nhis, to be honest and regular in the administration of\\naffairs. A stain on his conscience, as to anything thal\\ncame within the range of his vocation, would trouble\\nsuch a man very much in the same way, though to a far\\ngreater degree, than an error in the balance of an ac-\\ncount, or an ink-blot on the fair page of a book of record.\\nHere, in a word, and it is a rare instance in my life,\\nI had met with a person thoroughly adapted to the situ-\\nation which he held.\\nSuch were some of the people with whom 1 now\\nfound myself connected. I took it in good part, at the\\nhands of Providence, that I was thrown into a position\\nso little akin to my past habits and set myself seriously\\nto gather from it whatever profit was to be had. A fter\\nmy fellowship of toil and impracticable schemes with\\nthe dreamy brethren of Brook Farm after living foi\\nthree years within the subtile influence of an intellect", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "28\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER\\nlike Emerson\u00e2\u0080\u0099s; alter those wild, free days on the Assa.\\nbeth, indulging fantastic speculations, beside our fire ol\\nfallen boughs, with Ellery Channing after talking with\\nThoreau about pine-trees and Indian relics, in his her-\\nmitage at Walden after growing fastidious by sympathy\\nwith the classic refinement of Hillard\u00e2\u0080\u0099s culture after\\nbecoming imbued with poetic sentiment at Longfellow\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nhearth-stone; it was time, at length, that I should\\nexercise other faculties of my nature, and nourish myself\\nwith food for which I had hitherto had little appetite.\\nEven the old Inspector was desirable^rc? a change of\\ndiet, to a man who had known Alcott. I looked upon it\\nas an evidence, in some measure, of a sy tem naturally\\nwell balanced, and lacking no essential part of a thorough\\norganization, that, with such associates to remember, I\\ncould mingle at once with men of altogether different\\nqualities, and never murmur at the change.\\nLiterature, its exertions and objects, were now of little\\nmoment in my regard. I cared not, at this period, for\\nbooks; they were apart from me. Nature, except it\\nwere human nature, the nature that is developed in\\nearth and sky, was, in one sense, hidden from me and\\nall the imaginative delight, wherewith it had been spirit-\\nualized, passed away out of my mind. A gift, a faculty\\nif it had not departed, was suspended and inanimate\\nwithin me. There would have been something sad,\\nunutterably dreary, in all this, had 1 not been conscious\\nthat it lay at my own option to recall whatever was val-\\nuable in the past. It might be true, indeed, that this\\nwas a life which could not with impunity, be lived too\\nlong; else, it might made me permanently other than i\\n\\\\\u00c2\u00bbeen without transforming me into any shape which", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUoE.\\nit wtuld be worth my wnile to take. But I never con-\\nsidered it as other than a transitory life. There was\\nalways a prophetic instinct, a low whisper in niv ear,\\nthat, within no long period, and whenever a new change\\nof custom should be essential to my good, a change\\nwould come.\\nMeanwhile, there I was, a Surveyor of the Kevenue\\nand, o far as I have been able to understand, as good a\\nSurveyor as need be. A man of thought, fancy, and\\nsensibility, (had he ten times the Surveyor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s proportion\\nof those qualities.) ma; at any time, be a man of affairs,\\nif he will only choose to give himself the trouble. My\\nfellow-officers, and the merchants and sea-captains with\\nwhom my official duties brought me into any manner of\\nconnection, viewed me in no other light, and probably\\nknew me in no other character. None of them. I pre-\\nsume, had ever read a page of my inditing, or would\\nhave cared a fig the more for me, if they had read them\\nall nor would it have mended the matter, in the least,\\nhad those same unprofitable pages been written with a\\npen like that of Burns or of Chaucer, each of whom was\\na Custom-House officer in his day, as well as I. It is a\\ngood lesson though it may often be a hard one for\\na man who has dreamed of literary fame, and of making\\nfor himself a rank among the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s dignitaries by such\\nmeans, to step aside out of the narrow circle in which\\nhis claims are recognized, and to find how utterly devoid\\nof significance, beyond that circle, is all that he achieves,\\nund all he amis at. I know not that I especiaPy needed\\nthe lesson, either in the way of warning or rebuke but,\\nat any rate, I learned it thoroughly ncr it gives me\\npleasure to reflect, did the truth, as it came heme to my", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "JO\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nperception, ever cost me a pang, or require tc oe throw*\\nDtf in a sigh. In the way of literary talk, it is true, the\\nNaval Officer an excellent fellow, who came into office\\nwith me ari.1 went out only a little later would often\\nengage me in a discussion about one or the other of his\\nfavorite topics, Napoleon or Shakspeare. The Collector\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\njunior clerk, too, a young gentleman who, it was whis-\\npered, occasionally covered a sheet of Uncle Sam\u00e2\u0080\u0099s letter-\\npaper with what (at the distance of a few yards) looked\\nvery much like poetry, used now and then to speak to\\nme of books, as matters with which I might possibly be\\nconversant. This was my all of lettered intercourse\\nand it was quite sufficient for my necessities.\\nNo longer seeking nor caring that my name should\\nbe blazoned abroad on title-pages, I smiled to think that\\nit had now another kind of vogue. The Custom-House\\nmarker imprinted it, with a stencil and black paint, on\\npepper-bags, and baskets of anatto, and cigar-boxes, and\\nbales of all kinds of dutiable merchandise, in testimony\\nthat these commodities had paid the impost, and gone\\nregularly through the office. Borne on such queer vehi-\\ncle of fame, a knowledge of my existence, so far as a\\nname conveys it, was carried where it had never been\\nbefore, and, I hope, will never go again.\\nBut the past was not dead. Once in a great while,\\nthe thoughts, that had seemed so vital and so active, yet\\nhad been put to rest so quietly, revived again. One of\\nthe most remarkable occasions, when the habit of by-\\ngone days awoke in me, was that which brings it within\\nthe law of literary propriety to offer the public the sketch\\nwhich lam now writing.\\nIn the second story of the Custom-House, there is r", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE,\\n31\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0098argil room, in which the brick-work and naked rafters\\nhave never been coverrd with panelling and plaster.\\nThe edifice originally projected on a scale adapted to\\nthe old commercial enterprise of the port, and with an\\nidea of subsequent prosperity destined never to be real-\\nized contains far more space than its occupants know\\nwhat to do with. This airy hall, therefore, over the\\nCollector\u00e2\u0080\u0099s apartments, remains unfinished to this day*\\nand, in spite of the aged cobwebs that festoon its dusky\\nbeams, appears still to await the labor of the carpenter\\nand mason. At one end of the room, in a recess, were\\na number of barrels, piled one upon another, containing\\nbundles of official documents. Large quantities of sim-\\nilar rubbish lay lumbering the floor. It was sorrowful\\nto think how many days, and weeks, and months, and\\nyears of toil, had been wasted on these musty papers,\\nwhich were now only an encumbrance on earth, and\\nwere hidden away in this forgotten corner, never more\\nto be glanced at by human eyes. But, then, what reams\\nof other manuscripts filled not with the dulness of offi-\\ncial formalities, but with the thought of inventive brainy\\nand the rich effusion of deep hearts had gone equally\\nto oblivion and that, moreover, without serving a pur-\\npose in their day, as these heaped-up papers had, and\\nsaddest of all without purchasing for their writers the\\ncomfortable livelihood which the clerks of the Custom-\\nHouse had gained by these worthless scratchings of the\\npen! Yet not altogether worthless, perhaps, as mate-\\nrials of local history. Here, no doubt*, statistics of the\\nformer commerce of Salem might be discovered, and\\nmemorials of her princely merchants, old King Derby,\\nold Billy Gray, old Simon Forrester, and many", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "32\\nTIIE SCARLET LETTEK.\\nanother magnate in his day; whose powdered hev3,\\nhowever, was scarcely in the tomb, before his mountain-\\npile of wealth began to dwindle. The founders of the\\ngreater part of the families which now compose the aris-\u00e2\u0080\u0098\\nlocracy of Salem might here be traced, from the pett\\nand obscure beginnings of their traffic, at periods gener-\\nally much posterior to the Revolution, upward to what\\ntheir children look upon as long-established rank.\\nPrior to the Revolution, there is a dearth of records\\nthe earlier documents and archives of the Custom-House\\nhaving, probably, been carried off to Halifax, when all\\nthe King\u00e2\u0080\u0099s officials accompanied the British army in its\\nflight from Boston. It has often been a matter of regret\\nwith me for, going back, perhaps, to the days of the\\nProtectorate, those papers must have contained many\\nreferences to forgotten or remembered men, and to an-\\ntique customs, which would have affected me with the\\nsame pleasure as when I used to pick up Indian arrow-\\nheads in the field near the Old Manse.\\nBut, one idle and rainy day, it was my fortune to\\nmake a discovery of some little interest. Poking and\\nburrowing into the heaped-up rubbish in the corner;\\nunfolding one and another document, and reading the\\nnames of vessels that had long ago foundered at sea or\\nrotted at the wharves, and those of merchants, never\\nheard of now on \u00e2\u0080\u0099Change, nor very readily decipherable\\non their mossy tomb-stones glancing at such matters\\nwith the saddened, weary, half-reluctant interest which\\nwe bestow on the corpse of dead activity, and exerting\\nmy fancy, sluggish with little use, to raise up from these\\ndry bones an image of the old town\u00e2\u0080\u0099s brighter aspect,\\nwhen India was a new region, and only Salem knew", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "TL.E CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\n33\\n(he way thither, I chanced to lay my hand on a small\\npackage, carefully done up in a piece of -ancient yellow\\nparchment. This envelope had the air of an official\\nrecord of some period long past, when cleiks engrossed\\ntheir stiff and formal ehirography on more substantial\\nmaterials than at present. There was something about\\nit that quickened an instinctive curiosity, and made me\\nundo the faded red tape, that tied up the package, with\\nthe sense that a treasure would here be brought to light.\\nUnbending the rigid folds of the parchment cover, 1 found\\nit to be a commission, under the hand and seal of^Gov-\\nernor Shirley, in favor of one Jonathan Pue, as Surveyoi\\nof his Majesty\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Customs for the port of Salem, in the\\nProvince of Massachusetts Bay. I remembered to have\\nread (probably in Felt\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Annals) a notice of the decease\\nof Mr. Surveyor Pue, about fourscore years ago; and\\nlikewise, in a newspaper of recent times, an account of\\nthe digging up of his remains in the little grave-yard of\\nSt. Peter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Church, during the renewal of that edifice.\\nNothing, if I rightly call to mind, was left of my respected\\npredecessor, save an imperfect skeleton, and some frag-\\nments of apparel, and a wig of majestic frizzle which,\\nunlike the head that it once adorned, was in very satis-\\nfactory preservation. But, on examining the papers\\nwhich the parchment commission served to envelop, 1\\nfound more traces of Mr. Pue\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mental part, and the in-\\nterna. operations of his head, than the frizzled wig had\\ncontained of the venerable skull itself.\\nThey were documents, in short, not official, but of a\\nprivate nature, or, at least, written in his private capacity,\\nand apparently with his own hand. I could account foi\\ntheir oeing included in the hean of Custom-Hou? iumhii\\n3", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "34\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nonly by (he fact, that Mr. Pue\u00e2\u0080\u0099 death had happened sud*\\ndenly and that these papers, which he probably kept m\\nhis official desk, had never come to the knowledge of his\\nheirs, oi were supposed to relate to the business of the\\nTevenue. On the transfer of the archives to Halifax, this\\npackage, proving to be of no public concern, vas left\\nbehind, and had remained ever since unopened.\\nThe ancient Surveyor being little molested, I sup-\\npose, at that early day, with business pertaining to his\\noffice seems to have devoted some of his many leisure\\nhours to researches as a local antiquarian, and other\\ninquisitions of a similar nature. These supplied material\\nfor petty activity to a mind that would otherwise have\\nbeen eaten up with rust. A portion of his facts, by the\\nby, did me good service in the preparation of the article\\nentitled Main Street,\u00e2\u0080\u009d included in the present volume.\\nThe remainder may perhaps be applied to purposes\\nequally valuable, hereafter; or not impossibly may be\\nworked up, so far as they go, into a regular history of\\nSalem, should my veneration for the natal soil ever impel\\nme to so pious a task. Meanwhile, they shall be at tho\\ncommand of any gentleman, inclined, and competent, to\\ntake the unprofitable labor off my hands. As a final\\ndisposition, I contemplate depositing them with the Essex\\nHistorical Society.\\nBut the object that most drew my attention In tne\\nmysterious package, was a certain affair of fine red cloth,\\nmuch worn and faded. There were traces about it of\\ngold embroidery, which, however, was greatly frayed and\\ndefaced so that none, or very little, of the glitter was\\n(eft. It had been wrought, as was easy to perceive, with\\nwonderful skill of needlework; and the stitch (as I lm", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\n35\\nassured by ladies conversant with such mysteries) gives\\nevidence of a now forgotten art, not to be recovered even\\nby the process of picking out the threads. This rag of\\nscarlet cloth, for time, and wear, and a sacrilegious\\nmoth, had reduced it to little other than a rag, on care-\\nful examination, assumed the shape of a letter. It was\\nthe capital letter A. By an accurate measurement, each\\nlimb proved to be precisely three inches and a quarter in\\nlength. It had been intended, there could be no doubt,\\nas an ornamental article of dress but how it was to be\\nworn, or what rank, honor, and dignity, in by-past times,\\nwere signified by it, was a riddle which (so evanescent are\\nthe fashions of the world in these particulars) I saw little\\nhope of solving. And yet it strangely interested me.\\nMy eyes fastened themselves upon the old scarlet letter,\\nand would not be turned aside. Certainly, there was\\nsome deep meaning in it, most worthy of interpretation,\\nand which, as it were, streamed forth from the mystic\\nsymbol, subtly communicating itself to my sensibilities,\\nbut evading the analysis of my mind.\\nWhile thus perplexed, and cogitating, among other\\nhypotheses, whether the letter might not have been one\\nof those decorations which the white men used to con-\\ntrive, in order to take the eyes of Indians, I happened\\nto place it on my breast. It seemed to me, the reader\\nmay smile, but must not doubt my word, it seemed to\\nme, then, that I experienced a sensation not altogether\\nphysical, yet almost so, as of burning heat and as if the\\nletter were not of red cloth, but red-hot iron. I shud-\\ndered, and involuntarily let it fall upon the floor.\\nIn the absorbing contemplation of the scarlet letter, 1\\nhad hitherto neglected to examine a small roll rf dingy", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "38\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\npaper, around which it had been twisted. This I now\\nopened, and had the satisfaction to find, recorded by the old\\nSurveyor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pen, a reasonably complete explanation of the\\nwhole affair. There were several foolscap sheets, contain-\\ning many particulars respecting the life and conversation\\nof one Hester Prynne, who appeared to have been rather\\na noteworthy personage in the view ox our ancestors.\\nShe had flourished during the period between the early\\ndays of Massachusetts and the close of the seventeenth\\ncentury. Aged persons, alive in the time of Mr. Sur-\\nveyor Pue, and from whose oral testimony he had made\\nup his narrative, remembered her, in their youth, as a\\nvery old, but not decrepit woman, of a stately and solemn\\naspect. It had been her habit, from an almost immemo-\\nrial date, to go about the country as a kind of volun-\\ntary nurse, and doing whatever miscellaneous good she\\nmight taking upon herself, likewise, to give advice in\\nall matters, especially those of the heart by which means,\\nas a person of such propensities inevitably must, she\\ngained from many people the reverence due to an angel,\\nbut, I should imagine, was looked upon by others as an\\nintruder and a nuisance. Prying further into the manu-\\nscript, I found the record of other doings and sufferings\\nof this singular woman, for most of which the reader is\\nreferred to the story entitled The Scarlet Letter\\nand it should be borne carefully in mind, that the main\\nfacts of that story are authorized and authenticated by\\nthe document of Mr. Surveyor Pue. The original papers,\\ntogether with the scarlet letter itself, a most curious\\nrelic, are still in my possession, and shall be freely\\nexhibited to whomsoever, induced by the great interest\\nif the narrative, may desire a sight of them. J must", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\n:\\\\7\\nnot be undei stood as affirming, that, in the dressing up,\\nof the tale, and imagining the motives and modes of pas-\\nsion that influenced the characters who figure in it, I\\nhave invariably confined myself within the limits of the\\nold Surveyor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s half a dozen sheets of foolscap. On the\\ncontrary, I have allowed myself, as to such points, nearly\\nor altogether as much license as if the facts had been\\nentirely of my own invention. What I contend for i3\\nthe authenticity of the outline.\\nThis incident recalled my mind, in some degree, to its\\nold track. There seemed to be here the ground-work of\\na tale. It impressed me as if the ancient Surveyor, in\\nhis garb of a hundred years gone by, and wearing his\\nimmortal wig, which was buried with him, but did not\\nperish in the grave, had met me in the deserted cham-\\nber of the Custom-House. In his port was the dignity\\nof one who had borne his Majesty\u00e2\u0080\u0099s commission, and who\\nwas therefore illuminated by a ray of the splendor that\\nshone so dazzlingly about the throne. How unlike, alas 1\\nthe hang-dog look of a republican official, who, as the\\nservant of the people, feels himself less than the least,\\nand below the lowest, of his masters. What his own\\nghostly hand, the obscurely seen but majestic figure had\\nimparted to me the scarlet symbol, and the little roll of\\nexplanatory manuscript. With his own ghostly voice,\\nhe had exhorted me, on the sacred consideration of my\\nfilial duty and reverence towards him, who might rea-\\nsonably regard himself as my official ancestor, to bring\\nnis mouldy and moth-eaten lucubrations before the public.\\nDo this,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the ghost of Mr. Surveyor Fue, emphati-\\ncally nodding the head that looked so imposing within\\nU memorable wig, do this, and the profit shall be all", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "38\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nyoui own! You will shortly need it; for it is n,)t in\\nyour days as it was in mine, when a man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s office was\\nlife-lease, and oftentimes an heirloom. But, I charge\\nyou, in this matter of old Mistress Prynne, give to your\\npredecessor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s memory the credit which will be rightfully\\ndue And I said to the ghost of Mr. Surveyor Pue,\\nI will\\nOn Hester Prynne \u00e2\u0080\u0099s story, therefore, I bestowed much\\nthought. It was the subject of my meditations for many\\nan hour, while pacing to and fro across my room, or trav-\\nersing, with a hundred-fold repetition, the long extent\\nfrom the front-door of the Custom-House to the side-\\nentrance, and back again. Great were the weariness and\\nannoyance of the old Inspector and the Weighers and\\nGaugers, whose slumbers were disturbed by the unmer-\\ncifully lengthened tramp of my passing and returning\\nfootsteps. Kemembering their own former habits, they\\nused to say that the Surveyor was walking the quarter-\\ndeck. They probably fancied that my sole object and,\\nindeed, the sole object for which a sane man could ever\\nput himself into voluntary motion was, to get an appe-\\ntite for dinner. And to say the truth, an appetite, sharp-\\nened by the east wind that generally blew along the pas-\\nsage, was the only valuable result of so much indefati-\\ngable exercise. So little adapted is the atmosphere of a\\nCustom-House to the delicate harvest of fancy and sensi-\\nbility, that, had I remained there through ten Presiden-\\ncies yet to come, I doubt whether the tale of The\\nScarlet Letter would ever have been brought before the\\npublic eye. My imagination was a tarnished mirror. It\\nwould not reflect, or only with miserable dimness, the\\nfigures with which I did my best to people it. The", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-hOUSE.\\n39\\ncharacter* of the narrative would not be warmed and\\nrendered malleable by any heat that I could kindle at my\\nintellectual iorg^. They would take neither the glow of\\npassion nor the tenderness of sentiment, but retained all\\nthe rigidity of dead corpses, and stared me in the face\\nwith a fixed and ghastly grin of contemptuous defiance.\\nWhat have you to do with u\u00c2\u00ab that expression seemed\\no say. \u00e2\u0080\u009cThe little power you might once have\\npossessed over the tribe of unrealities is gone! You\\nPave bartered it for a pittance of the public gold. Go,\\nthen, and earn your wages In short, the aimosv, torpid\\ncreatures of my own fancy twitted me with imbecility,\\nand not without fair occasion.\\nIt was not merely during the three hours and a half\\nwhich Uncle Sam claimed as his share of my daily life,\\nthat this wretched numbness held possession of me. It\\nwent with me on my sea-shore walks, and rambles into\\nthe country, whenever which was seldom and reluct-\\nantly I bestirred myself to seek tnat invigorating charm\\not Nature, which used to give me such freshness and ac-\\ntivity of thought, the moment that I sieppeu across tne\\nthreshold of the Okl Manse, lne same torpor, as re-\\ngarded the capacity for intellectual eifort, accompanied\\nme home, and weighed upon me in the chamber whicn 1\\nmost absurdly termed my study. Nor did it quit me,\\nwhen, late at night, I sat in the deserted parlor, lighted\\nonly by the glimmering 1 coal-fire and the moon, striving\\nto picture forth imaginary scenes, which, the next day,\\nmight flow out on the brightening page in many-hue(i\\ndescription.\\nIf the imaginative faculty refused to act at such an\\nhour, it might well be deemed a hopeless case. Moon", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "40\\n7 HE SCARLET LETTER.\\nlight, in a familiar room, falling so white upon the carpet,\\nand showing all its figures so distinctly, making every\\nobject so minutely visible, yet so unlike a morning or\\nnoontide visibility, is a medium the most suitable for\\na romance-writer to get acquainted with his illusive\\nguests. There is the little domestic scenery of the well-\\nknown apartment the chairs, with each its separate indi-\\nviduality the centre-table, sustaining a work-basket, a\\nvolume or two, and an extinguished lamp the sofa the\\nbook-case; the picture on the wall; all these details,\\nso completely seen, are so spiritualized by the unusual\\nlight, that they seem to lose their actual substance, ana\\nbecome things of intellect. Nothing is too small or too\\ntrifling to undergo this change, and acquire dignity there-\\nby. A child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s shoe the doll, seated in her little wicker\\ncarriage the hobby-horse whatever, in a word, has\\nbeen used or played with, during the day, is now invested\\nwith a quality of strangeness and remoteness, though\\nstill almost as vividly present as by daylight. Thus,\\ntherefore, the floor of our familiar room has become a\\nneutral territory, somewhere between the real world and\\nfairy-land, where the Actual and the Imaginary may\\nmeet, and each imbue itself with the nature of the other.\\nGhosts might enter here, without affrighting us. It\\nwould be too much in keeping with the scene to excite\\nsurprise, were we to look about us and discover a form\\nbeloved, but gone hence, now sitting quietly in a streak of\\nthis magic moonshine, with an aspect that would make\\nus doubt whether it had returned from afar, or had never\\nonce stirred from our fireside.\\nThe somewhat dim coal-fire has an essential influence\\nin producing the effect which I would describe. It throws", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\n4\\nhs unobtrusive tinge throughout the room, with a faint\\nruddiness upon the walls and ceiling, and a reflected\\ngleam from the polish of the furniture. This warmer\\nlight mingles itself with the cold spirituality of the moon-\\nbeams, and communicates, as it were, a heart and sensi-\\nbilities of human tenderness to the forms which fancy\\nsummons up. It converts them from snow-images into\\nmen and women. Glancing at the looking-glass, we\\nbehold deep within its haunted verge the smoulder-\\ning glow of the half-extinguished anthracite, the white\\nmoonbeams on the floor, and a repetition of all the gleam\\nand shadow of the picture, with one remove further from\\nthe actual, and nearer to the imaginative. Then, at such\\nan hour, and with this scene before him, if a man, sitting\\nall alone, cannot dream strange things, and make them\\nlook like truth, he need never try to write romances.\\nBut, for myself, during the whole of my Custom-\\nHouse experience, moonlight and sunshine, and the glow\\nof fire-light, were just alike in my regard and neither\\nof them was of one whit more avail than the twinkle of\\na talL w-candle. An entire class of susceptibilities, and\\na gift connected with them, of no great richness or\\nvalue, but the best I had, was gone from me.\\nIt is my belief, however, that, had I attempted a differ-\\nent order of composition, my faculties would not have\\nbeen found so pointless and inefficacious. I might, for\\ninstance, have contented myself with writing out the\\nnarratives of a veteran shipmaster, one of the Inspectors,\\nwhom I should be most ungrateful net to mention, since\\nscarcely a day passed that he did not stir me to laughter\\nand admiration by his marvellous gifts as a story-teller.\\nCould I have preserved the picturesque force of his style.-", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "12\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nand the humorous coloring- which nature taught him\\nhow to throw over his descriptions, the result, I honestly\\nbelieve, would have been something new in literature.\\nOr I might readily have found a more serious task. It\\nwas a folly, with the materiality of this daily life press-\\ning so intrusively upon me, to attempt to fling myself\\nback into another age or to insist on creating the sem-\\nblance of a world out of airy matter, when, at every\\nmoment, the impalpable beauty of my soap-bubble was\\nbroken by the rude contact of some actual circumstance.\\nThe wiser effort would have been, to diffuse thought\\nand imagination through the opaque substance of to-day,\\nand thus to make it a bright transparency; to spirit-\\nualize the burden that began to weigh so heavily to\\nseek, resolutely, the true and indestructible value that\\nlay hidden in the petty and wearisome incidents, and\\nordinary characters, with which I was now conversant.\\nThe fault was mine. The page of life that was spread\\nout before me seemed dull and commonplace, only be-\\ncause I had not fathomed its deeper import. A better\\nbook than I shall ever write was there leaf after leaf\\npresenting itself to me, just as it was written out by the\\nreality of the flitting hour, and vanishing as fast as\\nwritten, only because my brain wanted the insight and\\nmy hand the cunning to transcribe it. At some future\\nday, it may be, I shall remember a few scattered frag-\\nments and broken paragraphs, and write them down, and\\nfind the letters turn to gold upon the page.\\nThese perceptions have come too late. At the in-\\nstant, I was only conscious that what would have been\\na pleasure once was now a hopeless toil. There was\\nno occasion to make much moan about this state of", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\n4tt\\naffairs. I had ceased to be a writer of tolerably poor\\ntales and essays, and had become a tolerably good Sur-\\nveyor of the Customs. That was all. But, neverthe-\\nless, it is anything but agreeable to be haunted by a\\nsuspicion that one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s intellect is dwindling away; or\\nexhaling, without your consciousness, like ether out of\\na phial so that, at every glance, you find a smaller\\nand less volatile residuum. Of the fact, there could be\\nno doubt and, examining myself and others, I was led\\nto conclusions, in reference to the effect of public office\\non the character, not very favorable to the mode of life\\nin question. In some other form, perhaps, I may here-\\nafter develop these effects. Suffice it here to say, that\\na Custom-House officer, of long continuance, can hardly\\nbe a very praiseworthy or respectable personage, for\\nmany reasons; one of them, the tenure by which he\\nholds his situation, and another, the very nature of his\\nbusiness, which though, I trust, an honest one is of\\nsuch a sort that he does not share in the united effort of\\nmankind.\\nAn effect which I believe to be observable, more or\\nless, in every individual who has occupied the position\\nis, that, while he leans on the mighty arm of the\\nRepublic, his own proper strength departs from him.\\nHe loses, in an extent proportioned to the weakness or\\nforce of his original nature, the capability of self-support.\\nIf he possess an unusual share of native energy, or the\\nenervating magic of place do not operate too long upon\\nhim, his forfeited powers may be redeemable. The\\nejected officer fortunate in the unkindly shove that\\n6ends him forth betimes, to struggle amid a struggling\\nworld may return to himself, and become all that he", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "44\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nnas ever been. But this seldom happens He usually\\nkeeps his ground just long enough for his ?wn ruin, and\\nis then thrust out, with sinews all unstrung, to totteT\\nalong the lifficult footpath of life as he best may.\\nConscious Oi his own infirmity, that his tempered\\nsteel and elasticity are lost, he forever afterwards\\nlooks wistfully about him in quest of support external to\\nhimself. His pervading and continual hope a hallu-\\ncination, which, in the face of all discouragement, and\\nmaking light of impossibilities, haunts him while he\\nlives, and, I fancy, like the convulsive throes of the\\ncholera, torments him for a brief space after death is,\\nthat finally, and in no long time, by some happy coin-\\ncidence of circumstances, he shall be restored to office.\\nThis faith, more than anything else, steals the pith and\\navailability out of whatever enterprise he may dream of\\nundertaking. Why should he toil and moil, and be at\\n.so much trouble to pick himself up out of the mud,\\nwhen, in a little while hence, the strong arm of his\\nUncle will raise and support him? Why should he\\nwork for his living here, or go to dig gold in California\\nwhen he so soon to be made happy, at monthly inter-\\nvals, with a little pile of glittering coin out of his Uncle\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\npocket It is sadly curious to observe how slight a\\ntaste of office suffices to infect a poor fellow with this\\nsingular disease. Uncle Sam\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gold meaning no dis-\\nrespect to the worthy old gentleman has, in this\\nrespect a quality of enchantment like that of the Devil\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nwages. Whoever touches it should look well to him\\nself, or he may find the bargain to go hard against him,\\ninvolving, if not his soul, yet many of its better attri-\\nbutes; its sturdy force, its courage and constancy, i", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "THE CTTST0M-H/7TJSE.\\n45\\ntruth, its seif-reliance, and all that gives the emphasis to\\nmanly character.\\nHere was a fine prospect in the distance Not that\\nthe Surveyor brought the lesson home to himself, or\\nadmitted that he could be so utterly undone, either by\\ncontinuance in office, or ejectment. Yet my reflections\\nwere not the most comfortable. I began to grow mel-\\nancholy and restless continually prying into my mind,\\nto discover which of its poor properties were gone,\\nand what degree of detriment had steady accrued to the\\nremainder. I endeavored to calculate how much longer\\nI could stay in the Custom-House, and yet go forth d\\nman. To confess the truth, iv vvas my greatest appre-\\nhension, as it would never be a measure of policy to\\nturn out so quiet an individual as myself, and it being\\nhardly in the nature of a public officer to resign, it\\nwas my chief trouble, therefore, that I was likely to grow\\ngray and decrepit in the Surveyorship, and become\\nmuch such another animal as the old Inspector. Might\\nit not, in the tedious lapse of official life that lay before\\nme, finally be with me as it was with this venerable\\nfriend, to make the dinner-hour the nucleus of the\\nday, and to spend the rest of it, as an old dog spends it,\\nasleep in the sunshine or in the shade A dreary look-\\nforward this, for a man who felt it to be the best defini-\\ntion of happiness to live throughout the whole range of\\nhis faculties and sensibilities! But, all this while, I\\nwas giving myself very unnecessary alarm. Providence\\nhad meditated better things for me than I could possibly\\nimagine for myself.\\nA remarkable event of the third year of my Surveyor-\\nship to adopt the tone of \u00e2\u0080\u009cP. P.\u00e2\u0080\u009d was the election", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "46\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nof General Taylor to the Presidency. It is essential, in\\norder to a complete estimate of the advantages of official\\nlife, to view the incumbent at the in-coming of a hostile\\nadministration. His position is then one of the most\\nsingularly irksome, and, in every contingency, disagree-\\nable, that a wretched mortal can possibly occupy; with\\nseldom an alternative of good, on either hand, although\\nwhat presents itself to him as the worst event may very\\nprobably be the best. But it is a strange experience, to\\na man of pride and sensibility, to know that his interests\\nare within the control of individuals who neither love nor\\nunderstand him, and by whom, since one or the other\\nmust needs happen, he would rather be injured than\\nobliged. Strange, too, for one who has kept his calm-\\nness throughout the contest, to observe the bloodthirsti-\\nness that is developed in the hour of triumph, and to be\\nconscious that he is himself among its objects There\\nare few uglier traits of human nature than this tendency\\nwhich I now witnessed in men no worse than their\\nneighbors to grow cruel, merely because they pos-\\nsessed the power of inflicting harm. If the guillotine,\\nas applied to office-holders, were a literal fact, instead\\nof one of the most apt of metaphors, it is my sincere\\nbelief, that the active members of the victorious party\\nwere sufficiently excited to have chopped off all our\\nheads, and have thanked Heaven for the opportunity 1\\nIt appears to me who have been a calm and curious\\nobserver, as well in victory as defeat that this fierce\\nand bitter spirit of malice and revenge has never distin-\\nguished the many triumphs of my own party as it now did\\nthat of the Whigs. The Democrats take the offices, aa\\na general rule, because they need them, and because the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "THE CUSTORY-HOUSE.\\n47\\npractice of many years has made it the law of political\\nwarfare, which, unless a different system be proclaimed,\\nit were weakness and cowardice to murmur at. But the\\nlong habit of victory has made them generous. They\\nknow how to spare, when they see occasion and when\\nthey strike, the axe may be sharp, indeed, but its edge is\\nseldom poisoned with ill-will nor is it their custom igno*\\nminiously to kick the head which they have just struck\\noff.\\nIn short, unpleasant as was my predicament, at best,\\nI saw much reason to congratulate myself that I was on\\nthe losing side, rather than the triumphant one. If,\\nheretofore, I had been none of the warmest of parti-\\nsans,! began now, at this season of peril and adversity,\\nto be pretty acutely sensible with which party my predi-\\nlections lay; nor was it without something like regret\\nand shame, that, according to a reasonable calculation\\nof chances, I saw my own prospect of retaining office\\nto be better than those of my Democratic brethren. But\\nwho can see an inch into futurity, beyond his nose My\\nown head was the first that fell\\nThe moment when a man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s head drops off is seldom\\nor never, I am inclined to think, precisely the most\\nagreeable of kis life. Nevertheless, like the greater\\npart of our misfortunes, even so serious a contingency\\nbrings its remedy and consolation with it, if the sufferer\\nwill but make the best, rather than the worst, of the\\naccident which has befallen him. In my particular\\ncase, the consolatory topics were close at hand, and.\\nindeed, had suggested themselves to my meditations a\\nconsiderable time before it was requisite to use them,\\nIn view of my previous weariness of office, and vague", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "48\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER\\nthoughts of resignation, my fortune somewhat resembled\\nthat of a person who should entertain an idea of com-\\nmitting suicide, and, although beyond his hopes, meet\\nwith the good hap to be murdered. In the Custom-House,\\nes before in the Old Manse, I had spent three years a\\nterm long enough to rest a weary brain long enough to\\nbreak off old intellectual habits, and make room for new\\nones long enough, and too long, to have lived in an un-\\nnatural state, doing what was really of no advantage noi\\ndelight to any human being, and withholding myself\\nfrom toil that would, at least, have stilled an unquiet im-\\npulse in me. Then, moreover, as regarded his uncer-\\nemonious ejectment, the late Surveyor was not altogether\\nill-pleased to be recognized by the Whigs as an enemy\\nsince his inactivity in political affairs, his tendency to\\nroam, at will, in that broad and quiet field where all\\nmankind may meet, rather than confine himself to those\\nnarrow paths where brethren of the same household\\nmust diverge from one another, had sometimes mad*\\nit questionable with his brother Democrats whether he\\nWas a friend. Now, after he had won the crown of mar-\\ntyrdom, (though with no longer a head to wear it on,\u00e2\u0080\u0098\u00c2\u00bb\\nthe point might be looked upon as settled. Finally, lit-\\ntle heroic as he was, it seemed more decorous to be over-\\nthrown in the downfall of the party with which he had\\nbeen content to stand, than to remain a forlorn survivor,\\nwhen so many worthier men were falling and, at last,\\nafter subsisting for four years on the mercy of a hostile\\nadministration, to be compelled then to define his position\\nanew, and claim the yet more humiliating mercy of a\\nfriendly one.\\nMeanwhile the press had taken up my affair, and kept", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "TIIE CUSTOM-HOUSE.\\n43\\nme, for a week or two, careering through the public\\nprints, in my decapitated state, like Irving\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Headless\\nHorseman ghastly and grim, and longing to be buried,\\nos a politically dead man ought. So much for my figu-\\nrative self. The real human being, all this time, with his\\nhead safely on his shoulders, had brought himself to the\\ncomfortable conclusion that everything was for the best\\nand, making an investment in ink, paper, and steel-pens,\\nhad opened his long-disused writing-desk, and was again\\na literary man.\\nNow it was, that the lucubrations of my ancient pred-\\necessor, Mr. Surveyor Pue, came into play. Rusty\\nthrough long idleness, some little space was requisite\\nbefore my intellectual machinery could be brought to\\nwork upon the tale, with an effect in any degree satis-\\nfactory. Even yet, though my thoughts were ultimately\\nmuch absorbed in the task, it wears, .to my eye, a stem\\nand sombre aspect too much ungladdened by genial\\nsunshine too little relieved by the tender and familiar\\ninfluences which soften almost every scene of nature and\\nreal life, and, undoubtedly, should soften every picture\\nof them. This uncaptivating effect is perhaps due to the\\nperiod of hardly accomplished revolution, and still seeth-\\ning turmoil, in which the story shaped itself. It is no\\nindication, however, of a lack of cheerfulness in the\\nwriter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mind; for he was happier, while straying\\nthrough the gloom of these sunless fantasies, than at\\nany time since he had quitted the Old Manse. Some\\nof the briefer articles, which contribute to make up the\\nvolume, have likewise been written since my involuntary\\nwithdrawal from the toils and honors of public life, and\\nthe remainder are gleaned from annuals and magazines,\\n4", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "50\\nTHE SCARLET LETT Jilt.\\nof such antique date that they have gone round tne cn\\ncle, and come back to novelty again.* Keeping up the\\nmetaphor of the political guillotine, the whole may be\\nconsidered as the Posthumous Papers of a Decapitated\\nSurveyor and the sketch which I am now bringing to\\na close, if too autobiographical for a modest person to\\npublish in his lifetime, will readily be excused in a gen-\\ntleman who writes from beyond the grave. Peace be\\nwith all the world My blessing on my friends My\\nforgiveness to my enemies For I am in the realm of\\nquiet\\nThe life of the Custom-House lies like a dream behind\\nme. The old Inspector, who, by the by, I regret to\\nsay, was overthrown and killed by a horse, some time\\nago else he would certainly have lived forever, he,\\nand all those other venerable personages who sat with\\nhim at the receipt of custom, are but shadows in my\\nview; white-headed and wrinkled images, which my\\nfancy used to sport with, and has now flung aside for-\\never. The merchants, Pingree, Phillips, Shepard, Up-\\nton, Kimball, Bertram, Hunt, these, and many other\\nnames, which had such a classic familiarity for my ear\\nsix months ago, these men of traffic, who seemed to\\noccupy so important a position in the world, how lit-\\ntle time has it required to disconnect me from them all,\\nnot merely in act, but recollection It is with an\\neffort that I recall the figures and appellations of these\\nfew. Soon, likewise, my old native town will loom upon\\nme through the haze of memory, a mist brooding over\\nAt the time of writing this article, the author intended to publish,\\nalong with \u00e2\u0080\u009cThe Scarlet Letter,\u00e2\u0080\u009d several shorter tales and sketches\\nThese it has been thought advisable to defer.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "THE oTJSTOM-HOUSE.\\n51\\nAnd around it as if it were no portion of the real earth,\\nhut an overgrown village in cloud-land, with only imag-\\ninary inhabitants to people its wooden houses, and walk\\nits homely lanes, and the unpicturesque prolixity of its\\nmain street. Henceforth, it ceases to be a reality of my\\nlife. I am a citizen of somewhere else. My good\\ntownspeople will not much regret me for though it\\nhas been as dear an object as any, in my literary efforts,\\nto be of some importance in their eyes, and to win my-\\nself a pleasant memory in this abode and burial-place\\nof so many of my forefathers there has never been,\\nfor me, the genial atmosphere which a literary man\\nrequires, in order to ripen the best harvest of his mind,\\ni shall do better amongst other faces and these familiar\\nones, it need hardly be said, will do just as well without\\nme.\\nIt may be, however, O, transporting and triumphant\\nthought that the great-grandchildren of the present\\nrace may sometimes think kindly of the scribbler of by-\\ngone days, when the antiquary of days to come, among\\nthe sites memorable in the town\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hisUry, shall point\\nout the locality of The Town Pump", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "THE SCARLET LETTER\\nI.\\nTHE PRISON-DOOR.\\nA throng of bearded men, in sad-colored garments,\\nand gray, steepWrowned hats, intermixed with women,\\nsome wearing hoods, and others bareheaded, was assem-\\nbled in front of a wooden edifice, the door of which\\nwas heavily timbered with oak, and studded with iron\\nspikes.\\nThe founders of a new colony, whatever Utopia of\\nhuman virtue and happiness they might originally pro-\\nject, have invariably recognized it among their earliest\\npractical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil\\nas a cemetery, and another portion as the site of a prison.\\nIn accordance with this rule, it may safely be assumed\\nthat the forefathers of Boston had built the first prison-\\nhouse somewhere in the vicinity of Comhill, almost as\\nseasonably as they marked out the first burial-ground,\\non Isaac Johnson\u00e2\u0080\u0099s lot, and round about his grave, which\\nsubsequently became the nucleus of all the congregated\\nsepulchres in the old church-yard of King\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Chapel.\\nCertain it is, that, some fifteen or twenty years after the\\nsettlement of the town, the wooden jail was already\\nmarked with weather-stains and other indications of age.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "54\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nwhich gave a yet darker aspect to its beetle-browed and\\ngloomy front. The rust on the ponderous iron-work of\\nits oaken door looked more antique than anything else\\nin the New World. Like all that pertains to crime, it\\nseemed never to have known a youthful era. Before\\nthis ugly edifice, and between it and the wheel-track\\nof the street, was a grass-plot, much overgrown with\\nburdock, pig-weed, apple-peru, and such unsightly vege-\\ntation, which evidently found something congenial in\\nthe soil that had so early borne the black flower of civ\\nilized society, a prison. But, on one side of the portal,\\nand rooted almost at the threshold, was a wild rose-bush,\\ncovered, in this month of June, with its delicate gems,\\nwhich might be imagined to offer their fragrance and\\nfragile beauty to the prisoner as he went in, and to the\\ncondemned criminal as he came forth to his doom, in\\ntoken that the deep heart of Nature could pity and be\\nkind to him.\\nThis rose-bush, by a strange chance, has been kept\\nalive in history but whether it had merely survived out\\nof the stern old wilderness, so long after the fall of the\\ngigantic pines and oaks that originally overshadowed\\nit, or whether, as there is fair authority for believing,\\nit had sprung up under the footsteps of the sainted Ann\\nHutchinson, as she entered the prison-door, we shah\\nnet take upon us to determine. Finding it sc directly\\non the threshold of our narrative, which is now about to\\nissue from that inauspicious portal, we could hardly do\\notherwise than pluck one of its flowers, and jsresent it to\\nthe reader. It may serve, let us hope, to symbolize some\\nsweet moral blossom, that may be found along the track,\\nor relieve the darkening close of a tale of human frailty\\nand sorrow.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "r HI. MARKET-PLACE.\\nW\\nII.\\nTHE MARKET-PLACE.\\nThe grass-plot before the jail, in Prison-lane, oil a\\ncertain summer morning, not less than two centuries\\nago, was occupied by a pretty large numoer of the\\ninhabitants of Boston all with their eyes intently fast-\\nened on the iron-clamped oaken door. Amongst any\\nother population, or at a later period in the history of\\nNew England, the grim rigidity that petrified the bearded\\nphysiognomies of these good people would have augured\\nsome awfui business in hand. It could have betokened\\nnothing short of the anticipated execution of some noted\\nculprit, on whom the sentence of a legal tribunal had but\\nconfirmed the verdict of public sentiment. But, in that\\nearly severity of the Puritan character, an inference of\\nthis kind could not so indubitably be drawn. It might\\nbe that a sluggish bond-servant, or an un dutiful child,\\nwhom his parents had given over to the civil authority,\\nwas to be corrected at the whipping-post. It might be,\\nthat an Antinomian, a Quaker, or other heterodox relig-\\nionist, was to be scourged out of the town, or an idle and\\nvagrant Indian, whom the white man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s fire-water had\\nmade riotous about the streets, was to be driven with\\nstripes into the shadow of the forest. It might be, too,\\ntnat a witch, like old Mistress Hibbins, the bitter-\\ntempered widow of the magistrate, was to die upon the\\ngallows. In either case, there was very much the same\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2olemnity of lemeanor on the part of the spectators as", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "50\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nbefitted a people amongst whom religion and lav\u00c2\u00ae were\\nalmost identical, and in whose character both were si\\nthoroughly interfused, that the mildest and the severest\\nacts of public discipline were alike made venerable and\\nawful. Meagre, indeed, and cold, was the sympathy\\nthat a transgressor might look for, from such by\\nstanders, at the scaffold. On the other hand, a penalty\\nwhich, in our days, would infer a degree of mocking\\ninfamy and ridicule, might then be invested with\\nalmost as stem a dignity as the punishment of death\\nitself.\\nIt was a circumstance to be noted, on the summei\\nmorning when our story begins its course, that the\\nwomen, of whom there were several in the crowd,\\nappeared to take a peculiar interest in whatever penal\\ninfliction might be expected to ensue. The age had\\nnot so much refinement, that any sense of impropriety\\nrestrained the wearers of petticoat and farthingale fron\\nstepping forth into the public ways, and wedging their\\nnot unsubstantial persons, if occasion were, into the\\nthrong nearest to the scaffold at an execution. Morally,\\nas well as materially, there was a coarser fibre in those\\nwives and maidens of old English birth and breeding,\\nthan in their fair descendants, separated from them by\\na series of six or seven generations; for, throughout\\nthat chain of ancestry, every successive mother has\\ntransmitted to her child a fainter bloom, a more delicate\\nand briefer beauty, and a slighter physical frame, if not\\na character of less force and solidity, than her own.\\nThe women who were now standing about the prison-\\ndoor stood within less than half a century of the period\\nwhen the man-like Elizabeth had been the not alto*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "HIE MARKET-PLACE.\\n57\\ngether unsuitable representative of the sex. They were\\nher countrywomen and the beef and ale cf their native\\nland, with a moral diet not a whit more refined, entered\\nlargely into their composition. The bright morning\\nsun, therefore, shone on broad shoulders and well-\\ndeveloped busts, and on round and ruddy cheeks, that\\nhad ripened in the far-off island, and had hardly yet\\ngrown paler or thinner in the atmosphere of New\\nEngland. There was, moreover, a boldness and rotund\\nity of speech among these matrons, as most of tliem\\nseemed to be, that would startle us at the present day\\nwhether in respect to its purport or its volume of\\ntone.\\nGoodwives,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said a hard-featured dame of fifty,\\nI \u00e2\u0080\u0099ll tell ye a piece of my mind. It would be greatly\\nfor the public behoof, if we women, being of mature age\\nand church-members in good repute, should have the\\nhandling of such malefactresses as this Hester Prynne.\\nWhat think ye, gossips? If the hussy stood up for\\niudgment before us five, that are now here in a knot\\ntogether, would she come off with such a sentence as\\nthe worshipful magistrates have awarded? Marry, I\\ntrow not\\nPeople say,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said another, that the Reverend\\nMaster Dimmesdale, her godly pastor, takes it very\\ngrievously to heart that such a scandal shculd have\\ncome upon his congregation.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe magistrates are God-fearing gentlemen, but\\nmerciful overmuch, that is a truth,\u00e2\u0080\u009d added a third\\nautumnal matron. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAt the very least, they should\\nhave put the brand of a hot iron on Hester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099a\\nforenead. Madam Hester would have winced at that, I", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "THE SCARLET LET1ER.\\ntiQ\\nwarrant me. But she, the naughty baggage, little\\nwill she care what they put upon the bodice of her gown\\nWhy, look you, she may cover it with a brooch, or sucli\\nlike heathenish adornment, and so walk the streets as\\nbrave as ever\\nAh, but,\u00e2\u0080\u009d interposed, more softly, a young wife, hold-\\ning a child by the hand, let her cover the mark as she\\nwill, the pang of it will be always in her heart.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhat do we talk of marks and brands, whether on\\nthe bodice of her gown, or the flesh of her forehead\\ncried another female, the ugliest as well as the most pit\\niless of these self-constituted judges. This woman has\\nbrought shame upon us all, and ought to die. Is there\\nnot law for it Truly there is, both in the Scripture and\\nthe statute-book. Then let the magistrates, who have\\nmade it of no effect, thank themselves if their own wives\\nand daughters go astray\\nMercy on us, goodwife,\u00e2\u0080\u009d exclaimed a man in the\\ncrowd, is there no virtue in woman, save what springs\\nfrom a wholesome fear of the gallows That is the\\nhardest word yet Hush, now, gossips for the lock is\\nturning in the prison door, and here comes Mistress\\nPrynne herself.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe door of the jail being flung open from within,\\nthere appeared, in the first place, like a black shadow\\nemerging into sunshine, the grim and grisly presence\\nof the town-beadle, with a sword by his side, and his\\nstaff* of office in his hand. This personage prefigured\\nand represented in his aspect the whole dismal severity\\nof the Puritanic code of law, which it was his business\\nto administer in its final and closest application to the\\noffender. Stretching forth the official staff in his lefi", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "THE MARKET-PLACE.\\nhand, he laid his right upon the shoulder of a young\\nwoman, whom he thus drew forward; until, on the\\nthreshold of the prison-door, she repelled him, by an\\naction marked with natural dignity and force of charac-\\nter, and stepped into the open air, as if by her own free\\nwill. She bore in her arms a child, a baby of some\\nthree months old, who winked and turned aside its little\\nface from the too vivid light of day because its exist-\\nence, heretofore, had brought it acquainted only with the\\ngray twilight of a dungeon, or other darksome apartment\\nof the prison.\\nWhen the young woman the mother of this child\\nstood fully revealed before the crowd, it seemed to be\\nher first impulse to clasp the infant closely to her bosom\\nnot so much by an impulse of motherly affection, as that\\nshe might thereby conceal a certain token, which was\\nwrought or fastened into her dress. In a moment, how-\\never, wisely judging that one token of her shame would\\nbut poorly serve to hide another, she took the baby on\\nher arm, and, with a burning blush, and yet a haughty\\nsmile, and a glance that would not be abashed, looked\\naround at her townspeople and neighbors. On the breast\\nof her gown, in fine red cloth, surrounded with an elab-\\norate embroidery and fantastic flourishes of gold thread,\\nappeared the letter A. It was so artistically done, and\\nwith so much fertility and gorgeous luxuriance of fancy,\\nthat it had all the effect of a last and fitting decoration\\nto the apparel which she wore and which was of a\\nsplendor in accordance with the taste of the age, but\\ngreatly beyond what was allowed by the sumptuary reg-\\nulations of the colony.\\nThe young woman was tall, with a figure of perfect", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "60\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nwegcnce on a large scale. She had dark and abundant\\nnair, so glossy that it threw off the sunshine with a\\ngleam, and a face which, besides being beautiful from\\nregularity of feature and richness of complexion, had\\nthe impressiveness belonging to a marked brow and\\ndeep black eyes. She was lady-like, too, after the man-\\nner of the feminine gentility of those days character-\\nized by a certain state and dignity, rather than by the\\ndelicate, evanescent, and indescribable grace, which is\\nnow recognized as its indication. And never had Hester\\nPrynne appeared more lady-like, in the antique interpre*\\ntation of the term, than as she issued from the prison.\\nThose who had before known her, and had expected tc\\nbehold her dimmed and obscured by a disastrous cloud,\\nwere astonished, and even startled, to perceive how her\\nbeauty shone out, and made a halo of the misfortune and\\nignominy in which she was enveloped. It may be true,\\nthat, to a sensitive observer, there was something exqui-\\nsitely painful in it. Her attire, which, indeed, she had\\nwrought for the occasion, in prison, and had modelled\\nmuch after her own fancy, seemed to express the attitude\\nof her spirit, the desperate recklessness of her mood, by\\nits wild and picturesque peculiarity. But the point which\\ndrew all eyes, and, as it were, transfigured the wearer,\\nso that both men and women, who had been familiarly\\nacquainted with Hester Prynne, were now impressed as\\nif they beheld her for the first time, was that Scarlet\\nLetter, so fantastically embroidered and illuminated\\nupon her bosom. It had the effect of a spel taking hei\\nout of the ordinary relations with humanity, and enclos-\\ning her in a sphere by herself.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cShe hath good skill at her needle, that\u00e2\u0080\u0099s certain/", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "THE MA11KET-PLACE.\\n6\\nremarked one of her female spectators \u00e2\u0080\u009ctut did ever u\\nwoman, before this brazen hussy, contrive such a way\\nof showing it Why, gossips, what is it but to laugh in\\nthe faces of our godly magistrates, and make a pride\\nout of what they, worthy gentlemen, meant for a punish-\\nment?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt were well,\u00e2\u0080\u009d muttered the most iron-visaged of the\\nold dames, if we stripped Madam Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s rich gown\\noff her dainty shoulders and as for the red letter, which\\nshe hath stitched so curiously, I \u00e2\u0080\u0099ll bestow a rag of mine\\nown rheumatic flannel, to make a fitter one\\nO, peace, neighbors, peace whispered their young-\\nest companion do not let her hear you Not a stitch\\nin that embroidered letter, but she has felt it in her\\nheart.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe grim beadle now made a gesture with his staff.\\nMake way, good people, make way, in the King\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nname cried he. Open a passage and, I promise\\nye, Mistress Prynne shall be set where man, woman\\nand child, may have a fair sight of her brave apparel,\\nfrom this time till an hour past merid\u00e2\u0080\u0099an. A blessing on\\nthe righteous Colony of the Massachusetts, where in-\\niquity is dragged out into the sunshine Come along,\\nMadam Hester, and show your scarlet letter in the\\nmarket-place\\nA lane was forthwith opened through the crowd of\\nspectators. Preceded by the beadle, and attended by\\nan irregular procession of stem-browed men and un\\nkindly visaged women, Hester Prynne set forth toward*\\nthe place appointed for her punishment. A crowd of\\neager and curious school-boys, understanding little of the\\nmatter in hand, except that it gave them a half-holiday,", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "62\\nTill: SCARLET LETTER.\\nfan before her progress, turning their heads continually\\nto stare into her face, and at the winking baby in hex\\narms, and at the ignominious letter on her breast. It\\nwas no great distance, in those days, from the prison-\\ndoor to the market-place. Measured by the prisoner\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nexperience, however, it might be reckoned a journey of\\nsome length for, haughty as her demeanor was, she per-\\nchance underwent an agony from every footstep of those\\nthat thronged to see her, as if her heart had been flung\\ninto the street for them all to spurn and trample upon.\\nIn our nature, however, there is a provision, alike mar-\\nvellous and merciful, that the sufferer should never know\\nthe intensity of what he endures by its present torture,\\nbut chiefly by the pang that rankles after it. With\\nalmost a serene deportment, therefore, Hester Prynne\\npassed through this portion of her ordeal, and came to a\\nsort of scaffold, at the western extremity of the market-\\nplace. It stood nearly beneath the eaves of Boston\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nearliest church, and appeared to be a fixture there.\\nIn fact, this scaffold constituted a portion of a penal\\nmachine, which now, for two or three generations past,\\nhas been merely historical and traditionary among us,\\nbut was held, in the old time, to be as effectual an agent,\\nin the promotion of good citizenship, as ever was the\\nguillotine among the terrorists of France. It was, in\\nshort, the platform of the pillory and above it rose the\\nframework of that instrument of discipline, so fash-\\nioned as to confine the human head in its tight grasp,\\nand thus hold it up to the public gaze. The very ideal\\nof ignominy was embodied and made manifest in this\\ncontrivance of wood and iron. There can be no out-\\nrage, methinks, against our common nature, whatever", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "THE MARKET-PL* ofc.\\n6a\\nbe the delinquencies of the individual, no outrage\\nmore flagrant than to forbid the culprit to hide his face\\nfor shame as it was the essence of this punishment to\\ndo. In Hester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s instance, however, as not un-\\nfrequency in other cases, her sentence bore, that she\\nshould stand a certain time upon the platform, but with-\\nout undergoing that gripe about the neck and confine-\\nment of the head, the proneness to which was the most\\ndevilish characteristic of this ugly engine. Knowing\\nwell her ]5art, she ascended a flight of wooden steps, and\\nwas thus displayed to the surrounding multitude, at\\nabout the height of a man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s shoulders above the street.\\nHad there been a Papist among the crowd of Puritans,\\nhe might have seen in this beautiful woman, so pictur-\\nesque in her attire and mien, and with the infant at her\\nbosom, an object to remind him of the image of Divine\\nMaternity, which so many illustrious painters have vied\\nwith one another to represent something which should\\nremind him, indeed, but only by contrast, of that sacred\\nimage of sinless motherhood, whose infant was to redeem\\nthe world. Here, there was the taint of deepest sin in\\nthe most sacred quality of human life, working such\\neffect, that the world was only the darker for this\\nwoman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s beauty, and the more lost for the infant that\\nshe had borne.\\nThe scene was not without a mixture of awe, such\\nas must always invest the spectacle of guilt and shame\\nin a feuow-creature, before society shall have grown\\ncorrupt enough to smile, instead of shuddering, at it.\\nThe witnesses of Hester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s disgrace had not yet\\npassed beyond their simplicity. They were stem enough\\nto look upon her death, had that been the sentence, wun", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "64\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nout a mirmur at its severity, but had none of the heart-\\nlessness of another social state, which would find only a\\ntheme for jest in an exhibition like the present. Even\\nhad there been a disposition to turn the matter into ridi-\\ncule, it must have been repressed and overpowered by\\nthe solemn presence of men no less dignified than the\\nGovernor, and several of his counsellors, a judge, a gen-\\neral, and the ministers of the town all of whom sat or\\nstood in a balcony of the meeting-house, looking down\\nupon the platform. When such personages could con-\\nstitute a part of the spectacle, without risking the maj-\\nesty or reverence of rank and office, it was safely to be\\ninferred that the infliction of a legal sentence would\\nhave an earnest and effectual meaning. Accordingly,\\nthe crowd was sombre and grave. The unhappy culprit\\nsustained herself as best a woman might, under the\\nheavy weight of a thousand unrelenting eyes, all fast-\\nened upon her, and concentrated at her bosom. It was\\nalmost intolerable to be borne. Of an impulsive and\\npassionate nature, she had fortified herself to encounter\\nthe stings and venomous stabs of public contumely,\\nwreaking itself in every variety of insult; but there\\nwas a quality so much more terrible in the solemn mood\\nof the popular mind, that she longed rather to behold all\\nthose rigid countenances contorted with scornful merri\\nment, and herself the object. Had a roar of laughter\\nburst from the multitude, each man, each woman,\\neach ittle shrill-voiced child, contributing their individ-\\nual parts, Hester Prynne might have repaid them all\\nwith a bitter and disdainful smile. But, under the leaden\\ninfliction which it was her doom to endure, she felt at\\nmoments, as if she must needs shriek out with the full", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "TIIE MARKET-PLACE.\\n65\\npower of her lungs, and cast herself from the scaffold\\ndown upon the ground, or else go mad at once.\\nYet there were intervals when the whole scene, in\\nwhich she was the most conspicuous object, seemed to\\nvanish from her eyes, or, at least, glimmered indistinctly\\nbefore them, like a mass of imperfectly shaped and spec*\\ntral images. Her mind, and especially her memory, waa\\npretematurally active, and kept bringing up other scene?\\nthan this roughly hewn street of a little town, on the\\nedge of the Western wilderness other faces than were\\nlowering upon her from beneath the brims of those stee-\\nple-crowned hats. Reminiscences, the most trifling and\\nimmaterial, passages of infancy and school-days, sports,\\nchildish quarrels, and the little domestic traits of her\\nmaiden years, came swarming back upon her, inter-\\nmingled with recollections of whatever was gravest in\\nher subsequent life one picture precisely as vivid as\\nanother as if all were of similar importance, or all alike\\na play. Possibly, it was an instinctive device of her\\nspirit, to relieve itself, by the exhibition of these phantas-\\nmagoric forms, from the cruel weight and hardness of\\nthe reality.\\nBe that as it might, the scaffold of the pillory was a\\np;irt of view that revealed to Hester Prynne the entire\\ntrack along which she had been treading, since her happy\\ninfancy. Standing on that miserable eminence, she saw\\nagain her native village, in Old England, and her pater-\\nnal home a decayed house of gray stone, with a pov-\\nerty-stricken aspect, but retaining a half-obliterated shield\\nof arms over the portal, in token of antique gentility.\\nShe saw her father\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face, with its bal 1 brow, and rev-\\nerend w r hite beard, that flowed over the old-fashioned\\n5", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "r\u00c2\u00bb6\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nElizabethan ruff; her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, too, with the look of\\nheedful and anxious love which it always wore in her\\nremembrance, and which, even since her death, had so\\noften laid the impediment of a gentle remonstrance in\\nher daughter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pathway. She saw her own face, glow-\\ning with girlish beauty, and illuminating all the interior\\nof the dusky mirror in which she had been wont to gaze\\nat it. There she beheld another countenance, of a man\\nwell stricken in years, a pale, thin, scholar-like visage,\\nwith eyes dim and bleared by the lamp-light that had\\nserved them to pore over many ponderous books. Yet\\nthose same bleared optics had a strange, penetrating\\npower, when it was their owner\u00e2\u0080\u0099s purpose to read the\\nhuman soul. This figure of the study and the cloister, as\\nHester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s womanly fancy failed not to recall, was\\nslightly deformed, with the left shoulder a trifle higher\\nthan the right. Next rose before her, in memory\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pic-\\nture-gallery, the intricate and narrow thoroughfares, the\\ntall, gray houses, the huge cathedrals, and the public\\nedifices, ancient in date and quaint in architecture, of a\\nContinental city; where a new life had awaited her, still\\nin connection with the misshapen scholar a new life,\\nbut feeding itself on time-worn materials, like a tuft of\\ngreen moss on a crumbling wall. Lastly, in lieu of\\nthese shifting scenes, came back the rude market-place\\nof the Puritan settlement, with all the townspeople as-\\nsembled and levelling their stem regards at Hester\\nPrynne, yes, at herself, who stood on the scaffold\\nof the pillory, an infant on her arm, and the letter A, in\\nscarlet, fantastically embroidered with gold thread, upon\\nher bosom\\nCould it be true She clutched the child so fiercely", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "THE MARKET-PLACE.\\n61\\nto hei breast, that it sent forth a cry she turned hei yes\\ndownward at the scarlet letter, and even touched it witn\\nher finger, to assure herself that the infant and the\\nshame were real. Yes \u00c2\u00a3.ese were her realities,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\n\u00c2\u00abU else had vanished", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "TTIE SCARLET LETTER\\n^8\\nITT.\\nTHE RECOGNITION.\\nFrom this intense consciousness of being the object\\nof severe and universal observation, the wearer of the\\nscarlet letter was at length relieved, by discerning, on\\nthe outskirts of the crowd, a figure which irresistibly\\ntook possession of her thoughts. An Indian, in his\\nnative garb, was standing there but the red men were\\nnot so infrequent visitors of the English settlements,\\nthat one of them would have attracted any notice from\\nHester Pryrme, at such a time; much less would he\\nhave excluded all other objects and ideas from her mind.\\nBy the Indian\u00e2\u0080\u0099s side, and evidently sustaining a com-\\npanionship with him, stood a white man, clad in a\\nstrange disarray of civilized and savage costume.\\nHe was small in stature, with a furrowed visage,\\nwhich, as yet, could hardly be termed aged. There was\\na remarkable intelligence in his features, as of a person\\nwho had so cultivated his mental part that it could not\\nfail to mould the physical to itself, and become manifest\\nby unmistakable tokens. Although, by a seemingly care-\\nless arrangement of his heterogeneous garb, he had\\nendeavored to conceal or abate the peculiarity, it was\\nsufficiently evident to Hester Prynne, that one of this\\nman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s shoulders rose higher than the other. Again, at\\nthe first instant of perceiving that thin visage, and the\\nslight deformity of the figure, she pressed her infant tc\\nher bosom, with so convulsive a force that the poor babe", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "T1IE RECOGNITION.\\naltered another cry of pain. But the mother did not\\nseem to hear it.\\nAt his arrival in the market-place, and some time\\nbefore she saw him, the stranger had bent his eyes on\\nHester Prynne. It was carelessly, at first, like a man\\nchiefly accustomed to look inward, and to whom external\\nmatters a~e of little value and import, unless they bear\\nrelation to something within his mind. Very soon, how-\\never, his look became keen and penetrative. A writhing\\nhorror twisted itself across his features, like a snake\\ngliding swiftly over them, and making one little pause,\\nwith all its wreathed intervolutions in open sight. His\\nface darkened with some powerful emotion, which, nev-\\nertheless, he so instantaneously controlled by an effort\\nof his will, that, save at a single moment, its expression\\nmight have passed for calmness. After a brief space,\\nthe convulsion grew almost imperceptible, and finally\\nsubsided into the depths of his nature. When he found\\nthe eyes of Hester Prynne fastened on his own, and\\nsaw that she appeared to recognize him, he slowly and\\ncalmly raised his finger, made a gesture with it in the\\nair, and laid it on his lips.\\nThen, touching the shoulder of a townsman who stood\\nnext to him, he addressed him, in a formal and courteous\\nmanner.\\nI pray you, good Sir,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, who is this woman\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2and wherefore is she here set up to public shame\\nYou must needs be a stranger in this region, friend,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nanswered the townsman, looking curiously at the ques-\\ntioner and his savage companion, else you would\\nsurely have heard of Mistress Hester Prynne, and hot", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "TV\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nevil doings. She hath raised a great scandal, I promise\\nyou, in godly Master Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s church.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nou say truly,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied the other. I am a stran\\nger, and have been a wanderer, sorely against my will\\nI have met with grievous mishaps by sea and land, and\\nhave been long held in bonds among the heathen-folk,\\nto the southward and am now brought hither by thi3\\nIndian, to be redeemed out of my captivity. Will it\\nplease you, therefore, to tell me of Hester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s,\\nhave I her name rightly? of this woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s offences,\\nand what has biought her to yonder scaffold\\nTruly, friend and methinks it must gladden your\\nheart, after your troubles and sojourn in the wilderness,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nsaid the townsman, to find yourself, at length, in a\\nland where iniquity is searched out, and punished in the\\nsight of rulers and people as here in our godly New\\nEngland. Yonder woman, Sir, you must know, was\\nthe wife of a certain learned man, English by birth, but\\nwho had long dwelt in Amsterdam, whence, some good\\ntime agone, he was minded to cross over and cast in his\\nlot with us of the Massachusetts. To this purpose, he\\nsent his wife before him, remaining himself to look after\\nsome necessary affairs. Marry, good Sir, in some two\\nyears, or less, that the woman has been a dweller here\\nin Boston, no tidings have come of this learned gentle-\\nman, Master Prynne; and his young wife, look you,\\nbeing left to her own misguidance\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAh! aha! I conceive you,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the stranger,\\nwith a bitter smile. So learned a man as you speak\\nof should have learned this too in his books. And who,\\nby your favor, Sir, may be the father of yonder babe", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "THE RECOGNITION.\\n71\\nit is some tnree or four months old, I should judge\\nwhich Mistress Prynne is holding in her arms?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cOf a truth, friend, that matter remaineth a riddle;\\nand the Daniel who shall expound it is yet a-wanting,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nanswered the townsman. Madam Hester absolutely\\nrefuseth to speak, and the magistrates have laid their\\nheads together in vain. Peradventure the guilty one\\nstands looking on at this sad spectacle, unknown of man,\\nand forgetting that God sees him.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThe learned man,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed the stranger, with\\nanother smile, \u00e2\u0080\u009cshould come himself, to look into the\\nmystery.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt behooves him well, if he be still in life,\u00e2\u0080\u009d responded\\nthe townsman. \u00e2\u0080\u009cNow, good Sir, our Massachusetts\\nmagistracy, bethinking themselves that this woman is\\nyouthful and fair, and doubtless was strongly tempted to\\nher fall; and that, moreover, as is most likely, her\\nhusband may be at the bottom of the sea they have\\nnot been bold to put in force the extremity of our right-\\neous law against her. The penalty thereof is death.\\nBut in their great mercy and tenderness of heart, they\\nhave doomed Mistress Prynne to stand only a space of\\nthree hours on the platform of the pillory, and then and\\nthereafter, for the remainder of her natural life, to wear\\na mark of shame upon her bosom.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0098A wise sentence!\u00e2\u0080\u009d remarked the stranger, gravely\\nbowing his head. Thus she will be a living sermon\\nagainst sin, until the ignominious letter be engraved\\nupon her tomb-stone. It irks me, nevertheless, that the\\npartner of her iniquity should not, at least, stand on the\\nscaffold by her side. But he will be known! he wil/\\nbe known he will be known!", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "72\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nHe bowed courteously to the communicative towns-\\nman, and, whispering a few words to his Indian attend-\\nant, they both made their way through the crowd.\\nWhile this passed, Hester Prynne had been standing\\non her pedestal, still with a fixed gaae towards the\\nstranger so fixed a gaze, that, at moments of intense\\nabsorption, all other objects in the visible world seemea\\nto vanish, leaving only him and her. Such an inter-\\nview, perhaps, would have been more terrible than even\\nto meet him as she now did, with the hot, midday sun\\nburning down upon her face, and lighting up its shame\\nwith the scarlet token of infamy on her breast; with\\nthe sin-born infant in her arms with a whole people,\\ndrawn forth as to a festival, staring at the features that\\nshould have been seen only in the quiet gleam of the\\nfireside, in the happy shadow of a home, or beneath a\\nmatronly veil, at church. Dreadful as it was, she was\\nconscious of a shelter in the presence of these thousand\\nwitnesses. It was better to stand thus, with so many\\noetwixt him and her, than to greet him, face to face, they\\ntwo alone. She fled for refuge, as it were, to the pub-\\nlic exposure, and dreaded the moment when its protection\\nshould be withdrawn from her. Involved in these\\nthoughts, she scarcely heard a voice behind her, until it\\nhad repeated her name more than once, in a loud and\\nsolemn tone, audible to the whole multitude.\\nHearken unto me, Hester Prynne said the voice.\\nIt has already been noticed, that directly over the plat-\\nform on which Hester Prynne stood was a kind of\\nbalcony, or open gallery, appended to the meeting-house.\\nIt was the place whence proclamations were wont to be\\nmade, amidst an assemblage of the magistracy, with all", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "THE RECOGNITION.\\n73\\nthe ceremoniiil that attended such public observances in\\nthose days. Here, to witness the scene which we arc\\ndescribing, sat Governor Bellingham himself, with fom\\nsergeants about his chair, bearing halberds, as a guard of\\nnonor. He wore a dark feather in his hat, a border of\\nembroidery on his cloak, and a black velvet tunic beneath\\na gentleman advanced in years, with a hard experience\\nwritten in his wrinkles. He was not ill fitted to be the\\nhead and representative of a community, which owed its\\norigin and progress, and its present state of development,\\nnot to the impulses of youth, but to the stern and tempered\\nenergies of manhood, and the sombre sagacity of age\\naccomplishing so much, precisely because it imagined\\nand hoped so little. The other eminent characters, by\\nwhom the chief ruler was surrounded, were distinguished\\nby a dignity of mien, belonging to a period when the\\nforms of authority were felt to possess the sacredness of\\nDivine institutions. They were, doubtless, good men,\\njust, and sage. But, out of the whole human family, it\\nwould not have been easy to select the same number of\\nwise and virtuous persons, who should be less capable\\nof sitting in judgment on an erring woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart, and\\ndisentangling its mesh of good and evil, than the sages\\nof rigid aspect towards whom Hester Prynne now turned\\nher face. She seemed conscious, indeed, that whatever\\nsympathy she might expect lay in the larger and w f arme*\\nheart of the multitude for, as she lifted her eyes towards\\nthe balcony, the unhappy woman grew pale and trembled.\\nThe voice which had called her attention was that of\\nthe reverend and famous John Wilson, the eldest clergy-\\nman of Boston, a great scholar, like most of his contem-\\nporaries in the profession, and withal a man of kind and", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "74\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\ngenial spirit. This last attribute, however, had been less\\ncarefully developed than his intellectual gifts, and wa?\\nin truth, rather a matter of shame than self-con gratu la\\ntion with him. There he stood, with a border of grizzled\\nlocks beneath his skull-cap while his gray eyes, accus\\ntomed to the shaded light of his study, were winking,\\nlike those of Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s infant, in the unadulterated sun-\\nshine. He looked like the darkly engraved portraits\\nwhich we see prefixed to old volumes of sermons and\\nhad no more right than one of those portraits would have,\\nto step forth, as he now did, and meddle with a question\\nof human guilt, passion and anguish.\\nHester Prynne,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the clergyman, I have striven\\nwith my young brother here, under whose preaching of\\nthe word you have been privileged to sit,\u00e2\u0080\u009d here Mr.\\nWilson laid his hand on the shoulder of a pale young\\nman beside him, \u00e2\u0080\u009cI have sought, I say, to persuade\\nthis godly youth, that he should deal with you, here in\\nthe face of Heaven, and before these wise and upright\\nrulers, and in hearing of all the people, as touching the\\nvileness and blackness of your sin. Knowing your nat-\\nural temper better than I, he could the better judge what\\narguments to use, whether of tenderness or terror, such\\nas might prevail over your hardness and obstinacy inso-\\nmuch that you should no longer hide the name of him\\nwho tempted you to this grievous fall. But he opposes\\nto me, (with a young man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s over-softness, albeit wise\\nDeyond his years,) that it were wronging the very nature\\nof woman to force her to lay open her heart\u00e2\u0080\u0099s secrets in\\nsuch broad daylight, and in presence of so great a mul-\\ntitude. Truly, as I sought to convince him, the shame\\nlay in the commission of the sin, and not in the showing", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "of it forth.\\nDimmesdale\\nthis poor sinr\\nThere was\\ngnd occupant\\ngave expressi\\ntive voice, alt\\nyouthful clerg\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cGood Mas,\\nbility of this wo\\nhooves you, t\\\\v\\nto confession,\\nThe dire\\nwhole cro\\nyoung ch\\nEnglish\\ninto our\\nfervor h\\nhis prof\\nwith a\\nmela\\nforcil\\nin g\\nresti\\nscho\\nyou\\nfri\\nv", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "ought, which,\\ns speech of an\\nReverend Mr.\\nI so openly to\\nthe hearing of\\n;oul, so sacred\\nof his position\\nxe his lips trem-\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2said Mr. W ilson.\\n^re, as the wor-\\nine own, in\\n2onfess the\\nhead, in\\nvard.\\nbalcony\\nou hear-\\n\\\\tability\\nsoul\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0099by be\\nspeak\\nerer\\nss foi\\nstep\\non\\nMe\\no\\nt", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "THE RECOGNITION.\\n71\\nout an open triumph over the evil withir thee, nd th*\\nsorrow without. Take heed how thou deniest to him\\nwho, perchance, hath not the courage to grasp it for hiir\\nself the bitter, but wholesome, cup that is now pre\\nsented to thy lips\\nThe young pastor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice was tremulously sweet, rich,\\ndeep, and broken. The feeling that it so evidently man\\nifested, rather than the direct purport of the words, caused\\nit to vibrate within all hearts, and brought the listeners\\ninto one accord of sympathy. Even the poor baby, ai\\nHester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom, was affected by the same influence fo*\\nit directed its hitherto vacant gaze towards Mr. Dimmes\\ndale, and held up its little arms, with a half pleased,\\nhalf plaintive murmur. So powerful seemed the minis-\\nter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s appeal, that the people could not believe but that\\nHester Prynne would speak out the guilty name or\\nelse that the guilty one himself, in whatever high or\\nlowly place he stood, would be drawn forth by an inward\\nand inevitable necessity, and compelled to ascend the\\nscaffold.\\nHester shook her head.\\nWoman, transgress not beyond the limits of Heaven\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nmercy!\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried the Reverend Mr. Wilson, more harshly\\nthan before. That little babe hath been gifted with a\\nvoice, to second and confirm the counsel which thou hast\\nheard. Speak out the name That, and thy repentance,\\nmay avail to take the scarlet letter off thy breast.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNever replied Hester Prynne, looking, not at Mr.\\nWilson, but into the deep and troubled eyes of the\\nyounger clergyman. \u00e2\u0080\u009cIt is too deeply branded. Ye\\ncannot take it off. And would that I might endure his\\nagony, as well as mine", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "78\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nSpeak, woman said another voice, coldly and\\nsternly, proceeding from the crowd about the scaffold,\\nSpeak and give your ch II a father\\nI will not speak answered Hester, turning pa*e as\\ndeath, but responding to this voice, which she too surely\\nrecognized. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd my child must seek a heavenly\\nFather; she shall never know an earthly one\\nShe will not speak murmured Mr. Dimmesdale,\\nwho, leaning over the balcony, with his hand upon his\\nheart, had awaited the result of his appeal. He now\\nd rew back, with a long respiration. W ondrous strength\\nand generosity of a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart She will not\\nspeak\\nDiscerning the impracticable state of the poor culprit\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nmind, the elder clergyman, who had carefully prepared\\nhimself for the occasion, addressed to the multitude a\\ndiscourse on sin, in all its branches, but with continual\\nreference to the ignominious letter. So forcibly did he\\ndwell upon this symbol, for the hour or more during\\nwhich his periods ware rolling over the people\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heads,\\nthat it assumed new terrors in their imagination, and\\nseemed to derive its scarlet hue from the flames of the\\ninfernal pit. Hester Prynne, meanwhile, kept her place\\nupon the pedestal of shame, with glazed eyes, and an air\\nof weary indifference. She had borne, that morning, all\\nthat nature could endure and as her temperament was\\nnot of the order that escapes from too intense suffering\\nby a swoon, her spirit could only shelter itself beneath a\\nstony crust of insensibility, while the faculties ot animal\\nlife remained entire. In this state, the voice of the\\npreacher thundered remorselessly, but unavailingly, upon\\nher ears. The infant, during the latter portion of her", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "THE RECOGNITION.\\n79\\nordeal, pierced the air with its wailings and screams\\nshe strove to hush it, mechanically, but seemed scarcely\\nto sympathize with its trouble. With the same hard\\ndemeanor, she was led back to prison, and vanished\\nfrom the public gaze within its iron-clamped portal.\\nIt was whispered, by those who peered after her, that\\nthe scarlet letter threw a lurid gleam along the dark\\npassage-way of the interior.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "80\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nIY.\\nTHE INTERVIEW.\\nAfter her return to the prison, Hester Prynne was\\nfound to be in a state of nervous excitement that de-\\nmanded constant watchfulness, lest she should perpetrate\\nviolence on herself, or do some half-frenzied mischief to\\nthe poor babe. As night approached, it proving impos-\\nsible to quell her insubordination by rebuke or threats\\nof punishment, Master Brackett, the jailer, thought fit\\n1o introduce a physician. He described him as a man of\\nskill in all Christian modes of physical science, and like-\\nwise familiar with whatever the savage people could\\nteach, in respect to medicinal herbs and roots that grew\\nin the forest. To say the truth, there was much need\\nof professional assistance, not merely for Hester herself,\\nbut still more urgently for the child who, drawing its\\nsustenance from the maternal bosom, seemed to have\\ndrank in with it all the turmoil, the anguish and de-\\nspair, which pervaded the mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s system. It now\\nwrithed in convulsions of pain, and was a forcible type,\\nin its little frame, of the moral agony which Hester\\nPrynne had borne throughout the day.\\nClosely following the jailer into the dismal apartment\\nappeared that individual, of singular aspect, whose pres-\\nence in the crowd had been of such deep interest to the\\nwearer of the scarlet letter. He was lodged in the prison,\\nnot as suspected of any offence, but as the most conven-\\nient and suitable mode of disposing of him, until the mag-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "THE INTERVIEW.\\n81\\nMtrates should have conferred with the Indian sagamores\\nrespecting his ransom. His name was announced as\\nRoger Chillingworth. The jailer, after ushering him\\ninto the room, remained a moment, marvelling at the\\ncomparative q uiet that followed his entrance for Hester\\nPrynne had immediately become as still as death,\\nalthough the child continued to moan.\\nPrithee, friend, leave me alone with my patient,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nsaid the practitioner. Trust me, good jailer, you shall\\nbriefly have peace in your house and, I promise you,\\nMistress Prynne shall hereafter be more amenable to just\\nauthority than you may have found her heretofore.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNay, if your worship can accomplish that,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered\\nMaster Brackett, I shall own you for a man of skill\\nindeed Verily, the woman hath been like a possessed\\none and there lacks little, that I should take in hand to\\ndrive Satan out of her with stripes.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe stranger had entered the room with the charac-\\nt -ristic quietude of the profession to which he announced\\nhimself as belonging. Nor did his demeanor change,\\nwhen the withdrawal of the prison-keeper left him face\\nto face with the woman, whose absorbed notice of him,\\nin the crowd, had intimated so close a relation between\\nhimself and her. His first care was given to the child\\nwhose cries, indeed, as she lay writhing on the trundle-\\nbed, made it of peremptory necessity to postpone all other\\nbusiness to the task of soothing her. He examined the\\ninfant carefully, and then proceeded to unclasp a leath-\\nern case, which he took from beneath his dress. It ap-\\npeared to contain medical preparations, one of which he\\nmingled with a cup of water.\\nMy old studies in alchemy,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed he in m;", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "82\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nsojourn, for above a year past, among a people well versed\\nin the kindly properties of simples, have made a better\\nDhysician of me than many that claim the medical degree.\\nHere, woman The child is yours, she is none of\\nmine, neither will she recognize my voice or aspect as\\na father\u00e2\u0080\u0099s. Administer this draught, therefore, with\\nthine own hand\\nHester repelled the offered medicine, at the same time\\ngazing with strongly marked apprehension into liis face.\\nWouldst thou avenge thyself on the innocent babe\\nwhispered she.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cFoolish woman!\u00e2\u0080\u009d responded the physician, half\\ncoldly, half soothingly. What should ail me, to harm\\nthis misbegotten and miserable babe The medicine is\\npotent for good and were it my child, yea, mine own,\\nas well as thine I could do no better for it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAs she still hesitated, being, in fact, in no reasonable\\nstate of mind, he took the infant in his arms, and him-\\nself administered the draught. It soon proved its efficacy,\\nand redeemed the leech\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pledge. The moans of the\\nlittle patient subsided its convulsive tossings gradually\\nceased; and, in a few moments, as is the custom of\\nyoung children after relief from pain, it sank into a pro-\\nfound and dewy slumber. The physician, as he had a\\nfair right to be termed, next bestowed his attention on\\nthe mother. With calm and intent scrutiny, he felt her\\npulse, looked into her eyes, a gaze that made her heart\\nshrink and shudder, because so familiar, and yet so\\nstrange and cold, and, finally, satisfied with his inves-\\ntigation, proceeded to mingle another draught.\\nI know not Lethe nor Nepenthe,\u00e2\u0080\u009d remarked he but\\nhave learned many new secrets in the wilderness, and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "THE INTERVIEW.\\n63\\nhere is one of them, a recipe that an Indian taught\\nme, in requital of some lessons of my own, that were as\\nold as Paracelsus. Drink it It may be less soothing\\nthan a sinless conscience. That I cannot give thee. But\\ntwill calm the swell and heaving of thy passion, like oil\\nthrown on the waves of a tempestuous sea.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHe presented the cup to Hester, who received it with\\na slow, earnest look into his face not precisely a look of\\nfear, yet full of d mbt and questioning, as to what his\\npurposes might be. She looked also at her slumbering\\nchild.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cI have thought of death,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, \u00e2\u0080\u009chave wished\\nfor it, would even have prayed for it, were it fit that\\nsuch as I should pray for anything. Yet, if death be in\\nthis cup, I bid thee think again, ere thou beholdest me\\nquaff it. See It is even now at my lips.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nDrink, then,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied he, still with the same cold\\ncomposure. \u00e2\u0080\u009cDost thou know me so little, Hester\\nPrynne? Are my purposes wont to be so shallow?\\nE ^en if I imagine a scheme of vengeance, what could I\\ndo better for my object than to let thee live, than to\\ngive thee medicines against all harm and peril of life,\\nso that this burning shame may still blaze upon thy\\nbosom As he spoke, he laid his long forefinger on\\nthe scarlet letter, which forthwith seemed tc scorch into\\nHester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s breast, as if it had been red-hot. He noticed\\nher involuntary gesture, and smiled. Live, therefore,\\nand bear about thy doom with thee, in the eyes of men\\nand women, in the eyes of him whom thou didst call\\nthy husband, in the eyes of yonder child! And, that\\nthou mayest live, take off this draught.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWithout further expostulation or delay Hester Prynne", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "84\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\ndrained the cup, and, at the motion of the man of skil\\nseated herself on the bed whore the child was sleeping;\\nwhile ho drew the only chair which the room afforded,\\nand took his own seat beside her. She could not but\\ntremble at these preparations for she felt that having\\nnow done a*l that humanity, or principle, or, if so it were,\\na refined cruelty, impelled him to do, for the relief of\\nphysical suffering he was next to treat with her as the\\nman whom she had most deeply and irreparably injured.\\nHester,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, I ask not wherefore, nor how, thou\\nhast fallen into the pit, or say, rather, thou hast ascended\\nto the pedestal of infamy, on which I found thee. The\\nreason is not far to seek. It was my folly, and thy weak-\\nness. I, a man of thought, the book-worm of great\\nlibraries, a man already in decay, having given my\\nbest years to feed the hungry dream of knowledge,\\nwhat had I to do with youth and beauty like thine own\\nMisshapen from my birth-hour, how could I delude my-\\nself with the idea that intellectual gifts might veil physi-\\ncal deformity in a young girl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s fantasy Men call me\\nwise. If sages were ever wise in their own behoof, 1\\nmight have foreseen all this. I might have known that\\nns I came out of the vast and dismal forest, and entered\\nthis settlement of Christian men, the very first object to\\nmeet my eyes would be thyself, Hester Prynne, standing\\nup, a statue of ignominy, before the people. Nay, from\\nthe moment when we came down the old church-steps\\ntogether, a married pair, I might have beheld the bale-fire\\nof that scarlet letter blazing at the end of our path\\nThou knowest,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester, for, depressed as she\\nwas, she could not endure this last quiet staV at the token", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "THU INTERVIEW.\\n85\\nof her shame, thou knowest that I was frank with\\nthee. I felt no love, nor feigned any.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nTrue,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied he. It was my folly I have said\\nit. But, up to that epoch of my life, I had lived in vain.\\nThe world had been so cheerless My heart was a hal\\nitation large enough for many guests, but lonely and chill,\\nand without a household fire. I longed to kindle one\\nIt seemed not so wild a dream, old as I was, and som-\\nbre as I was, and misshapen as I was, that the simple\\nbliss, which is scattered far and wide, for all mankind to\\ngather up, might yet he mine. And so, Hester, I drew\\nthee into my heart, into its innermost chamber, and\\nsought to warm thee by the warmth which thy present e\\nmade there\\nI have greatly wronged thee,\u00e2\u0080\u009d murmured Hester.\\nWe have wronged each other,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered he. Mine\\nwas the first wrong, when I betrayed thy budding youth\\ninto a false and unnatural relation with my decay.\\nTherefore, as a man who has not thought and philoso-\\nphized in vain, I seek no vengeance, plot no evil against\\nthee. Between thee and me, the scale hangs fairly bal-\\nanced. But, Hester, the man lives who has wronged us\\nboth! Who is he?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAsk me not replied Hester Prynne, looking firmly\\ninto his face. That thou shalt never know\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNever, sayest thou?\u00e2\u0080\u009d rejoined he, with a smile of\\ndark and self-relying intelligence. Never know him\\nBelieve me, Hester, there are few things, whether in\\nihe outward world, or, to a certain depth, in the invisible\\nspheie of thought, few things hidden from the man\\nwho devotes himself earnestly and unreservedly to the\\nsolution of a mystery. Thou mayest cover up thy secret", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "86\\nHE SCARLET LETT\\ntrom the prying multitude. Thou mayest conceal it, toc\u00c2\u00bb\\nfrom the ministers and magistrates, even as thou didst\\nthis day, when they sought to wrench the name out ol\\nthy heart, and give thee a partner on thy pedestal. But,\\nus for me, I come to the inquest with other senses the n\\nthey possess. I shall seek this man, as I have sought\\ntruth in books as I have sought gold in alchemy.\\nThere is a sympathy that will make me conscious of him.\\nI shall see him tremble. I shall feel myself shudder,\\nsuddenly and unawares. Sooner or later, he must needs\\nbe mine\\nThe eyes of the wrinkled scholar glowed so intensely\\nupon her, that Hester Prynne clasped her hands over her\\nheart, dreading lest he should read the secret there at\\nonce.\\nThou wilt not reveal his name Not the less he is\\nmine,\u00e2\u0080\u009d resumed he, with a look of confidence, as if des-\\ntiny were at one with him. He bears no letter of in-\\nfamy wrought into his garment, as thou dost but I shall\\nread it on his heart. Yet fear not for him Think not\\nthat I shall interfere with Heaven\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own method of retri-\\nbution, or, to my own loss, betray him to the gripe of\\nhuman law. Neither do thou imagine that I shall con-\\ntrive aught against his life no, nor against his fame, if,\\nas I judge, he be a man of fair repute. Let him live\\nLet him hide himself in outward honor, if he may\\nNot the less he shall be mine\\nThy acts are like mercy,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester, bewildered\\nand appalbd. But thy words interpret thee as a ter-\\nror!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nOne thing, thou that wast my wife, I would enjoin\\nupon thee, continued the scholar. Thou hast kept the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "THE INTERVIEW.\\n87\\nsecret of thy paramour. Keep, likewise, mine There\\nare none in this land that know me. Breathe not, to any\\nhuman soul, that thou didst ever call me husband Here,\\non this wild outskirt of the earth, I shall pitch my tent\\nfc:, elsewhere a, wanderer, and isolated from human in-\\nterests. I find here a woman, a man, a child, amongst\\nwhom and myself there exist the closest ligaments. No\\nmatter whether of love or hate no matter whether of\\nright or wrong Thou and thine, Hester Prynne, belong\\nto me. My home is where thou art, and where he is.\\nBut betray me not\\nWherefore dost thou desire it inquired Hester,\\nshrinking, she hardly knew why, from this secret bond.\\nWhy not announce thyself openly, and cast me off at\\nonce\\nIt may be,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he replied, because I will not encounter\\nthe? dishonor that besmirches the husband of a faithless\\nwoman. It may be for other reasons. Enough, it is my\\npurpose to live and die unknown. Let, therefore, thy\\nhusband be to the world as one already dead, and of\\nwhom no tidings shall ever come. Recognize me not,\\nby word, by sign, by look Breathe not the secret,\\nabove all, to the man thou wottest of. Should st thou fail\\nne in this, beware! His fame, his position, his life, wiU\\nbe in my hands. Beware\\nI will keep thy secret, as I have his,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester.\\nSwear it rejoined he.\\nAnd she took the oath.\\nAnd now, Mistress Prynne,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said old Roger Chil-\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0099ingworth, as he was hereafter to be named, \u00e2\u0080\u009cI leave\\nthee alone alone with thy infant, and the scarlet letter\\nHow is it, Hester? Doth thy sentence bind thee to", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "88\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nwear the token in thy sleep Art thou not afraid of\\nnightmares and hideous dreams\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhy dost thou smile so at me?\u00e2\u0080\u009d inquired Hester\\ntroubled at the expression of his eyes. Art thou like\\nthe Black Man that haunts the forest round about us\\nHast thou enticed me into a bond that will prove the\\nruin of my soul?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNot thy soul,\u00e2\u0080\u0099 he answered, with another smile.\\nNo, not thine!\u00e2\u0080\u009d", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "HESTER AT IiER NEEDLE.\\nfif\\nV.\\nHESTER AT HER NEEDLE.\\nHestlr Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s term of confinement was now at\\nan end. Her prison-door was throwfi open, and she\\ncame forth into the sunshine, which, falling on all\\nalike, seemed, to her sick and morbid heart, as if meant\\nfor no other purpose than to reveal the scarlet letter on\\nher breast. Perhaps there was a more real torture in\\nher first unattended footsteps from the threshold of the\\nprison, than even in the procession and spectacle that\\nhave been described, where she was made the common\\ninfamy, at which all mankind was summoned to point\\nits finger. Then, she was supported by an unnatural\\ntension of the nerves, and by all the combative energy\\nof her character, which enabled her to convert the scene\\ninto a kind of lurid triumph. It was, moreover, a sepa-\\nrate and insulated event, to occur but once in her life-\\ntime, and to meet which, therefore, reckless of economy,\\nshe might call up the vital strength that would have\\nsufficed for many quiet years. The very law that con-\\ndemned her a giant of stern features, but with vigor\\ntc support, as well os to annihilate, in his iron arm\\nhad held her up, through the terrible ordeal of her\\nignominy. But now, with this unattended walk from\\nher prison-door, began the daily custom and she must\\neither sustain and carry it forward by the ordinary\\nresources of her nature, or sink beneath it. She\\ncould no loi ger borrow from the future to help he?", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "THE SCARLET LETTER.\\n90\\nthrough the present grief. To-morrow would bring its\\nown trial with it so would the next day, and so would\\nthe next; each its own trial, and yet the very same that\\nwas now so unutterably grievous to bo borne. The\\ndays of the far-off future would toil onward, still with\\nthe same burden for her to take up, and bear along with\\nher, but never to fling down for the accumulating days,\\nand added years, would pile up their misery upon the\\nheap of shame. Throughout them all, giving up her\\nindividuality, she would become the general symbol at\\nwhich the preacher and moralist might point, and in which\\nthey might vivify and embody their images of woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nfrailty and sinful passion. Thus the young and pure\\nwould be taught to look at her, with the scarlet letter\\nflaming on her breast, at her, the child of honorable\\nparents, at her, the mother of a babe, that would\\nhereafter be a woman, at her, who had once been\\ninnocent, as the figure, the body, the reality of sin.\\nAnd over her grave, the infamy that she must carry\\nthither would be her only monument.\\nIt may seem marvellous, that, with the world before\\nher, kept by no restrictive clause of her condemnation\\nwithin the limits of the Puritan settlement, so remote\\nand so obscure, free to return to her birth-place, or to\\nany other European land, and there hide her character\\nand identity under a new exterior, as completely as if\\nemerging into another state of bein and having also\\nthe passes of the dark, inscrutr a forest open to her,\\nwhere the w r ildness of her nature might assimilate\\nitself with a people whose customs and life were alien\\nfrom the law that had condemned her, it may seem\\nmarvellous, that this woman should still call that place", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "TESTER AT HER NEEDLE.\\n91\\nhei home, where, and where only, she must needs be\\nthe type of shame. But there is a fatality, a feeling so\\nirresistible and inevitable that it has the force of doom,\\nvhich almost invariably compels human beings to linger\\naround and haunt, ghost-like, the spot where some great\\nand marked event has given the color to their lifetime\\nand still the more irresistibly, the darker the tinge that\\nsaddens it. Her sin, her ignominy, were the roots\\nwhich she had struck into the soil. It was as if a\\nnew birth, with stronger assimilations than the first,\\nhad converted the forest-land, still so uncongenial to\\nevery other pilgrim and wanderer, into Hester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nwild and dreary, but life-long home. All other scenes\\nof earth even that village of rural England, where\\nhappy infancy and stainless maidenhood seemed yet to\\nbe in her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s keeping, like garments put off long\\nago were foreign to her, in comparison. The chain\\nthat bound her here was of iron links, and galling to hei\\ninmost soul, but could never be broken.\\nIt might be, too, doubtless it was so, although she\\nhid the secret from herself, and grew pale whenever it\\nstruggled out of her heart, like a serpent from its hole,\\nit might be that another feeling kept her within the\\nscene and pathway that had been so fatal. There\\ndwelt, there trode the feet of one with whom she\\ndeemed herself connected in a union, that, unrecognized\\non earth, would bring them together before the bar cf\\nfinal judgment, and make that their marriage-altar, for\\na joint futurity of endless retribution. Over and over\\nagain, the tempter of souls had thrusi this idea upon\\nHester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s contemplation, and laughed at the passionate\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2ud desperate joy with which she seized, and then", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "y2 THE scarlet lettik.\\nBtrove to cast it from her. She barely looked the idea\\nin the face, and hastened to bar it in its dungeon.\\nWhat she compelled herself to believe, what, finally,\\nshe reasoned upon, as her motive for continuing a resi-\\ndent of New England, was half a truth, and half a\\nself-delusion. Here, she said to herself, had been the\\nscene of her guilt, and here should be the scene of her\\nearthly punishment and so, perchance, the torture of\\nher daily shame would at length purge her soul, and\\nwork out another purity than that which she had lost\\nmore saint-like, because the result of martyrdom.\\nHester Prynne, therefore, did not flee. On the out-\\nskirts of the town, within the verge of the peninsula, but\\nnot in close vicinity to any other habitation, there way\\na small thatched cottage. It had been built by an earlier\\nsettler, and abandoned, because the soil about it was too\\nsterile for cultivation, while its comparative remoteness\\nput it out of the sphere of that social activity which\\nalready marked the habits of the emigrants. It stood on\\nthe shore, looking across a basin of the sea at the forest-\\ncovered hills, towards the west. A clump of scrubby\\ntrees, such as alone grew on the peninsula, did not so\\nmuch conceal the cottage from view, as seem to denote\\nthat here was some object which would fain have been,\\nor at least ought to be, concealed. In this little, lone-\\nsome dwelling, with some slender means that she pos-\\nsessed, and by the license of the magistrates, who still\\nkept an inquisitorial watch over her, Hester established\\nberself, with her infant child. A mystic shadow of\\nsuspicion immediately attached itself to the spot. Chil-\\ndren, too young to comprehend wherefore this woman\\nshould be shut out from the sphere of human charities.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "IIESTER AT HER NEEDLE.\\n9.1\\nwould creep nigh enough to behold her plying hei\\nneedle at the cottage-window, or standing in the door-\\nway, or laboring in her little garden, or coming forth\\nalong the pathway that led townward and, discerning\\nthe scarlet letter on her breast, would scamper off with a\\nstrange, contagious fear.\\nLonely as was Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s situation, and without a\\nfriend on earth who dared to show himself, she, how-\\never incurred no risk of want. She possessed an art\\nthat sufficed, even in a land that afforded comparatively\\nlittle scope for its exercise, to supply food for her thriv-\\ning infant and herself. It was the art then, as now\u00e2\u0080\u0099,\\nalmost the only one within a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s grasp of\\nneedle-work. She bore on her breast, in the curiously\\nembroidered letter, a specimen of her delicate and imag-\\ninative skill, of which the dames of a court might gladly\\nhave availed themselves, to add the richer and more\\nspiritual adornment of human ingenuity to their fabrics\\nof silk and gold. Here, indeed, in the sable simplicity\\nthat generally characterized the Puritanic modes of dress,\\nthere might be an infrequent call for the finer produc-\\ntions of her handiwork. Yet the taste of the age, de-\\nmanding whatever was elaborate in compositions of this\\nkind, did not fail to extend its influence over our stern\\nprogenitors, who had cast behind them so many fashions\\nwhich it might seem harder to dispense with. Public\\nceremonies, such as ordinations, the installation of\\nmagistrates, and all that could give majesty to the forms\\nin which a new government manifested itself to the\\npeople, were, as a matter of policy, marked by a stately\\nand well-conducted ceremonial, and a sombre, but yet\\na studied magnificence. Deep ruffs, painfully wrought", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "94\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nbands, and gorgeously embroidered gloves, were all\\ndeemed necessary to the official state of men assuming\\nthe reins of power and were readily allowed to indi-\\nviduals dignified by rank or wealth, even while sump-\\ntuary laws forbade .these and similar extravagances to\\nthe plebeian order. In the array of funerals, too,\\nwhether for the apparel of the dead body, or to typify,\\nby manifold emblematic devices of sable cloth and snowy\\nlawn, the sorrow of the survivors, there was a fre-\\nquent and characteristic demand for such labor as Hes\\nter Prynne could supply. Baby -linen for babies then\\nwore robes of state afforded still another possibility\\nof toil and emolument.\\nBy degrees, nor very slowly, her handiwork became\\nwhat would now be termed the fashion. Whether from\\ncommiseration for a woman of so miserable a destiny\\nor from the morbid curiosity that gives a fictitious value\\neven to common or worthless things; or by whatever\\nother intangible circumstance was then, as now, sufficient\\nto bestow, on some persons, what others might seek in\\nvain or because Hester really filled a gap which must\\notherwise have remained vacant it is certain that she\\nhad ready and fairly requited employment for as many\\nhours as she saw fit to occupy with her needle. Vanity,\\nit may be, chose to mortify itself, by putting on, for\\nceremonials of pomp and state, the garments that had\\nbeen wrought by her sinful hands. Her needle-work\\nwas seen on the ruff of the Governor; military men\\nwore it on their scarfs, and the minister on his band it\\ndecked the baby\u00e2\u0080\u0099s little cap it was shut up, to be mil-\\ndewed and moulder away, in the coffins of the dead.\\nBut it 3 not recorded that, in a single instance, her skill", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "HESTER AT HER NEEDLE.\\nwas called in aid to embroider the white veil which waa\\nto cover the pure blushes of a bride. The exception\\nindicated the ever relentless vigor with which society\\nfrowned upon her sin.\\nHester sought not to acquire anything beyond a sub-\\nsistence, of the plainest and most ascetic description, for\\nherself, and a simple abundance for her child. Her own\\ndress was of the coarsest materials and the most sombre\\nhue with only that one ornament, the scarlet letter,\\nwhich it was her doom to wear. The child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s attire,\\non the other hand, was distinguished by a fanciful, or, we\\nmight rather say, a fantastic ingenuity, which served,\\nindeed, to heighten the airy charm that early began to\\ndevelop itself in the little girl, but which appeared to\\nhave also a deeper meaning. We may speak further\\nof it hereafter. Except for that small expenditure in\\nthe decoration of her infant, Hester bestowed all her\\nsuperfluous means in charity, on wretches less misera-\\nble than herself, and who not unfrequently insulted the\\nhand that fed them. Much of the time, which she\\nmight readily have applied to the better efforts of her\\nart, she employed in making coarse garments for the\\npoor. It is probable that there was an idea of penance\\nin this mode of occupation, and that she offered up a real\\nsacrifice of enjoyment, in devoting so many hours to\\nsuch rude handiwork. She had in her nature a rich,\\nvoluptuous, Oriental characteristic, a taste for th8\\ngorgeously beautiful, which, save in the exquisite pro-\\nductions of her needle, found nothing else, in all the\\npossibilities of her life, to exercise itself upon. Women\\nderive a pleasure, incomprehensible to the other sex,\\nfrom the delicate toil of the needle. To Hester Piynne", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "9G THE SCARLET LETTER.\\nit might have been a mode of expressing, and there-\\nfore soothing, the passion of her life. Like all other\\njoys, she rejected it as sin. This morbid meddling of\\nconscience with an immaterial matter betokened, it is to\\nbe feared, no genuine and steadfast penitence, but some-\\nthing doubtful, something that might be deeply wrong,\\nbeneath.\\nIn this manner, Hester Prynne came to have a pai t\\nto perform in the world. With her native energy of\\ncharacter, and rare capacity, it could not entirely cast\\nher off, although it had set a mark upon her, more in-\\ntolerable to a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart than that which branded\\nthe brow of Cain. In all her intercourse with society,\\nhowever, there was nothing that made her feel as if she\\nbelonged to it. Every gesture, every word, and even\\nthe silence of those with whom she came in contact,\\nimplied, and often expressed, that she was banished,\\nand as much alone as if she inhabited another sphere,\\nor communicated with the common nature by other\\norgans and senses than the rest of human kind. She\\nstood apart from moral interests, yet close beside them,\\nlike a ghost that revisits the familiar fireside, and can\\nno longer make itself seen or felt no more smile with\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0he household joy, nor mourn with the kindred sorrow\\nor, should it succeed in manifesting its forbidden sympa-\\nthy, awakening only terror and horrible repugnance.\\nThese emotions, in fact, and its bitterest scorn besides,\\nseemed to be the sole portion that she retained in the\\nuniversal heart. It was not an age of delicacy and\\nher position, although she understood it well, and was\\nin little danger of forgetting it, was often brought be-\\nfore her vivid self-perception, like a new anguish, by", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "HESTER AT HER NEEDLE.\\n97\\n/he rudest touch upon the tenderest spot. The poor, as\\nwe have already said, whom she sought out to be the\\nobjects of her bounty, often reviled the hand that was\\nstretched forth to succor them. Dames of elevated\\nrank, likewise, whose doors she entered in the way of\\nher occupation, were accustomed to distil drops of bit\\ntemess into her heart sometimes through that alchemy\\nof quiet malice, by which women can concoct a subtile\\npoison from ordinary trifles and sometimes, also, by a\\ncoarser expression, that fell upon the sufferer\u00e2\u0080\u0099s defence-\\nless breast like a rough blow upon an ulcerated wound.\\nHester had schooled herself long and well she never\\nresponded to these attacks, save by a flush of crimson\\nthat rose irrepressibly over her pale cheek, and again\\nsubsided into the depths of her bosom. She was patient,\\na martyr, indeed, but she forebore to pray for her\\nenemies lest, in spite of her forgiving aspirations, the\\nwords of the blessing should stubbornly twist themselves\\ninto a curse.\\nContinue lly, and in a thousand other ways, did she\\nfeel the innumerable throbs of anguish that had been\\nso cunningly contrived for her by the undying, the\\never-active sentence of the Puritan tribunal. Clergy*\\nmen paused in the street to address words of exhorta-\\ntion, that brought a crowd, with its mingled grin and\\nfrown, around the poor, sinful woman. If she entered\\na church, trusting to share the Sabbath smile of the\\nUniversal Father, it was often her mishap to find her-\\nself the text of the discourse. She grew to have a\\ndread of children for they had imbibed from their\\nparents a vague idea of something horrible in this dreary\\nwoman, gliding silently through the town, with never\\n7", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "98\\nTIIE SCARLET LETTEfw.\\nany compmion but one only child. Therefore, hrst\\nallowing her to pass, they pursued her at a distance with\\nshrill cries, and the utterance of a word that had no dis*\\ntinct purport to their own minds, but was none the less\\nterrible to her, as proceeding from lips that babbled it\\nunconsciously. It seemed to argue so wide a diffusion\\nsf her shame, that all nature knew of it it could have\\ncaused her no deeper pang, had the leaves of the trees\\nwhispered the dark story among themselves, had\\nthe summer breeze murmured about it had the wintry\\nblast shrieked it aloud Another peculiar torture was\\nfelt in the gaze of a new eye. When strangers looked\\ncuriously at the scarlet letter, and none ever failed to\\ndo so, they branded it afresh into Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s soul so\\nthat, oftentimes, she could scarcely refrain, yet always\\ndid refrain, from covering the symbol with her hand.\\nBut then, again, an accustomed eye had likewise its own\\nanguish to inflict. Its cool stare of familiarity was in-\\ntolerable. From first to last, in short, Hester Prynne\\nhad always this dreadful agony in feeling a human eye\\nupor. the token the spot never grew callous it seemed,\\non the contrary, to grow more sensitive with daily tor-\\nture.\\nBut sometimes, once in many days, or perchance in\\nmany months, she felt an eye a human eye upon\\nthe ignominious brand, that seemed to give a momentary\\nrelief, as if half of her agony were shared. The next\\ninstant, back it all rushed again, with still a deeper throb\\nof pain for, in that brief interval, she had sinned anew\\nHad Hester sinned alone\\nHer imagination was somewhat affected, and, had she\\nbeen if a softer moral and intellectual fibre, would have", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "HESTEF. AT HER NEEDLE.\\n99\\nf een still more so, by the strange and solitary anguish\\nof her life. Walking to and fro, with those lonely foot*\\nsteps, in the little world with which she was outwardly\\nconnected, it now and then appeared to Hester, if\\naltogether fancy, it was nevertheless too potent to be re-\\nsisted, she felt or fancied, then, that the scarlet letter\\nhad endowed her with a new sense. She shuddered to\\nbelieve, yet could not help believing, that it gave her a\\nsympathetic knowledge of the hidden sin in other hearts.\\nShe was terror-stricken by the revelations that were thus\\nmade. What were they? Could they be other than\\nthe insidious whispers of the bad angel, who would fain\\nhave persuaded the struggling woman, as yet only half\\nhis victim, that the outward guise of purity was but a\\nlie, and that, if truth were everywhere to be shown, a\\nscarlet letter would blaze forth on many a bosom besides\\nHester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Or, must she receive those intima-\\ntions so obscure, yet so distinct as truth In all\\nher miserable experience, there was nothing else so awful\\nand so loathsome as this sense. It perplexed, as well as\\nshocked her, by the irreverent inopportuneness of the oc-\\ncasions that brought it into vivid action. Sometimes the\\nred infamy upon her breast would give a sympathetic\\nthrob, as she passed near a venerable minister or magis-\\ntrate, the model of piety and justice, to whom that age\\nof antique reverence looked up, as to a mortal man in\\nfellowship with angels. What evil thing is at hand\\nwould Hester say to herself. Lifting her reluctant eyes,\\nthere would be nothing human within the scope of view,\\nsa ve the form of this earthly saint Again, a mystic\\nsisterhood would contumaciously assert itself, as she met\\nthe sanctified frown of some matron, who, according to", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "100\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nthe rumor of all tongues, had kept cold snow within he(\\nbosom throughout life. That unsunned snow in the\\nmatron\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom, and the burning shame on Hester\\nPrynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, what had the two in common? Or, once\\nmore, the electric thrill would give her warning,\\nBehold, Hester, here is a companion and, looking\\nup, she would detect the eyes of a young maiden glancing\\nat the scarlet letter, shyly and aside, and quickly averted\\nwith a faint, chill crimson in her cheeks as if her pu\\nrity were somewhat sullied by that momentary glance\\nO Fiend, whose talisman was that fatal symbol, woulds.*\\nthou leave nothing, whether in youth or age, for thi?\\npoor sinner to revere such loss of faith is ever one\\nof the saddest results of sin. Be it accepted as a proof\\nthat all was not corrupt in this poor victim of her own\\nfrailty, and man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hard law, that Hester Prynne ye*\\nstruggled to b\u00c2\u00abl? r e that no fellow-mortal was guiltv\\nlike herself.\\nThe vulgar who, in those dreary old times, were alwavs\\ncontributing p grotesque horror to what interested then\\nimagination had a story about the scarlet letter whicn\\nwe migb readily work up into a terrific legend. They\\naverred, that the symbol was not mere scarlet cloth,\\ntinged in an earthly dye-pot, but was red-hot with infer-\\nnal fire, and could be seen glowing all alight, whenever\\nHester Prynne walked abroad in the night-time. And\\nwe must needs say, it seared Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom so deeply,\\nthat perhaps there v/as more truth in the rumor than ouf\\nmolem incredulity may be inclined to admit-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "PEARL.\\n101\\nVI.\\nPEARL.\\nWe habeas yet hardly spoken of the inlant; thal\\nlittle creature, whose innocent life had sprung, by ths\\ninscrutable decree of Providence, a lovely and immor\\ntal flower, out of the rank luxuriance of a guilty pas\\nsion. How strange it seemsd to the sad woman, as she\\nwatched the growth, and the beauty that became every\\nday more brilliant, and the intelligence that threw its\\nquivering sunshine over the tiny features of this child\\nHer Pearl For so had Hester called her; not as a\\nname expressive of her aspect, which had nothing of the\\ncalm, white, unimpassioned lustre that would be indi-\\ncated by the comparison. But she named the infant\\nPearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d as being of great price, purchased with all\\nshe had. her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s only treasure How strange,\\nindeed !j Man had marked this woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sin by a scarlet\\nletter, which had such potent and disastrous efficacy that\\nno human sympathy could reach her, save it were sinful\\nlike herself. God, as a direct consequence of the sin\\nwhich man thus punished, had given her a lovely child,\\nwhose place was on that same dishonored bosom, to con-\\nnect her parent forever with the race and descent of mor-\\ntals, and to be finally a blessed soul in heaven Yet\\nthese thoughts affected Hester Prynne less with hope\\nthan apprehension. She knew that her deed had been\\nevil she could have no faith, therefore, that its result\\nwou .d be good. Day after day, she looked fearfully into", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "102\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nthe child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s expanding nature ever dreading to detect\\n\u00c2\u00abome dark and wild peculiarity, that should correspond\\nwith the guiltiness to which she owed her being.\\nCertainly, there was no physical defect. By its per-\\nfect shape, its vig U, and its natural dexterity in the use\\nof all ts untried limbs, the infant was worthy to have\\nbeen brought forth in Eden worthy to have been left\\nthere, to oe the plaything of the angels, after the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nfirst parents were driven out. The child had a native\\ngrace which does not invariably coexist with faultless\\nbeauty its attire, however simple, always impressed the\\nbeholder as if it were the very garb that precisely became\\nit best. But little Pearl was not clad in rustic weeds.\\nHer mother, with a morbid purpose that may be better\\nunderstood hereafter, had bought the richest tissues that\\ncould be procured, and allowed her imaginative faculty\\nits full play in the arrangement and decoration of the\\ndresses which the child wore, before the public eye. So\\nmagnificent was the small figure, when thus arrayed,\\nand such was the splendor of Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own proper beauty,\\nshining through the gorgeous robes which might have\\nextinguished a paler loveliness, that there was an abso-\\nlute circle of radiance around her, on the darksome cot-\\ntage floor. And yet a russet gown, torn and soiled with\\nthe child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s rude play, made a picture of her just as per-\\nfect. Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s aspect was imbued with a spell of infinite\\nvariety; in this one child there were many children,\\ncomprehending the full scope between the wild-flowe*\\nprettiness of a peasant-baby, and the pomp, in little, o:\\nan infant princess. Throughout all, however, there was\\na trait of passion, a certain depth of hue, which she\\nnever lost,- and if, in any of her changes, she had grown", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "?r AYL.\\n103\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2fointer 01 paler, she would have ceased to be herself\\nit would have been no longer Pearl\\nThis outward mutability indicated, and did not more\\nthan fairly express, the various properties of her inner\\nlife. Her nature appeared to possess depth, too, as well\\nas variety but or else Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s fears deceived her\\nit lacked reference and adaptation to the world into\\nwhich she was bom. The child could not be made\\namenable to rules. In giving her existence, a great law\\nnad been broken and the result was a being whose ele-\\nments were perhaps beautiful and brilliant, but all in\\ndisorder; or with an order peculiar to themselves, amidst\\nwhich the point of variety and arrangement was difficult\\nor impossible to be discovered. Hester could only ac-\\ncount for the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character and even then most\\nvaguely and imperfectly by recalling what she herself\\nnad been, during that momentous period while Pearl was\\nimbibing her soul from the spiritual world, and her bodily\\nframe from its material of earth. The mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s impas-\\nsioned state had been the medium through which were\\ntransmitted to the unborn infant the rays of its moral\\nlife and, however white and clear originally, they had\\ntaken the deep stains of crimson and gold, the fiery\\nlustre, th 3 black shadow, and the untempered light, of\\nthe intervening substance. Above all, the warfare of\\nHester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s spirit, at that epoch, was perpetuated in Pearl.\\nShe could recognize her wild, desperate, defiant mood,\\nthe flightiness of her temper, and even some of the very\\ncloud-shapes of gloom and despondency that had brooded\\nin her heart. They were now illuminated by the morn-\\ning radiance of a young child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s disposition, but later in", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "104\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nthe day of earthly existence, might be prolific of tilt\\nstorm and whirlwind.\\nThe discipline of the family, in those days, was of a\\nfar more rigid kind than now. The frown, the harsh\\nrebuke, the frequent application of the rod, enjoined by\\nScriptural authority, were used, not merely in the way\\nof punishment for actual offences, but as a wholesome\\nregimen for the growth and promotion of all childish\\nvirtues. Hester Prynne, nevertheless, the lonely mother\\nof this one child, ran little risk of erring on the side of\\nundue severity. Mindful, however, of her own errors\\nand misfortunes, she early sought to impose a tender,\\nbut strict control over the infant immortality that was\\ncommitted to her charge. But the task was beyond her\\nskill. After testing both smiles and frowns, and proving\\nthat neither mode of treatment possessed any calculable\\ninfluence, Hester was ultimately compelled to stand\\naside, and permit the child to be swayed by her own\\nimpulses. Physical compulsion or restraint was effect-\\nual, of course, while it lasted. As to any other kind of\\ndiscipline, whether addressed to her mind or heart, little\\nPearl might or might not be within its reach, in accord-\\nance with the caprice that ruled the moment. Her\\nmother, while Pearl was yet an infant, grew acquainted\\nwith a certain peculiar look, that warned her when it\\nwould be labor thrown away to insist, persuade, or plead.\\nIt was a look so intelligent, yet inexplicable, so perverse,\\nsometimes so malicious, but generally accompanied by a\\nwild flow of spirits, that Hester could not help question-\\ning, at such moments, whether Pearl was a human child,\\nShe seemed rather an airy sprite, which, after playing\\nits fantastic sports for a little while upon the cottage", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "PEARL.\\n105\\nfloor, would flit away with a mocking smile. Whenever\\nthat look appeared in her wild, bright, deeply black eyes\\nit invested her with a strange remoteness and intangi-\\nbility it was as if she were hovering in the air and\\nmight vanish, like a glimmering light, that comes we\\nknow not whence, and goes we know not whither. Be-\\nholding it, Hester was constrained to rush towards the\\nchild, to pursue the little elf in the flight which she\\ninvariably began, to snatch her to her bosom, with a\\nclose pressure and earnest kisses, not so much from\\noverflowing love, as to assure herself that Pearl was\\nflesh and blood, and not utterly delusive. But Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nlaugh, when she was caught, though full of merriment\\nand music, made her mother more doubtful than before.\\nHeart-smitten at this bewildering and baffling spell,\\nthat so often came between herself and her sole treasure,\\nwhom she had bought so dear, and who was all her\\nworld, Hester sometimes burst into passionate tears.\\nThen, perhaps, for there was no foreseeing how it\\nmight affect her, Pearl would frown, and clench her\\nlittle fist, and harden her small features into a stem, un-\\nsympathizing look of discontent. Not seldom, she would\\nlaugh anew, and louder than before, like a thing incapa-\\nble and unintelligent of human sorrow. Or but this\\nmore rarely happened she would be convulsed with a\\nrage of grief, and sob out her love for her mother, in\\nbroken words, and seem intent on proving that she had\\na heart, by breaking it. Yet Hester was hardly safe in\\nconfiding herself to that gusty tenderness it passed, as\\nsuddenly as it came. Brooding over all these matters,\\ndie mother felt like one who has evoked a spirit, but, by\\nsome irregularity m the process of conjuration, lias failed", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "106\\nTHE SCAB LET LETTER.\\nto win the master-word that should control this ne*r and\\nincomprehensible intelligence. Her only real comfort\\nwas when the child lay in the placidity of sleep. Then\\nshe was sure of her, and tasted hours of quiet, sad, deli-\\ncious happiness; until perhaps with that perverse ex-\\npression glimmering from beneath her opening lids\\nlittle Pearl awoke\\nHow soon with what strange rapidity, indeed\\ndid Pearl arrive at an age that was capable of social\\nintercourse, beyond the mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ever-ready smile and\\nnonsense-words And then what a happiness would it\\nhave been, could Hester Prynne have heard her clear,\\nbird-like voice mingling with the uproar of other childish\\nvoices, and have distinguished and unravelled her own\\ndarling\u00e2\u0080\u0099s tones, amid all the entangled outcry of a group\\nof sportive children But this could never be. Pearl\\nwas a born outcast of the infantile world. An imp of\\nevil, emblem and product of sin, she had no right among\\ncnristened infants. Nothing was more remarkable than\\nthe instinct, as it seemed, with which the child compre-\\nhended her loneliness the destiny that had drawn an\\ninviolable circle round about her the whole peculiarity,\\nin short, of her position in respect to other children.\\nNever, since her release from prison, had Hester met the\\npublic gaze without her. In all her walks about the\\ntown, Pearl, too, was there first as the babe in arms,\\nand afterwards as the little girl, small companion of her\\nmother, holding a forefinger with her whole grasp, and\\ntripping along at the rate of three or four footsteps to one\\nof Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s. She saw the children of the settlement, on\\nthe grassy margin of the street, or at the domestic thresh-\\nolds, disporting themselves in such grim fashion as the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "PEARb.\\n107\\nfdritanic nuilme would permit; playing at going to\\nchurch, perchance; or at scourging Quakers; or taking\\nscalps in a sham-fight with the Indians or scaring one\\nanother with freaks of imitati ve witchcraft. Pearl saw, and\\ngazed intently, but never sought to make acquaintance.\\nli spoken to, she would not speak again. If the children\\ngathered about her, as they sometimes did, Pearl would\\ngrow positively terrible in her puny wrath, snatching up\\nstones to fling at them, with shrill, incoherent exclama-\\ntions, that made her mother tremble, because they had so\\nmuch the sound of a witch\u00e2\u0080\u0099s anathemas in some unknown\\ntongue.\\nThe truth was, that the little Puritans, being of the\\nmost intolerant brood that ever lived, had got a vague\\ndea of something outlandish, unearthly, or at variance\\nvith ordinary fashions, in the mother and child and\\ntherefore scorned them in their hearts, and not unfre-\\n4uently reviled them with their tongues. Pearl felt the\\nsentiment, and requited it with the bitterest hatred that\\ncan be supposed to rankle in a childish bosom. These\\noutbreaks of a fierce temper had a kind of value, and\\neven comfort, for her mother because there was at least\\nm intelligible earnestness in the mood, instead of the\\nritful caprice that so often thwarted her in the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nmanifestations. It appalled her, nevertheless to discern\\nhere* again, a shadowy reflection of the evil that had\\nexisted in herself. All this enmity and passion had\\nPearl inherited, by inalienable right, out of Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nheart. Mother and daughter stood together in the same\\ncircle of seclusion from human society and in the nature\\nof the child seemed to be perpetuated those unquiet ele-\\nments thav hail distracted Hester Prynne before Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "108\\nTilE SCARLET LETTER.\\nbirth, but had since begun to be soothed away by the\\nsoftening influences of maternity.\\nAt home, within and around her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s cottage,\\nPearl wanted not a wide and various circle of acquaint-\\nance. The spell of life went forth from her ever creative\\nspirit, and communicated itself to a thousand objects, as\\na torch kindles a flame wherever it may be applied. The\\nunlikeliest materials, a stick, a bunch of rags, a flow*-\\nwere the puppets of Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s witchcraft, and, witK,*t\\nundergoing any outward change, became spir tu^iy\\nadapted to whatever drama occupied the stage A ner\\ninner world. Her one baby-voice served a mult ade of\\nimaginary personages, old and young, to tall withal.\\nThe pine-trees, aged, black and solemn, and flinging\\ngroans and other melancholy utterances on th breeze,\\nneeded little transformation to figure as Puritan elders\\nthe ugliest weeds of the garden were their children,\\nwhom Pearl smote down and uprooted, most unmerci-\\nfully. It was wonderful, the vast variety of forms into\\nwhich she threw her intellect, with no continuity, indeed,\\nbut darting up and dancing, always in a state of preter-\\nnatural activity, soon sinking down, as if exhausted\\nby so rapid and feverish a tide of life, and succeeded\\nby other shapes of a similar wild energy. It was like\\nnothing so much as the phantasmagoric play of the\\nnorthern lights. In the mere exercise* of the fancy, how-\\never, and the sportiveness of a growing mind, there might\\nbe Title more than was observable in other children of\\nbright faculties except as Pearl, in the dearth of human\\nplaymates, was thrown more upon the visionary throng\\nwhich she created. The singularity lay in the hostile\\nfeelings with which the child regarded all these offspring", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "PEARL.\\n10\\ncf her own heart and mind. She never created a friena\\nbut seemed always to be sowing broadcast the dragon\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nteeth, whence sprung a hardest of armed enemies, against\\nwhom she rushed to battle. It was inexpressibly sad\\nthen what depth of sorrow to a mother, who felt in her\\nown heart the cause to observe, in one so young, this\\nconstant recognition of an adverse world, and so fierce a\\ntraining of the energies that were to make good her cause,\\nin the contest that must ensue.\\nGazing at Pearl, Hester Prynne often dropped her\\nwork upon her knees, and cried out with an agony which\\nshe would fain have hidden, but which made utterance\\nfor itself, betwixt speech and a groan, O Father in\\nHeaven, if Thou art still my Father, what is this\\nbeing which I have brought into the world And\\nPearl, overhearing the ejaculation, or aware, through\\nsome more subtile channel, of those throbs of anguish,\\nwould turn her vivid and beautiful little face upon her\\nmother, smile with sprite-like intelligence, and resume\\nher play.\\nOne peculiarity of the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s deportment remains yet\\nto be told. The very first thing which she had noticed,\\nin her life, was what not the mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s smile, re-\\nsponding to it, as other babies do, by that faint, embryo\\nsmile of the little mouth, remembered so doubtfully after-\\nwards, and with such fond discussion whether it were\\nindeed a smile. By no means But that first object of\\nwhich Pearl seemed to become aware was shall we say\\nit the scarlet letter on Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom One day, as\\nher mother stooped over the cradle, the infant\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eyes had\\nbeen caught by the glimmering of the gold embroidery\\nabout the letter; and, putting up her little hand, she", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "110\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER\\ngrasped at it, smiling, not doubtfully, but with a decided\\ngleam, that gave her face the look of a much older child.\\nThen, gasping for breath, did -Hester Prynne clutch the\\nfatal token, instinctively endeavoring to tear it away so\\ninfinite was the torture inflicted by the intelligent touch\\nof Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s baby -hand. Again, as if her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ago-\\nnized gesture were meant only to make sport for her, did\\nlittle Pearl look into her eyes, and smile! From that\\nepoch, except when the child was asleep, Hester had\\nnever felt a moment\u00e2\u0080\u0099s safety not a moment\u00e2\u0080\u0099s calm enjoy-\\nment of her. Weeks, it is true, would sometimes elapse,\\nduring which Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gaze might never once be fixed\\nupon the scarlet letter but then, again, it would come\\nat unawares, like the stroke of sudden death, and\\nalways with that peculiar smile, and odd expression of\\nthe eyes.\\nOnce, this freakish, elvish cast came into the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\neyes, while Hester was looking at her own image in them,\\nas mothers are fond of doing and, suddenly, for wo-\\nmen in solitude, and with troubled hearts, are pestered\\nwith unaccountable delusions, she fancied that she be-\\nheld, not her own miniature portrait, but another face, in\\nthe small black mirror of Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eye. It was a face, fiend-\\nlike, full of smiling malice, yet bearing the semblance of\\nfeatures that she had known full well, though seldom\\nwith a smile, and never with malice in them. It was as\\nif an evil spirit possessed the child, and had just then\\npeeped forth in mockery. Many a time afterwards had\\nHester been tortured, though less vividly, by the same\\nillusion.\\nIn the afternoon of a certain summer\u00e2\u0080\u0099s day, after Pearl\\ngrew big enough to run about, she amused herself with", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "PEARL.\\nIll\\ngathering handfuls of wild-flowers, and flinging them, ono\\nby one, at h*r mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom dancing up and down,\\nlike a little elf, whenever she hit the scarlet letter. Hes-\\nter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s first motion had been to cover her bosom with her\\nclasped hands. But, whether from pride or resignation,\\nor a feeling that her penance might best be wrought out\\nby this unutterable pain, she resisted the impulse, and\\nsat erect, pale as death, looking sadly into little Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nwild eyes. Still came the battery of flowers, almost in-\\nvariably hitting the mark, and covering the mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nbreast with hurts for which she could find no balm in this\\nworld, nor knew how to seek it in another. At last, her\\nshot being all expended, the child stood still and gazed at\\nHester, with that little, laughing image of a fiend peep-\\ning out or, whether it peeped or no, her mother so\\nimagined it from the unsearchable abyss of her black\\neyes.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cChild, what art thou cried the mother.\\nO, I am your little Pearl answered the child.\\nBut, while she said it, Pearl laughed, and began to\\ndance up and down, with the humorsome gesticulation\\nof a little imp, whose next freak might be to fly up the\\nchimney.\\nArt thou my child, in very truth asked Hester.\\nNor did she put the question altogether idly, but, for\\nths moment, with a portion of genuine earnestness for,\\nsuch was Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wonderful intelligence, that her mother\\nhalf doubted whether she were not acquainted with the\\nsecret spell of her existence, and might not now reveal\\nherself.\\nYes I am little Pearl repeated the child, contin-\\nuing her antics.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "112\\nTHE .SCARLET LETTER\\nThou art not my child Thou art no Pearl of mine\\nsaid the mother, half playfully for it was often the case\\nthat a sportive impulse came over her, in the midst of her\\ndeepest suffering. Tell me, then, what thou art, and\\nwho sent thee hither\\nTell me, mother said the child, seriously, coming\\nup to Hester, and pressing herself close to her knees.\\nDo thou tell me\\nThy Heavenly Father sent thee answered Hester\\nPrynne.\\nBut she said it with a hesitation that did not escape\\nthe acuteness of the child. Whether moved only by her\\nordinary freakishness, or because an evil spirit prompted\\nher, she put up her small forefinger, and touched the\\nscarlet letter.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHe did not send me!\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried she, positively. \u00e2\u0080\u009c1\\nhave no Heavenly Father\\nHush, Pearl, hush Thou must not talk so an-\\nswered the mother, suppressing a groan. He sent us\\nall into this world. He sent even me, thy mother. Then,\\nmuch more, thee Or, if not, thou strange and elfish\\nchild, whence didst thou come\\nTell me Tell me repeated Pearl, no longer\\nseriously, but laughing, and capering about the floor.\\nIt is thou that must tell me\\nBut Hester could not resolve the query, being herself\\nin a dismal labyrinth of doubt. She remembered be-\\ntwixt a smile and a shudder the talk of the neighbor-\\ning townspeople who, seeking vainly elsewhere for the\\nchild\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pa temity, and observing some of her odd attributes\\nhad given out that poor little Pearl was e demon ofl\\nspring; such as, ever since old Catholic times, had occa", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "PEARL.\\nsionally been seen on earth, through the agency of their\\nmother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sin, and to promote some foul and wicked pur-\\npose. Luther, according to the scandal of his monkish\\nenemies, was a brat of that hellish breed nor was I earl\\nthe only child to whom this inauspicious origin wv\\nassigned among tne New England Puritans.\\n9\\nto t i eiaslv\\noa ogt\\noil I no i\\n9*1) ^nii\\ni uo\\ns^r.ffc", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "1 14\\nTHE SCARLET LETTEfc.\\nVII.\\nTHE GOVERNOR\u00e2\u0080\u0099S HALL.\\nHester Prynne went, one day, to Lie mansion of\\nGovernor Bellingham, with a pair of gloves, which she\\nhad fringed and embroidered to his order, and which were\\nto be worn on some great occasion of state for, though\\nthe chances of a popular election had caused this former\\nruler to descend a step or two from the highest rank, he\\nstill held an honorable and influential place among the\\ncolonial magistracy.\\nAnother and far more important reason than the deliv-\\nery of a pair of embroidered gloves impelled Hester, at\\nthis time, to seek an interview with a personage of so\\nmuch power and activity in the affairs of the settlement.\\nIt had reached her ears, that there was a design on the\\npart of some of the leading inhabitants, cherishing the\\nmore rigid order of principles in religion and government,\\nto deprive her of her child. On the supposition that\\nPearl, as already hinted, was of demon origin, these good\\npeople not unreasonably argued that a Christian interest\\nin the mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s soul required them to remove such a\\nstumbling-block from her path. If the child, on the\\nother hand, were really capable of moral and religions\\ngrowth, and possessed the elements f ultimate salvation\\nthen, surely, it would enjoy all the fairer prospect of these\\nadvantages, by being transferred to wiser and better\\nguardianship than Hester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s. Among those who\\npromoted the design, Governor Bellingham was said to", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "THE JOVERNOR\u00e2\u0080\u0099S HALL.\\n115\\nbe one of the most busy. It may appear singular, and\\nindeed, not a little ludicrous, that an affair of thr,\\nkind, which, in later days, would have been referred\\nto no higher jurisdiction than that of the selectmen of\\nthe town, should then have been a question publicly\\ndiscussed., and on which statesmen of eminence took\\nsides. At that epoch of pristine simplicity, however,\\nmatters of even slighter public interest, and of far less\\nintrinsic weight, than the welfare of Hester and her\\nchild, were strangely mixed up with the deliberations of\\nlegislators and acts of state. The period was hardly,\\nif at all, earlier than that of our story, when a dispute\\nconcerning the right of property in a pig, not only caused\\na fierce and bitter contest in the legislative body of the\\ncolony, but resulted in an important modification of the\\nframework itself of the legislature.\\nFull of concern, therefore, but so conscious of her\\nown right that it seemed scarcely an unequal match\\nbetween the public, on the one side, and a lonely woman,\\nbacked by the sympathies of nature, on the other,\\nHester Prynne set forth from her solitary cottage. Lit-\\ntle Pearl, of course, was her companion. She was now\\nof an age to run lightly along by her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s side, and\\nconstantly in motion, from morn till sunset, could have\\naccomplished a much longer journey than that before\\nher. Often, nevertheless, more from caprice than neces-\\nsity, she demanded to be taken up inarms but was soon\\nas imperious to be set down again, and frisked onward\\nbefore Hester on the grassy pathway, with many a\\nharmless trip and tumble. We have spoken of Pearls\\nrich and luxuriant beauty; a beauty that shone with\\ndeep and vivid tints; a bright complexion, eyes possess", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "116\\nTHE SCARLET LETTLfl.\\nmg intensity both of depth and glow, and hair already\\nof a deep, glossy brown, and which, in after years,\\nwould be nearly akin to black. There was fire in her\\nand throughout her; she seemed the unpremeditated\\noffshoot of a passionate moment. Her mother, in con-\\ntriving the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s garb, had allowed the gorgeous ten\\ndencies of her imagination their full play; arraying her\\nin a crimson velvet tunic, of a peculiar cut, abundantly\\nembroidered with fantasies and flourishes of gold thread.\\nSo much strength of coloring, which must have given a\\nwan and pallid aspect to cheeks of a fainter bloom, was\\nadmirably adapted to Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s beauty, and made her the\\nvery brightest little jet of flame that ever danced upon\\nthe earth.\\nBut it was a remarkable attribute of this garb, and,\\nindeed, of the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s whole appearance, that it irresist-\\nibly and inevitably reminded the beholder of the token\\nwhich Hester Prynne was doomed to wear upon her\\nbosom. It was the scarlet letter in another form; the\\nscarlet letter endowed with life The mother herself\\nas if the red ignominy were so deeply scorched into hei\\nbrain that all her conceptions assumed its form had\\ncarefully wrought out the similitude lavishing many\\nhours of morbid ingenuity, to create an analogy between\\nthe object of her affection and the emblem of her guilt\\nand torture. But, in truth, Pearl was the one, as well\\nas the other; and only in consequence of that identity\\nhad Hester contrived so perfectly to represent the scarlet\\nletter in her appearance.\\nAs the two wayfarers came within the precincts of\\nthe town, the children of the Puritans looked up front", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "THE GO V EKNOR S IT A EE\\n111\\ntheir play, or what passed for play with ihose sombre\\nlittle urchins, and spake gravely one to another:\\nBehold, verily, there is the woman of the scarlet\\nletter and, of a truth, moreover, there is the likeness\\nof the scarlet letter running along by her side Come,\\ntherefore, and let us fling mud at them\\nBut Pearl, who was a dauntless child, after frowning,\\nstamping her foot, and shaking her little hand with a\\nvariety of threatening gestures, suddenly made a rush\\nat the knot of her enemies, and put them all to flight.\\nShe resembled, in her fierce pursuit of them, an infant\\npestilence, the scarlet fever, or some such half-fledged\\nangel of judgment, whose mission was to punish the\\nsins of the rising generation. She screamed and shout-\\ned, too, with a terrific volume of sound, which, doubtless,\\ncaused the hearts of the fugitives to quake within them.\\nThe victory accomplished, Pearl returned quietly to her\\nmother, and looked up, smiling, into her face.\\nWithout further adventure, they reached the dwelling\\nof Governor Bellingham. This was a large wooden\\nhouse, built in a fashion of which there are specimens\\nstill extant in the streets of our elder towns now moss-\\ngrown, crumbling to decay, and melancholy at heart\\nwith the many sorrowful or joyful occurrences, remem-\\nbered or forgotten, that have happened, and passed\\naway, within their dusky chambers. Then, however,\\nthere was the freshness of the passing year on its exte-\\nrior, and the cheerfulness, gleaming forth from the sunny\\nwindows, of a human habitation, into which death had\\nnever entered. It had, indeed, a very cheery aspect;\\nthe walls being overspread with a kind of stucco, in\\nwhich fragments of broken glass were plentifully inter-", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "118\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nmixed so that, when the sunshine fell aslant-wjse ove:\\nthe front of the edifice, it glittered and sparkled is if\\ndiamonds had been flung against it by the double\\nhandful. The brilliancy might have befitted Aladdin\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\npalace, rather than the mansion of a grave old Puritan\\nruler. It was further decorated with strange and seem-\\ningly cabalistic figures and diagrams, suitable to the\\nquaint taste of the age, which had been drawn in the\\nstucco when newly laid on, and had now grown hard\\nand durable, for the admiration of after .times.\\nPearl, looking at this bright wonder of a house, began\\nto caper and dance, and imperatively required that the\\nwhole breadth of sunshine should be stripped off its\\nfront, and given her to play with.\\nNo, my little Pearl said her mother. Thou\\nmust gather thine own sunshine. I have none to give\\nthee\\nThey approached the door which was of an arched\\nform, and flanked on each side by a narrow tower 01\\nprojection of the edifice, in both of which were lattice-\\nwindows, with wooden shutters to close over them at\\nneed. Lifting the iron hammer that hung at the portal,\\nHester Prynne gave a summons, which was answered\\nby one of the Governor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bond-servants; a free-born\\nEnglishman, but now a seven years\u00e2\u0080\u0099 slave. During\\nthat term he was to be the property of his master, and\\nas much a commodity of bargain and sale as an ox, or\\na joint-stool. The serf wore the blue coat, which was\\nthe customary garb of serving-men at that period, and\\nlong before, in the old hereditary halls of England.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cIs the worshipful Governor Bellingham within f r\\ninquired Hester.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "THE GOVERNOR S HALL\\n119\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYea, forsooth,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied the bond-servant, staring\\nwith wide-open eyes at the scarlet letter, which, being a\\nnew-comer in the country, he had never before seen.\\nYea, his honorable worship is within. But he hath a\\ngodly minister or two with him, and likewise a leech.\\nYe may not see his worship now.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNevertheless, I will enter,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hester Prynne,\\nand the bond-servant, perhaps judging from the decision\\nof her air, and the glittering symbol in her bosom, that\\nshe was a great lady in the land, offered no opposition.\\nSo the mother and little Pearl were admitted into\\nthe hall of entrance. With many variations, suggested\\nby the nature of his building-materials, diversity of\\nclimate, and a different mode of social life, Governor\\nBellingham had planned his new habitation after the\\nresidences of gentlemen of fair estate in his native land.\\nHere, then, was a wide and reasonably lofty hall, ex-\\ntending through the whole depth of the house, and\\nforming a medium of general communication, more or\\nless directly, with all the other apartments. At one\\nextremity, this spacious room was lighted by the win-\\ndows of the two towers, which formed a small recess on\\neither side of the portal. At the other end, though\\npartly muffled by a curtain, it was more powerfully\\nilluminated by one of those embowed hall-windows\\nwhich we read of in old books, and which was provided\\nwith a keep and cushioned seat. Here, on the cushion,\\nlay a folio tome, probably of the Chronicles of England,\\nor other such substantial literature even as, in our own\\nclays, we scatter gilded volumes on the centre-table, to\\nbe turned over by the casual guest. The furniture of\\nthe hall consisted of some ponderous chairs, the backs", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "120\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nof which were elaborately carved with wreaths of oaken\\nflowers; and likewise a table in the same taste; the\\nwhole being of the Elizabethan age, or perhaps earlier,\\nand heirlooms, transferred hither from the Governor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\npaternal home. On the table in token that the sen-\\ntiment of old English hospitality had not been left\\nbehind stood a large pewter tankard, at the bottom of\\nwhich, had Hester or Pearl peeped into it, they might\\nhave seen the frothy remnant of a recent draught of\\nale.\\nOn the wall hung a row of portraits, representing the\\nforefathers of the Bellingham lineage, some with armor\\non their breasts, and others with stately ruffs and robes\\nof peace. All were characterized by the sternness and\\nseverity which old portraits so invariably put on as if\\nthey were the ghosts, rather than the pictures, of de-\\nparted worthies, and were gazing with harsh and intol-\\nerant criticism at the pursuits and enjoyments of living\\nmen.\\nAt about the centre of the oaken panels, that lined\\nthe hall, was suspended a suit of mail, not, like the\\npictures, an ancestral relic, but of the most modem date\\nfor it had been manufactured by a skilful armorer ir\\nLondon, the same year in which Governor Bellingham\\ncame over to New England. There was a steel head-\\npiece, a cuirass, a gorget, and greaves, with a pair of\\ngauntlets and a sword hanging beneath all, and espec-\\nially the helmet and breastplate, so highly burnished\\nas to glow with white radiance, and scatter an illumina-\\ntion everywhere about upon the floor. This bright\\npanoply was not meant for mere idle show, but had\\nbeen worn by the Governor on many a solemn muster", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "THE GOVERNOR S HALL.\\n12\\nand training field, and had glittered, moreover, at the\\nhead of a regiment in the Pequod war. For, though\\nbred a lawyer, and accustomed to speak of Bacon, Coke,\\nNoje, and Finch, as his professional associates, the ex*\\nigences of this new country had transformed Governor\\nBellingham into a soldier, as well as a statesman and\\niuler.\\nLittle Pearl who was as greatly pleased with the\\ngleaming armor as she had been with the glittering fron-\\ntispiece of the house spent some time looking into the\\npolished mirror of the breastplate.\\nMother,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried she, I see you here. Look\\nLook\\nHester looked, by way of humoring the child and\\nshe saw that, owing to the peculiar effect of this con-\\nvex mirror, the scarlet letter was represented in exagger-\\nated and gigantic proportions, so as to be greatly the\\nmost prominent feature of her appearance. In truth,\\nshe seemed absolutely hidden behind it. Pearl pointed\\nupward, also, at a similar picture in the head-piece;\\nsmiling at her mother, with the elfish intelligence that\\nwas so familiar an expression on her small physiognomy.\\nThat look of naughty merriment was likewise reflected\\nin the mirror, with so much breadth and intensity of\\neffect, that it made Hester Prynne feel as if it could not\\nbe the image of her own child, but of an imp who was\\nseeking to mould itself into Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s shape.\\nCome along, Pearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, drawing her away.\\n1 Come and look into this rair garden. It may be, we\\nshall see flowers there more beautiful ones than we find\\nin the woods.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPearl accordingly, ran to the bow-window, a* tha", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "THE SCARLET LETTER.\\njOO\\nfurther end of the hall, and looked along the vista r f\\na gurden-walk, carpeted with closely shaven grass, and\\nbordered with some rude and immature attempt at shrub-\\nbery, But the proprietor appeared already to have re-\\nlinquished, as hopeless, the effort to perpetuate on this\\nside ?f the Atlantic, in a hard soil and amid the close\\nstruggle for subsistence, the native English taste for\\nornamental gardening. Cabbages grew in plain sight\\nand a pumpkin-vine, rooted at some distance, had run\\nacross the intervening space, and deposited one of its\\ngigantic products directly beneath the hall-window as\\nif towam the Governor that this great lump of vegetable\\ngold was as rich an ornament as New England earth\\nwould offer him. There were a few rose-bushes, how-\\never, and a number of apple-trees, probably the descend-\\nants of those planted by the Reverend Mr. Blackstone,\\nthe first settler of the peninsula that half mythological\\npersonage, who rides through our early annals, seated on\\nthe back of a bull.\\nPearl, seeing the rose-bur hes, began to cry for a red\\nrose, and would not be pacified,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHush, child, hush!\u00e2\u0080\u009d said ber mother, earnestly.\\nDo not cry, dear little Pearl I hear voices in the\\ngarden. The Governor is coming, and gentlemen along\\nwith him\\nIn fact, adown the vista of the garden avenue, a num\\nber of persons were seen auproaching towards the house.\\nPearl; in utter scorn of ber mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s attempt to quiet her,\\ngave an eldritch scream, and then became silent; not\\nfrom any notion of obedience, but because the quick and\\nmobile curiosity of her disposition excited by the\\ntppearar.ee of these new personage*.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "THE ELF -CHILD ANP THE MINISTER\\n123\\nVIII.\\nTHE ELF-CHILD AND THE MINISTER.\\nGovernor Bellingham, in a loose gown and easy\\ncap, such as elderly gentlemen loved to endue them-\\nselves with, in their domestic privacy, walked fore-\\nmost, and appeared to be showing off his estate, and\\nexpatiating on his projected improvements. The wide\\ncircumference of an elaborate ruff, beneath his gray\\nbeard, in the antiquated fashion of King James\u00e2\u0080\u0099 reign,\\ncaused his head to look not a little like that of John the\\nBaptist in a charger. The impression made by his\\naspect, so rigid and severe, and frost-bitten with more\\nthan autumnal age, was hardly in keeping with the ap-\\npliances of worldly enjoyment wherewith he had evi-\\ndently done his utmost to surround himself. But it is\\nan error to suppose that our grave forefathers though\\naccustomed to speak and think of human existence as a\\nstate merely of trial and w r arfare, and though unfeignedly\\nprepared to sacrifice goods and life at the behest of duty\\nmade it a matter of conscience to reject such means\\nof comfort, or even luxury, as lay fairly within theii\\ngrasp. This creed was never taught, for instance, by\\nthe venerable pastor, John Wilson, whose beard, white\\nas a snow-drift, was seen over Governor Bellingham\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nshoulder; while its wearer suggested that pears and\\npeaches might yet be naturalized in the New England\\nclimate, and that purple grapes might possibly be com-\\npelled to flourish against the sunny garden-wall The", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "124\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nold clergy. nan, nurtured at the rich bosom of the Eng\\nlish Church, had a long-established and legitimate taste\\nfor all good and comfortable things and however stern\\nhe might show himself in the pulpit, or in his public\\nreproof of such transgressions as that of Hester Prynne,\\nstill, the genial benevolence of his private life had won\\nhim warmer affection than was accorded to any of his\\nprofessional contemporaries.\\nBehind the Governor and Mr. Wilson came two other\\nguests one, the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale, whom\\nthe reader may remember, as having taken a brief and\\nreluctant part in the scene of Hester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s disgrace\\nand, in close companionship with him, old Roger Chil-\\nlingworth, a person of great skill in physic, who, for two\\nor three years past, had been settled in the town. It\\nwas understood that this learned man was the physician\\nas well as friend of the young minister, whose health\\nhad severely suffered, of late, by his too unreserved self-\\nsacrifice to the labors and duties of the pastoral rela-\\ntion.\\nThe Governor, in advance of his visitors, ascended\\none or two steps, and, throwing open the leaves of the\\ngreat hall window, found himself close to little Pearl.\\nThe shadow of the curtain fell on Hester Prynne, and\\npartially concealed her.\\nWhat have we here said Governor Bellingham,\\nlooking with surprise at the scarlet little figure before\\nhim. I profess, I have never seen the like, since my\\ndays of vanity, in old King James\u00e2\u0080\u0099 time, when I was\\nwont to esteem it a high favor to be admitted to a court\\nmask There used to be a swarm of these small ap-\\nparitions, in holiday time and at \u00e2\u0080\u0099ailed them children", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "THE ELF-CHILD AND THE MINISTER.\\n125\\nof the Lord of Misrule. But how gat such a guest into\\nmy hall\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAy, indeed cried good old Mr. Wilson. What\\nlittle bird of scarlet plumage may this be Methinks\\nI have seen just such figures, when the sun has been\\nshining through a richly painted window, and tracing\\nout the golden and crimson images across the floor.\\nBut that was in the old land. Prithee, young one, who\\nart thou, and what has ailed thy mother to bedizen thee\\nin this strange fashion Art thou a Christian child,\\nha Dost know thy catechism Or art thou one of\\nthose naughty elfs or fairies, whom we thought to have\\nleft behind us, with other relics of Papistry, in merry\\nold England\\nI am mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s child,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the scarlet vision,\\nand my name is Pearl\\nPearl Ruby, rather or Coral or Red Rose,\\nat the very least, judging from thy hue responded the\\nold minister, putting forth his hand in a vain attempt to\\npat little Pearl on the cheek. But where is this mother\\nof thine Ah I see,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he added and, turning to Gov-\\nernor Bellingham, whispered, This is the selfsame\\nchild of whom we have held speech together; and\\nbehold here the unhappy woman, Hester Prynne, her\\nmother\\nSayest- thou so cried the Governor. \u00e2\u0080\u009cNay, we\\nmight have judged that such a child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mother must needs\\nbe a scarlet woman, and a worthy type of her of Baby-\\nlon But she comes at a good time and we will look\\ninto this matter forthwith.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nGovernor Bellingham stepped through the window\\ninto the hall followed by his three guests.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "126\\nTHE SCARLET LE1TFR.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHester Prynne,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, fixing hi* mfunUy s*ern\\nregard on the wearer of the scarlet letter, them h^th\\nbeen much question concerning thee, of late, Tho\\npoint hath been weightily discussed, whether we, that\\nare of authority and influence, do well discharge ou*\\nconsciences by trusting an immortal soul, such as ther*\\nis in yonder child, to the guidance of one who hath\\nstumbled and fallen, amid the pitfalls of this world\\nSpeak thou, the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own mother! Were it not\\nthinkest thou, for thy little one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s temporal and eternal\\nwelfare, that she be taken out of thy charge, and clati\\nsoberly, and disciplined strictly, and instructed in tht\\ntruths of heaven and earth What canst thou do foi\\ndie child, in this kind?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI can teach my little Pearl what I have learned\\nfrom this answered Hester Prynne, laying her fingei\\non the red token.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWoman, it is thy badge of shame replied the sten\\nmagistrate. It is because of the stain which that lette.\\nindicates, that we would transfer thy child to otho\\nhands.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNevertheless,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the mother, calmly, though\\ngrowing more pale, this badge hath taught me, i\u00c2\u00bb\\ndaily teaches me, it is teaching me at this moment\\nlessons whereof my child may be the wiser ana\\nbetter, albeit they can profit nothing to myself.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWe will judge warily,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Bellingham, \u00e2\u0080\u009cana .ook\\nwell what we are about to do. Good Master Wilson, I\\npray you, examine this Pearl, since that is her name,\\nand see whether she hath had such Christian nurture\\nas befits a child of her age.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe old minister seated himself in an arm-chair, and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "THE ELF-CHILD AND THE -11NISTEK. VSi\\nmade an effort to draw Pearl betwixt his knees. But\\nthe child, unaccustomed to the touch or familiarity of\\nany but her mother, escaped through the open window,\\nand stood on the upper step, looking like a wild tropical\\nbird, of rich plumage, ready to take flight into the upper\\nair. Mr. Wilson, not a little astonished at this out-\\nbreak, for he was a grandfatherly sort of personage,\\nand usually a vast favorite with children, essayed,\\nhowever, to proceed with the examination.\\nPearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, with great solemnity, thou must\\ntake heed to instruction, that so, in due season, thou\\nmayest wear in thy bosom the pearl of great price.\\nCanst thou tell me, my child, who made thee?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNow Pearl knew well enough who made her; for\\nHester Prynne, the daughter of a pious home, very soon\\nafter her talk with the child about her Heavenly\\nFather, had begun to inform her of those truths which\\nthe human spirit, at whatever stage of immaturity,\\nimbibes with such eager interest. Pearl, therefore, so\\nlarge were the attainments of her three years\u00e2\u0080\u0099 lifetime,\\ncould have borne a fair examination in the New England\\nPrimer, or the first column of the Westminster Cate-\\nchisms, although unacquainted with the outward form\\nof either of those celebrated works. But that perversity,\\nwhich all children have more or less of, and of which\\nlittle Pearl had a ten-fold portion, now, at the most inop-\\nportune moment, took thorough possession of her, and\\nclosed her lips, or impelled her to speak words amiss.\\nAfter putting her finger in her mouth, with many\\nungracious refusals to answer good Mr. Wilson\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ques-\\ntion, the child finally announced that she had not been\\nmade at all, but had been plucked by her mother", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "128\\nTHE SCAR1.ET LETTER.\\noff the bush of wild roses that grew by the prison\\ndoor.\\nThis fantasy was probably suggested by the neai\\nproximity of the Governor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s red roses, as Pearl stood\\noutside of the window; together with her recollection\\nof the prison rose-bush, which she had passed in coming\\nhither.\\nOld Roger Chillingwortli, with a smile on his face,\\nwhispered something in the young clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ear.\\nHester Prynne looked at the man of skill, and even\\nthen, with her fate hanging in the balance, was startled\\nto perceive what a change had come over his features,\\nhow much uglier they were, how his dark com-\\nplexion seemed to have grown duskier, and his figure\\nmore misshapen, since the days when she had famil-\\niarly known him. She met his eyes for an instant, but\\nwas immediately constrained to give all her attention to\\nthe scene now going forward.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThis is awful!\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried the Governo jwly recov-\\nering from the astonishment into which Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s response\\nhad thrown him. Here is a child of three years old,\\nand she cannot tell who made her! Without question,\\nshe is equally in the dark as to her soul, its present\\ndepravity, and future destiny! Methinks, gentlemen,\\nwe need inquire no further.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHester caught hold of Pearl, and drew her forcibly\\ninto her arms, confronting the old Puritan magistrate\\nwith almost a fierce expression. Alone in the world,\\ncast off by it, and with this sole treasure to keep hei\\nheart alive, she felt that she possessed indefeasible\\nrights against the world, and was ready to detend them\\ntc die death.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "THE ELF-CHILD AND THE MINISTER.\\n129\\nGod gave me the child cried she. He gave her\\nin requital of all things else, which ye had taken from\\nine. She is my happiness! she is my torture, none\\nthe less Pearl keeps me here in life Pearl punishes\\nme too! See ye not, she is the scarlet letter, only\\ncapable of being loved, and so endowed with a million-\\nfold the power of retribution for my sin? Ye shall not\\ntake her I will die first\\nMy poor woman,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the not unkind old minister,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cthe child shall be well cared for! far better than\\nthou canst do it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cGod gave her into my keeping,\u00e2\u0080\u009d repeated Hester\\nPrynne, raising her voice almost to a shriek. I will\\nnot give her up And here, by a sudden impulse,\\nshe turned to the young clergyman, Mr. Dimmesdale\\nat whom, up to this moment, she had seemed hardly s#\\nmuch as once to direct her eyes. Speak thou f\\nme!\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried she. \u00e2\u0080\u009cThou wast my pastor, and hads?\\ncharge of my soul, and knowest me better than these*\\nmen can. I will not lose the child! Speak for me*\\nThou knowest, for thou hast sympathies which these\\nmen lack thou knowest what is in my heart, and\\nwhat are a mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s rights, and how much the strongei\\nthey are, when that mother has but her child and the\\nscarlet letter! Look thou to it! I will not lose the\\nchild Look to it\\nAt this wild and singular appeal, which indicated that\\nHester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s situation had provoked her to little less\\nthan madness, the young minister at once came forward,\\npale, and holding his hand over his heart, as was his\\ncustom whenever his peculiarly nervous temperament\\nara* thrown into agitation. He looked now more care\\n9", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "130\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nworn anH emaciated than as we described him at the\\nBeene ui Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s public ignominy and whether it were\\nhis failing health, or whatever the cause might be, his\\nlarge dark eyes had a world of pain in their troubled\\nand melancholy depth. f\\nThere is truth in what she says,\u00e2\u0080\u009d began the minis-\\ntei, with a voice sweet, tremulous, but powerful, inso-\\nmuch that the hall reechoed, and the hollow armor rang\\nwith it, truth in what Hester says, and in the feel-\\ning which inspires her God gave her the child, and\\ngave her, too, an instinctive knowledge of its nature and\\nrequirements, both seemingly so peculiar, which no\\nother mortal being can possess. And, moreover, is there\\nnot a quality of awful sacredness in the relation between\\nthis mother and this child\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAy! how is that, good Master Dimmesdale?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\ninterrupted the Governor. \u00e2\u0080\u009cMake that plain, I pray\\nyou!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt must be even so,\u00e2\u0080\u009d resumed the minister. For,\\nif we deem it otherwise, do we not thereby say that th?\\nHeavenly Father, the Creator of all flesh, hath lightly\\nrecognized a deed of sin, and made of no account the\\ndistinction between unhallowed lust and holy love?\\nThis child of its father\u00e2\u0080\u0099s guilt and its mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s shame\\nhath come from the hand of God, to work in many\\nways upon her heart, who pleads so earnestly, and with\\nsuch bitterness of spirit, the right to keep her. It was\\nmeant for a blessing for the one blessing of her life\\nIt was meant, doubtless, as the mother herself hath told\\nas, for a retribution too a torture to be felt at many an\\nunthought of moment a pang, a sting, an ever-recur-\\nring agony, in the midst of a troubled joy Hath she", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "THE ELF-CE1LD AND THE MINISTER, lLl\\nnot expressed this thought in the garb of the poor child^\\nso forcibly reminding us of that red symbol which sears\\nher bosom\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell said, again!\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried good Mr. Wilson. \u00e2\u0080\u009c1\\nfeared the woman had no better thought than to make\\na mountebank of her child\\nO, not so not so continued Mr. Dimmesdale.\\nShe recognizes, believe me, the solemn miracle which\\nGod hath wrought, in the existence of that child. And\\nmay she feel, too, what, methinks, is the very truth\\nthat this boon was meant, above all things else, to\\nkeep the mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s soul alive, and to preserve her from\\nblacker depths of sin into which Satan might else have\\nsought to plunge her! Therefore it is good for this\\npoor, sinful woman that she hath an infant immortality,\\na being capable of eternal joy or sorrow,, confided to\\nher care, to be trained up by her to righteousness,\\nto remind her, at every moment, of her fall, but yet\\nto teach her, as it were by the Creator\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sacred pledge,\\nthat, if she bring the child to heaven, the child also\\nwill bring its parent thither! Herein is the sinful\\nmother happier than the sinful father. For Hester\\nPiynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sake, then, and no less for the poor child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nsake, let us leave them as Providence hath seen fit to\\nplace them\\nYou speak, my friend, with a strange earnestness,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nsaid old Roger Chill ingworth, smiling at him.\\nAnd tnere is a weighty import in what my young\\nbrother hath spoken,\u00e2\u0080\u009d added the Reverend Mr. Wilson.\\nWhat say you, worshipful Master Bellingham Hath\\nhe not pleaded well for the poor woman\\nIndeed hath he,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the magistrate and hath", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "132\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nadduced such arguments, that we will even leave the\\nmatter as it now stands so long, at least, as there shall\\nhe no further scandal in the woman. Care must be had,\\nnevertheless, to put the child to due and stated examina-\\ntion in the catechism, at thy hands or Master Dimmes-\\ndale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s. Moreover, at a proper season, the tithing-men\\nmust take heed that she go both to school and to meet\\ning\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe young minister, cn ceasing to speak, had with-\\ndrawn a few steps from the group, and stood with his fac\u00c2\u00ab\\npartially concealed in the heavy folds of the window-\\ncurtain while the shadow of his figure, which the sunlight\\ncast upon the floor, was tremulous with the vehemence\\nof his appeal. Pearl, that wild and flighty little elf.\\nstole softly towards him, and taking his hand in the grasp\\nof both her own, laid her cheek against it a caress sg\\ntender, and withal so unobtrusive, that her mother, who\\nwas looking on, asked herself, Is that my Pearl\\nYet she knew that there was love in the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart,\\nalthough it mostly revealed itself in passion, and hardly\\ntwice in her lifetime had been softened by such gentle-\\nness as now. The minister, for, save the long-soughC\\nregards of woman, nothing is sweeter than these marks\\nof childish preference, accorded spontaneously by a spir-\\nitual instinct, and therefore seeming to imply in us some-\\nthing truly worthy to be loved, the minister looked\\nround, laid his hand on the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s head, hesitated an in-\\nstant, and then kissed her brow. Little Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s unwonted\\nmood of sentiment lasted no longer; she laughed, and\\nwent capering down the hall, so airily, that old Mr Wil\\nson raised a question whether even hei tiptoes touched\\ndie floor.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "THE ELT -CHILD AND THE MINISTER.\\nm\\nThe little baggage hath witchcraft in her, profess/*\\nsaid he to Mr. Dimmesdale. She needs no old woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nbroomstick to fly withal\\nA strange child remarked old Roger Chillingworth.\\nIt is easy to see the mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s part in her. Would it be\\nbeyond a philosopher\u00e2\u0080\u0099s research, think ye, gentlemen, to\\nanalyze that child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s nature, and, from its make and mould,\\nto give a shrewd guess at the father\\nNay it would be sinful, in such a question, to fol-\\nlow the clew of profane philosophy,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Mr. Wilson.\\nBetter to fast and pray upon it and still better, it may\\nbe, to leave the mystery as we find it, unless Providence\\nreveal it of its own accord. Thereby, every good Chris-\\ntian man hath a title to show a father\u00e2\u0080\u0099s kindness towards\\nthe poor, deserted babe.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe affair being so satisfactorily concluded, Hester\\nPrynne, with Pearl, departed from the house. As they\\ndescended the steps, it is averred that the lattice of a\\nchamber-window was thrown open, and forth into the\\nsunny day was thrust the face of Mistress Hibbins, Gov-\\nernor Bellingham\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bitter-tempered sister, and the same\\nwho, a few years later, was executed as a witch.\\nHist, hist said she, while her ill-omened physiog-\\nnomy seemed to cast a shadow over the cheerful newness\\nof the house. Wilt thou go with us to-night? There\\nwill be a merry company in the forest and I well-nigh\\npromised the Black Man that comely Hester Prynne\\nshould make one.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nMake my excuse to him, so please you answered\\nHester, with a triumphant smile. I must tarry at home,\\nand keep watch over my little Pearl. Had they taken\\nher from me, I would willingly have gone with thee into", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "134\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nthe forest, and signed my name in the Black Man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bock\\ntoo, and that with mine own blood\\nWe shall have thee there anon said the witch-\\nlady, frowning, as she drew back her head.\\nBut here if we suppose this interview betwixt Mis-\\ntress Hibbins and Hester Prynne to be authentic, and not\\na parable was already an illustration of the young\\nminister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s argument against sundering the relation of a\\nfallen mother to the offspring of her frailty. E\\\\ en thus\\nearly had the child saved her from Satan\u00e2\u0080\u0099s snare.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "THE LEECH.\\n135\\nIX.\\nTHE LEECH.\\nUnder the appellation of Roger Chillingworth, the\\nreader will remember, was hidden another name, which\\nits former wearer had resolved should never more be\\nspoken. It has been related, how, in the crowd that wit-\\nnessed Hester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ignominious exposure, stood a\\nman, elderly, travel-worn, who, just emerging from the\\nperilous wilderness, beheld the woman, in whom he hoped\\nto find embodied the warmth and cheerfulness of home,\\nset up as a type of sin before the people. Her matronly\\nfame was trodden under all men\u00e2\u0080\u0099s feet. Infamy was bab-\\nbling around her in the public market-place. For her\\nkindred, should the tidings ever reach them, and for the\\ncompanions of her unspotted life, there remained nothing\\nbut the contagion of her dishonor which would not fail\\nto be distributed in strict accordance and proportion with\\nthe intimacy and sacredness of their previous relation-\\nship. Then why since the choice was with himself\\nshould the individual, whose connection with the fallen\\nwoman had been the most intimate and sacred of them\\nall, come forward to vindicate his claim to an inheritance\\nso little desirable He resolved not to be pilloried beside\\nher on her pedestal of shame. Unknown to all but Hes-\\nter Prynne, and possessing the lock and key of her silence,\\nhe chose to withdraw his name from the roll of mankind,\\nand, as regarded his former ties and interests, to vanish\\nout of life as completely as if he indeed lay pt the bottom", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "136\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nof the ocean, whither rumor had long ago consigned him.\\nThis purpose once effected, new interests would imme-\\ndiately spring up, and likewise a new purpose dark, it\\nis true, if not guilty, but of force enough to engage the\\nfull strength of his faculties.\\nIn pursuance of this resolve, he took up his residence\\nin the Puritan town, as Koger Chillingworth, without\\nother introduction than the learning and intelligence of\\nwhich he possessed more than a common measure. As\\nhis studies, at a previous period of his life, had made him\\nextensively acquainted with the medical science of the\\nday, it was as a physician that he presented himself, and\\nas such was cordially received. Skilful men, of the\\nmedical and chirurgical profession, were of rare occur-\\nrence in the colony. They seldom, it would appear, par-\\ntook of the religious zeal that brought other emigrants\\nacross the Atlantic. In their researches into the human\\nframe, it may be that the higher and more subtile facul-\\nties of such men were materialized, and that they lost\\nthe spiritual view of existence amid the intricacies of that\\nwondrous mechanism, which seemed to involve art enough\\nto comprise all of life within itself. At all events, the\\nhealth of the good town of Boston, so far as medicine\\nhad aught to do with it, had hitherto lain in the guardian-\\nship of an aged deacon and apothecary, whose piety and\\ngodly deportment were stronger testimonials in his favor\\nthan any that he could have produced in the shape of a\\ndiploma. The only surgeon was one who combined the\\noccasional exercise of that noble art with the daily and\\nhabitual flourish of a razor. To such a professional body\\nReger Chillingworth was a brilliant acquisition. He soon\\nnanifested his familiarity with the ponderous and impos-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "THE LEECH.\\n/SI\\nin g machinery of antique physic in which every remedy\\ncontained a multitude of far-fetched and heterogeneous\\ningredients, as elaborately compounded as if the proposed\\nresult had been the Elixir of Life. In his Indian cap-\\ntivity, moreover, he had gained much knowledge of the\\nproperties of native herbs and roots nor did he conceal\\nfrom his patients, that these simple medicines, Nature\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nboon to the untutored savage, had quite as large a share\\nof his own confidence as the European pharmacopoeia,\\nwhich so many learned doctors had spent centuries in\\nelaborating.\\nThis learned stranger was exemplary, as regarded, at\\nleast, the outward forms of a religious life, and, early after\\nhis arrival, had chosen for his spiritual guide the Reverend\\nMr. Dimmesdale. The young divine, whose scholar-like\\nrenown still lived in Oxford, was considered by his more\\nfervent admirers as little less than a heavenly-ordained\\napostle, destined, should he live and labor for the ordi-\\nnary term of life, to do as great deeds for the now feeble\\nNew England Church, as the early Fathers had achieved\\nfor the infancy of the Christian faith. About this period,\\nhowever, the health of Mr. Dimmesdale had evidently\\nbegun to fail. By those best acquainted with his habits,\\nthe paleness of the young minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s cheek was accounted\\nfor by his too earnest devotion to study, his scrupulous\\nfulfilment of parochial duty, and, more than all, by the\\nfasts and vigils of which he made a frequent practice, in\\norder to keep the grossness of this earthly state from\\nclogging and obscuring his spiritual lamp. Some declared,\\nthat, if Mr. Dimmesdale were really going to die, it was\\ncause enough, that the world was not worthy to be any\\nlonger trodden by his feet. He himself, on the other", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "139\\nTHE SCARLET LETTS h.\\nhand, with characteristic humility, avowed his belief\\nthat, if Providence should see fit to remove him, it\\nwould be because of his own unworthiness to perform iti\\nnumbiest mission here on earth. With all this differ-\\nence of opinion as to the cause of his decline, then\\ncould be no question of the fact. His form grew ema\\ndated his voice, though still rich and sweet, had a cei-\\ntain melancholy prophecy of decay in it he was often\\nobserved, on any slight alarm or other sudden accident,\\nto put his hand over his heart, with first a flush and\\nthen a paleness, indicative of pain.\\nSuch was the young clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s condition, and so\\nimminent the prospect that his dawning light would be\\nextinguished, all untimely, when Roger Chillingworth\\nmade his advent to the town. His first entry on the\\nscene, few people could tell whence, dropping down,\\nas it were, out of the sky, or starting from the nether\\nearth, had an aspect of mystery, which was easily\\nheightened to the miraculous. He was now known to\\nbe a man of skill it was observed that he gathered\\nnerbs, and the blossoms of wild-flowers, and dug up\\nroots, and plucked off twigs from the forest-trees, like\\none acquainted with hidden virtues in what was value-\\nless to common eyes. He was heard to speak of Sir\\nKenelm Digby, and other famous men, whose scien-\\ntific attainments were esteemed hardly less than super-\\nnatural, as having been his correspondents or asso-\\nciate? Why, with such rank in the learned world, had\\nhe come hither What could he, whose sphere was in\\ngreat cities, be seeking in the wilderness In answer\\nto this query, a rumor gained ground, and, however\\nnbsurd, war, entertained by some very sensible people", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "THE LEECH.\\n139\\nthat Heaven hd X wrought an absolute miracle, by\\ntransporting an eminent Doctor of Physic, from a Ger-\\nman university, bodily through the air, and setting him\\ndown at the door of Mr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s study Individ\\nuals of wiser faith, indeed, who knew that Heaven pro-\\nmotes its purposes without aiming at the stage-effect of\\nwhat is called miraculous interposition, were inclined to\\nsee a providential hand in Roger Chillingworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s so\\nopportune arrival.\\nThis idea was countenanced by the strong interest\\nwhich the physician ever manifested in the young cler\\ngyman he attached himself to him as a parishioner,\\nand sought to win a friendly regard and confidence from\\nhis naturally reserved sensibility. He expressed great\\nalarm at his pastor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s state of health, but was anxious to\\nattempt the cure, and, if early undertaken, seemed not\\ndespondent of a favorable result. The elders, the dea-\\ncons, the motherly dames, and the young and fair maid-\\nens, of Mr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s flock, were alike importunate\\nthat he should make trial of the physician\u00e2\u0080\u0099s frankly\\noffered skill. Mr. Dimmesdale gently repelled their\\nentreaties.\\nI need no medicine,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he.\\nBut how could the young minister say so, when, with\\nevery successive Sabbath, his cheek was paler and thin-\\nner, and his voice more tremulous than before, when\\nit had now become a constant habit, rather than a casual\\ngesture, to press his hand over his heart Was he\\nweary of his labors Did he wish to die These ques-\\ntions were solemnly propounded to Mr. Dimmesdale by\\nthe elder ministers of Boston and the deacons of his\\nshurch, who, to use their own phrase, dealt with him", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "140\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\non the sin of rejecting the aid which Providenceso man-\\nifestly held out. He listened in silence, and finally\\npromised to confer with the physician.\\nWere it God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s will,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the Reverend Mr. Dim-\\nmesdale, when, in fulfilment of this pledge, he requested\\nold Roger Chillingworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s professional advice, I could\\nbe well content, that my labors, and my sorrows, and my\\nsins, and my pains, should shortly end with me, and\\nwhat is earthly of them be buried in my grave, and the\\nspiritual go with me to my eternal state, rather than\\nthat you should put your skill to the proof in my\\nbehalf.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAh,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied Roger Chillingworth, with that quiet-\\nness which, whether imposed or natural, marked all his\\ndeportment, it is thus that a young clergyman is apt\\nto speak. Youthful men, not having taken a deep root,\\ngive up their hold of life so easily And saintly men,\\nwho walk with God on earth, would fain be away, to\\nwalk with him on the golden pavements of the New\\nJerusalem.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNay,\u00e2\u0080\u009d rejoined the young minister, putting hie hand\\nto his heart, with a flush of pain flitting over his brow,\\nwere I worthier to walk there, I could be better content\\nto toil here.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nGood men ever interpret themselves too meanly,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nsaid the physician.\\nIn this manner, the mysterious old Roger Chilling-\\nworth became the medical adviser of the Reverend Mr.\\nDimmesdale. As not only the disease interested the\\nphysician, but he was strongly moved to look into the\\ncharacter and qualities of the patient, these two men, so\\ndifferen* in age, came gradually to spend much time", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "THE LEECH.\\n141\\ntogether. For the sake of the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s health, and to\\nenable the leech to gather plants with healing balm in\\nthem, they took long walks on the sea-shore, or in the\\nforest mingling various talk with the plash and mur.\\nmur of the waves, and the solemn wind-anthem among\\nthe tree-tops. Often, likewise, one was the guest of the\\nother, in his place of study and retirement. There was\\na fascination for the minister in the company of the man\\nof science, in whom he recognized an intellectual culti-\\nvation of no moderate depth or scope together with a\\nrange and freedom of ideas, that he would have vainly\\nlooked for among the members of his own profession.\\nIn truth, he was startled, if not shocked, to find this\\nattribute in the physician. Mr. Dimmesdale was a true\\npriest, a true religionist, with the reverential sentiment\\nlargely developed, and an order of mind that impelled\\nitself powerfully along the track of a creed, and wore its\\npassage continually deeper with the lapse of time. In\\nno state of society would he have been what is called a\\nman of liberal views it would always be essential to\\nhis peace to feel the pressure of a faith about him, sup-\\nporting, while it confined him within its iron framework.\\nNot the less, however, though with a tremulous enjoy-\\nment, did he feel the occasional relief of looking at the\\nuniverse through the medium of another kind of intel-\\nlect than those with which he habitually held converse. It\\nwas as if a window were thrown open, admitting a freer\\natmosphere into the close and stifled study, where, his\\nlife was wasting itself away, amid lamp-light, or ob-\\nstructed day-beams, and the musty fragrance, be it sen-\\nsual or moral, that exhales from books. But the air was\\ntoo fresh and shill to be long breathed with comfort So", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "142\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nthe minister, and the physician with him, withdrew\\nagain within the limits of what their church defined as\\northodox.\\nThus Roger Chillingworth scrutinized his patient\\ncarefully, both as he saw him in his ordinary life, keep-\\ning an accustomed pathway in the range of thoughts\\nfamiliar to him, and as he appeared when thrown amidst\\nother moral scenery, the novelty of which might call out\\nsomething new to the surface of his character. He\\ndeemed it essential, it would seem, to know the man,\\nl efore attempting to do him good. Wherever there is a\\nheart and an intellect, the diseases of the physical frame\\nare tinged with the peculiarities of these. In Arthur\\nDimmesdale, thought and imagination were so active,\\nand sensibility so intense, that the bodily infirmity would\\nbe likely to have its ground-work there. So Roger\\nChillingworth the man of skill, the kind and friendly\\nphysician strove to go deep into his patient\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom,\\ndelving among his principles, prying into his recollec-\\ntions, and probing everything with a cautious touch,\\nlike a treasure-seeker in a dark cavern. Few secrets\\ncan escape an investigator, who has opportunity and\\nlicense to undertake such a quest, and skill to follow it\\nup. A man burdened with a secret should especially\\navoid the intimacy of his physician. If the latter pos-\\nsess native sagacity, and a nameless something more,\\nlet us call it intuition if he show no intrusive egotism,\\nnor disagreeably prominent characteristics of his own\\nif he have the power, which must be born with him, to\\nbring his min 1 into such affinity with his patient\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, that\\nthis last shall unawares have spokeu what he imagines\\nhimself only to have thought; if such revelations be", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "THE LEECH.\\n143\\nreceived without tumult, and acknowledged not so often\\nby an uttered sympathy as by silence, an inarticulate\\nbreath, and hern and there a word, to indicate that all is\\nunderstood if to these qualifications of a confidant be\\njoined the advantages afforded by his recognized charac-\\nter as a physician then, at some inevitable moment,\\nwill the soul of the sufferer be dissolved, and flow forth\\nin a dark, but transparent stream, bringing all its myste-\\nries into the daylight.\\nRoger Chillingworth possessed all, or most, of the\\nattributes above enumerated. Nevertheless, time went\\non a kind of intimacy, as we have said, grew up between\\nthese two cultivated minds, which had as wide a field as\\nthe whole sphere of human thought and study, to meet\\nupon they discussed every topic of ethics and religion,\\nof public affairs, and private character; they talked much,\\non both sides, of matters that seemed personal to them-\\nselves and yet no secret, such as the physician fancied\\nmust exist there, ever stole out of the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s con-\\nsciousness into his companion\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ear. The latter had his\\nsuspicions, indeed, that even the nature of Mr. Dimmes-\\ndale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bodily disease had never fairly been revealed to\\nhim. It was a strange reserve\\nAfter a time, at a hint from Roger Chillingworth, the\\nfriends of Mr. Dimmesdale effected an arrangement by\\nwhich the two were lodged in the same house so that\\nevery ebb and flow of the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s life-tide might pass\\nunder the eye of his anxious and attached physician.\\nThere was much joy throughout the town, when this\\ngreatly desirable object was attained. It was he. Id to be\\nthe best possib e measure for the young clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nwelfare unless, indeed, as often urged by such as fell", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "144 THE SCARLET LETTER.\\nauthorized to do so, he had selected some one of the\\nmany blooming damsels, spiritually devoted to him, to\\nbecome his devoted wife. This latter step, however,\\nthere was no present prospect that Arthur Dimmesdale\\nwould be prevailed upon to take he rejected all sugges-\\ntions of the kind, as if priestly celibacy were one of his\\narticles of church-discipline. Doomed by his own choice,\\ntherefore, as Mr. Dimmesdale so evidently was, to eat\\nhis unsavory morsel always at another\u00e2\u0080\u0099s board, and en-\\ndure the life-long chill which must be his lot who seeks\\nto warm himself only at another\u00e2\u0080\u0099s fireside, it truly seemed\\nthat this sagacious, experienced, benevolent old physi-\\ncian, with his concord of paternal and reverential love\\nfor the young pastor, was the very man, of all mankind,\\nto be constantly within reach of his voice.\\nThe new abode of the two friends was with a pious\\nwidow, of good social rank, who dwelt in a house cover-\\ning pretty nearly the site on which the venerable struc-\\nture of King\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Chapel has since been built. It had the\\ngrave-yard, originally Isaac Johnson\u00e2\u0080\u0099s home-field, on one\\nside, and so was well adapted to call up serious reflec-\\ntions, suited to their respective employments, in both\\nminister and man of physic. The motherly care of the\\ngood widow assigned to Mr. Dimmesdale a front apart-\\nment, with a sunny exposure, and heavy window-curtains\\nto create a noontide shadow, when desirable. I The walls\\nwere hung round with tapestry, said to be from the\\nGobelin looms, and, at all events, representing the Scrip-\\ntural story of David and Bathsheba, and Nathan the\\nProphet, in colors still unfaded, but which made the fair\\nwoman of the scene almost as grimly picturesque as the\\nwoe-denouncing seer. Here, the pale clergyman piled", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "THE LEECH.\\n145\\nnp his library, rich with parchment-bound folios of the\\nFathers, and the lore of Rabbis, and monkish erudition,\\nof which the Protestant divines, even while they vilified\\nand decried that class of writers, were yet constrained\\noften to avail themselves. On the other side of the\\nhouse, old Roger Chillingworth arranged his study and\\nlaboratory not such as a modern man of science would\\nreckon even tolerably complete, but provided with a dis-\\ntilling apparatus, and the means of compounding drugs\\nmd chemicals, which the practised alchemist knew well\\nhow to turn to purpose. With such commodiousness\\nof situation, these two learned persons sat themselves\\ndown, eacn in his own domain, yet familiarly passing\\nfrom one apartment to the other, and bestowing a mu-\\ntual and not incurious inspection into one another\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nbusiness.\\nAnd the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s best discern-\\ning friends, as we have intimated, very reasonably imag-\\nined that the hand of Providence had done all this, for\\nthe purpose besought in so many public, and domestic,\\nand secret prayers of restoring the young minister to\\nhealth. But it must now be said another portion\\nof the community had latterly begun to take its own view\\nof the relation betwixt Mr. Dimmesdale and the myste-\\nrious old physician. When an uninstructed multitude\\nattempts to see with its eyes, it is exceedingly apt to be\\ndeceived. When, however, it forms its judgment, as it\\nusually does, on the intuitions of its great and warm\\nheart, the conclusions thus attained are often so profound\\nand so unerring, as to possess the character of truths\\neupematu rally revealed. The people, in the case of\\nwhich wc speak, could justify its prejudice against Roge*\\n10", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "146\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nChilling wci th by no fact or argument worthy of seriou*\\nrefutation. There was an aged handicraftsman, it is\\ntrue, who had been a citizen of London at the period of\\nSir Thomas Overbury\u00e2\u0080\u0099s murder, now some thirty yea r3\\nagone he testified to having seen the physician, under\\nsome other name, which the narrator of the story had\\nnow forgotten, in company with Doctor Forman, the\\nfamous old conjurer, who was implicated in the affair of\\nOverbury. Two or three individuals hinted, that the\\nman of skill, during his Indian captivity, had enlarged\\nhis medical attainments by joining in the incantations\\nof the savage priests who were universally acknowl-\\nedged to be powerful enchanters, often performing seem-\\ningly miraculous cures by their skill in the black art.\\nA large number and many of these were persons of\\nsuch sober sense and practical observation that theii\\nopinions would have been valuable, in other matters\\naffirmed that Roger Chillingworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s aspect had under-\\ngone a remarkable change while he had dwelt in town,\\nand especially since his abode with Mr. Dimmesdaic.\\nAt first, his expression had been calm, meditative, scholar-\\nlike. Now, there was something ugly and evil in his\\nface, which they had not previously noticed, and which\\ngrew still the more obvious to sight, the oftener the\\nlooked upon him. According to the vulgar ilea, th\u00c2\u00bb\\nfire in his laboratory had been brought from the lowe\\nregions, and was fed with infernal fuel; and so, a.\\nmight be expected, his visage was getting sooty with tht\\nsmoke.\\nTo sum up the matter, it grew to be a widely diffused\\nopinion, that the Reverend Arthur Dimmest! ale, like\\nmany other personages of especial sanctity, in all ages", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "THL LEECH.\\ni n\\nof the Christian world, was haunted either by Satan\\nhimself, or Satan\u00e2\u0080\u0099s emissary, in the guise of old Roger\\nChillingworth. This diabolical agent had the Divine\\npermission, for a season, to burrow into the clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nintimacy, and plot against his soul. No sensible man,\\nit was confessed, could doubt on which side the victory\\nwould turn. The people looked, with an unshaken hope,\\nto see the minister come forth out of the conflict, trans-\\nfigured with the glory which he would unquestionably\\nwin. Meanwhile, nevertheless, it was sad to think of\\nthe perchance mortal agony through which he must\\nstruggle towards his triumph.\\nAlas! to judge from the gloom and terror in the depths\\nof the poor minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eyes, the battle was a sore one and\\nthe victory anything but secure", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "t48\\nTHE SCARIJST LETTER.\\nX.\\nTHE LEECH AND HIS PATIEN1\\nOil Roger Chillingworth, throughout life, had been\\nculm in temperament, kindly, though not of warm affec-\\ntions, but ever, and in all his relations with the world, a\\npure and upright man. He had begun an investigation,\\nas he imagined, with the severe and equal integrity of a\\njudge, desirous only of truth, even as if the question\\ninvolved no more than the air-drawn lines and figures\\nof a geometrical problem, instead of human passions, and\\nwrongs inflicted on himself. But, as he proceeded, a\\nterrible fascination, a kind of fierce, though still calm,\\nnecessity seized the old man within its gripe, and never\\nset him free again, until he had done all its bidding.\\nHe now dug into the poor clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart, like a\\nminer searching for gold or, rather, like a sexton delv-\\ning into a grave, possibly in quest of a jewel that had\\nbeen buried on the dead man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom, but likely to find\\nnothing save mortality and corruption. Alas for his own\\nsoul, if these were what he sought\\nSometimes, a light glimmered out of the physician\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\neyes, burning blue and ominous, like the reflection of a\\nfurnace, or, let us say, like one of those gleams of ghastly\\nfire that darted from Bunyan\u00e2\u0080\u0099s awful door- way in the\\nhill-side, and quivered on the pilgrim\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face. The soil\\nwhere this dark miner was working had perchance shown\\nindications that encouraged him.\\nThis man,\u00e2\u0080\u0099\u00e2\u0080\u0099 said he, at one such moment, to him-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "VHE LEECH AND HIS PATIENT.\\n149\\nfeel), pure as they deem him, all spiritual as he seems,\\nhath inherited a strong animal nature from his fathe:\\nor his mother. Let us dig a little further in the direc-\\ntion of this vein\\nThen, after long search into the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s dim inte-\\nrior, and turning over many precious materials, in the\\nshape of high aspirations for the welfare of his race,\\nwarm love of souls, pure sentiments, natural piety,\\nstrengthened by thought and study, and illuminated by\\nTevelation, all of which invaluable gold was perhaps\\n10 better than rubbish to the seeker, he would turn\\nback, discouraged, and begin his quest towards another\\npoint. He groped along as stealthily, with as cautious\\na tread, and as wary an outlook, as a thief entering a\\nchamber where a man lies only half asleep, or, it may\\nbe, broad awake, with purpose to steal the very treas-\\nure which this man guards as the apple of his eye. In\\nspite of his premeditated carefulness, the floor would\\nnow and then creak; his garments would rustle; the\\nshadow of his presence, in a forbidden proximity, would\\nbe thrown across his victim. In other words, Mr. Dim-\\nmesdale, whose sensibility of nerve often produced the\\neffect of spiritual intuition, would become vaguely aware\\nthat something inimical to his peace had thrust itself\\ninto relation with him. But old Roger Chillingworth,\\ntoo, had perceptions that were almost intuitive; and\\nwhen the minister threw his startled eyes towards him,\\nthere the physician sat; his kind, watchful, sympathiz-\\ning, but never intrusive friend.\\nYet Mr. Dimmesdale would perhaps have seen this\\nindividual\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character more perfectly, if a certain mor-\\nbidness. to which sick hearts are fable, had not reu", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "150\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\ndered him suspicious of all mankind. Trusting no man\\nas his friend, he could not recognize his enemy when\\nthe latter actually appeared. He therefore still kept up\\na familiar intercourse w ith him, daily receiving the old\\nphysician in his study or visiting the laboratory, and\\nfor recreation\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sake, watching the processes by which\\nweeds were converted into drugs of potency.\\nOne day, leaning his forehead on his hand, and his\\nelbow on the sill of the open window, that looked\\ntowards the grave-yard, he talked with Roger Chilling-\\nworth, while the old man was examining a bundle of\\nunsightly plants.\\nWhere,\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked he, with a look askance at them,\\nfor it was the clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s peculiarity that he seldom,\\nnow-a-days, looked straightforth at any object, whether\\nhuman or inanimate \u00e2\u0080\u009cwhere, my kind doctor, did\\nyou gather those herbs, with such a dark, flabby leaf?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cEven in the grave-yard here at hand,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered\\nthe physician, continuing his employment. They are\\nnew to me. I found them growing on a grave, which\\nbore no tomb-stone, nor other memorial of the dead man,\\nsave these ugly weeds, that have taken upon themselves\\nto keep him in remembrance. They grew out of his\\nheart, and typify, it may be, some hideous secret that\\nwas buried with him, and which he had done better to\\nconfess during his lifetime.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cPerchance,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Mr. Dimmesdale, \u00e2\u0080\u009che earnestly\\ndesired it, but could not.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd wherefore?\u00e2\u0080\u009d rejoined the physician. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWhere-\\nfore not since all the pow T ers of nature call so earnestly\\nfoi the confession of sin, that these black weeds have", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "THL LEECH ..ND IIIS PATIENT.\\n151\\nspining up out of a buried heart, to make manifest an\\nunspoken crime\\nThat, good Sir, is but a fantasy of yours,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied\\nthe mli.uter. There can be, if I forebode aright, no\\npower, short of the Divine mercy, to disclose, whether\\nby uttered words, or by type or emblem, the secrets that\\nmay be buried with a human heart. The heart, making\\nitself guilty of such secrets, must perforce hold them,\\nuntil the day when all hidden things shall be revealed.\\nNor have I so read or interpreted Holy Writ, as to\\nunderstand that the disclosure of numan thoughts and\\ndeeds, then to be made, is intended as a part of the retri\\nbution. That, surely, were a shallow view of it. No\\nthese revelations, unless I greatly err, are meant merely\\nto promote the intellectual satisfaction of all intelligent\\nbeings, who will stand waiting, on that day, to see the\\ndark problem of this life made plain. A knowledge of\\nmen\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hearts will be needful to the completest solution\\nof that problem. And I conceive, moreover, that the\\nhearts holding such miserable secrets as you speak of\\nwill yield them up, at that last day, not with reluctance,\\nbut with a joy unutterable.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThen why not reveal them here asked Ro ger\\nChillingworth, glancing quietly aside at the minister.\\nWhy should not the guilty ones sooner avai 1 them-\\nselves of this unutterable solace\\nThey mostly do,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the clergyman, griping hard\\nat his breast, as if afflicted with an importunate throb of\\npain. Many, many a poor soul hath given its confi-\\ndence to me, not only on the death-bed, but while strong\\nin life, and fair in reputation. And ever, after such an\\ntrotpouring, O, what a relief have 1 witnessed in those", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "152\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nsinful brethren! even as in one who at last draws free\\nair, after long stifling with his own polluted breath.\\nHow can it be otherwise Why should a wretched\\nman, guilty, we will say, of murder, prefer to keep\\nthe dead corpse buried in his own heart, rather than\\nfling it forth at once, and let the universe take caie\\nof it!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYet some men bury their secrets thus.\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed the\\ncalm physician.\\nTrue there are such men.\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Mr. Dimmer\\ndale. But, not to suggest more obvious reasons, it may\\nbe that they are kept silent by the very constitution\\nof their nature. Or, can we not suppose it? guilty\\nas they may be, retaining, nevertheless, a zeal for God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nglory and man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s welfare, they shrink from displaying\\nthemselves black and filthy in the view of men be-\\ncause, thenceforward, no good can be achieved by them\\nno evil of the past be redeemed by better service. So,\\nto their own unutterable torment, they go about among\\ntheir fellow-creatures, looking pure as new-fallen snow\\nwhile their hearts are all speckled and spotted wit*\\niniquity of which they cannot rid themselves.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n%x These men deceive themselves,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Roger Chil\\nlingworth, with somewhat more emphasis than usual\\nand making a slight gesture with his forefinger.\\nThey fear to take up the shame that rightfully belongs\\nto them. Their love for man, their zeal for God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ser-\\nvice, these holy impulses may or may not coexist in\\ntheir hearts with the evil inmates to which their guilt\\nhas unbarred the door, and which must needs propagate\\na hellish breed within them. But, if they seek to glo\u00c2\u00ab\\nrify God, let them not lift heavenward their unclean", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "THE LEECH AND IIIS PATIENT.\\n153\\nhands If tney would serve their fellow-men, let them\\ndo it by making manifest the power and reality of\\nconscience, in constraining them to penitential self-\\nabasement! Wouldst thou have me to believe, 0 wise\\nand pious friend, that a false show can be better can\\nbe more for God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s glory, or man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s welfare than\\nGod\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own truth Trust me, such men deceive them-\\nselves\\nIt may be so,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the young clergyman, indiffer-\\nently as waiving a discussion that he considered irrele\\nvant or unseasonable. He had a ready faculty, indeed,\\nof escaping from any topic that agitated his too sensitive\\nand nervous temperament. But, now, I would ask\\nof my well-skilled physician, whether, in good sooth, he\\ndeems me to have profited by his kindly care of this\\nweak frame of mine\\nBefore Roger Chillingworth could answer, they heard\\nthe clear, wild laughter of a young child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice, pro-\\nceeding from the adjacent burial-ground. Looking\\ninstinctively from the open window, for it was sum-\\nmer-time, the minister beheld Hester Prynne and\\nlittle Pearl passing along the foot-path that traversed the\\nenclosure. Pearl looked as beautiful as the day, bat\\nwas in one of those moods of perverse merriment\\nwhich, whenever they occurred, seemed to remove her\\nentirely out of the sphere of sympathy or human contact.\\nShe now skipped irreverently from one grave to another\\nuntil, coming to the broad, flat, armorial tomb-stone of a\\ndeparted worthy, perhaps of Isaac Johnson himself,\\nshe began to dance upon it. In reply to her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\ncommand and entreaty that she would behave more\\ndecorously, little Pearl paused to gather the prickly", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "154\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nburrs from a tall burdock which grew beside the tomb\\nTaking a handful of these, she arranged them along the\\nlines of the scarlet letter that decorated the maternal\\nbosom, to which the burrs, as their nature was, tena-\\nciously adhered. Hester did not pluck them off.\\nRoger Chillingworth had by this time approached the\\nwindow, and smiled grimly down.\\nThere is no law, nor reverence for authority, no\\nregard for human ordinances or opinions, right or\\nwrong, mixed up with that child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s composition,\u00e2\u0080\u009d re-\\nmarked he, as much to himself as to his companion\\nI saw her, the other day, bespatter the Governor him-\\nself with water, at the cattle-trough in Spring-lane.\\nWhat, in Heaven\u00e2\u0080\u0099s name, is she Is the imp altogether\\nevil? Hath she affections? Hath she any discovera-\\nble principle of being\\nNone, save the freedom of a broken law,\u00e2\u0080\u009d an-\\nswered Mr. Dimmesdale, in a quiet way, as if he had\\nbeen discussing the point within himself. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWhether\\ncapable of good, I know not.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe child probably overheard their voices for, look-\\ning up to the window, with a bright, but naughty smile\\nof mirth and intelligence, she threw one of the prickly\\nburrs at the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale. The sensitive\\nclergyman shrunk, with nervous dread, from the light\\nmissile. Detecting his emotion, Pearl clapped her little\\nhands, in the most extravagant ecstacy. Hester Prynne,\\nlikewise, had involuntarily looked up; and all these\\nfour persons, old and young, regarded one another in\\nsilence, till the child laughed aloud, and shouted,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cCome away, mother! Come away, or yonder old\\nBlack Man will catch you He hath got hold of the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "THE LEECH AND HIS PATIENT.\\n155\\nministir already. Come away, mother, or he will catch\\nyou But he cannot catch little Pearl\\nSo she drew her mother away, skipping, dancing,\\nand frisking fantastically, among the hillocks of the\\ndead people, like a creature that had nothing in com*\\nmon with a bygone and buried generation, nor owned\\nherself akin to it. It was as if she had been made\\nafresh, out of new elements, and must perforce be per-\\nmitted to live her own life, and be a law unto herself,\\nwithout her eccentricities being reckoned to her for a\\ncrime.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThere goes a woman,\u00e2\u0080\u009d resumed Roger Chilling-\\nworth, after a pause, who, be her demerits what they\\nmay, hath none of that mystery of hidden sinfulness\\nwhich you deem so grievous to be borne. Is Hester\\nPrynne the less miserable, think you, for that scarlet\\nletter on her breast\\nI do verily believe it,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the clergyman.\\nNevertheless, I cannot answer for her. There was\\na look of pain in her face, which I would gladly have\\nbeen spared the sight of. But still, methinks, it must\\nneeds be better for the sufferer to be free to show his\\npain, as this poor woman Hester is, than to cover it all\\nup in his heart.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThere was another pause and the physician began\\nanew to examine and arrange the plants which he had\\ngathered.\\nYou inquired of me, a little time agone,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he,\\nat length, my judgment as touching your health.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI did,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the clergyman, and would gladly\\nlearn it. Speak frankly, I pray you, be it for life o\\ndeath", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "156\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nFreely, then, and plainly,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the physician, still\\nbusy with his plants, but keeping a wary eye on Mr\\nDimmesdale, the disorder is a strange one not so\\nmuch in itself, nor as outwardly manifested, in so\\nfar, at least, as the symptoms have been laid open to\\nmy observation. Looking daily at you, my good Sir,\\nand watching the tokens of your aspect, now for months\\ngone by, 1 should deem you a man sore sick, it may be,\\nyet not so sick but that an instructed and watchful phy-\\nsician might well hope to cure you. But I know not\\nvhat to say the disease is what I seem to know, yet\\nknow it not.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYou speak in riddles, learned Sir,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the pale\\nminister, glancing aside out of the window.\\nThen, to speak more plainly,\u00e2\u0080\u009d continued the phy-\\nsician, \u00e2\u0080\u009cand I crave pardon, Sir, should it seem to\\nrequire pardon, for this needful plainness of my speech.\\nLet me ask, as your friend, as one having charge,\\nunder Providence, of your life and physical well-being,\\nhath all the operation of this disorder been fairly laid\\nopen and recounted to me\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHow can you question it?\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked the minister.\\nSurely, it were child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s play, to call in a physician, and\\nthen hide the sore\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYou would tell me, then, that I know all?\u00e2\u0080\u009d said\\nRoger Chillingworth, deliberately, and fixing an eye\\nbright with intense and concentrated intelligence, on\\nthe minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face. Be it so But, again He to\\nwhom only the outward and physical evil is laid open,\\nknoweth, oftentimes, but half the evil which he is called\\nupon to cure. A bodily disease, which we look upon\\nwhrdp an 1 entire within itself, may, after all- be but", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "TI1E LEECH AND HIS PATIENT.\\n157\\na symptom of some ailment in the spiritual part Youi\\npardon, once again, good Sir, if my speech give the\\nshadow of offence. You, Sir, of all men whom I have\\nknown, are he whose body is the closest conjoined, and\\nimbued, and identified, so io speak, with the spirit\\nwhereof it is the instrument.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThen I need ask no further,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the clergyman,\\nsomewhat hastily rising from his chair. You deal not,\\nI take it, in medicine for the soul\\nThus, a sickness,\u00e2\u0080\u009d continued Roger Chillingworth,\\ngoing on, in an unaltered tone, without heeding the\\ninterruption, -but standing up, and confronting the\\nemaciated and white-cheeked minister, with his low,\\ndark, and misshapen figure, \u00e2\u0080\u009ca sickness, a sore place,\\nif we may so call it, in your spirit, hath immediately\\nits appropriate manifestation in your bodily frame.\\nWould you, therefore, that your physician heal the\\nbodily evil? How may this be, unless you first lay\\nopen to him the wound or trouble in your soul\\nNo not to thee not to an earthly physician\\ncried Mr. Dimmesdale, passionately, and turning his\\neyes, full and bright, and with a kind of fierceness, on\\nold Roger Chillingworth. Not to thee But, if it be\\nthe soul\u00e2\u0080\u0099s disease, then do I commit myself to the one\\nPhysician of the soul! He, if it stand with his good\\npleasuie, can cure; or he can kill! Let him do with\\nme as, in his justice and wisdom, he shall see good.\\nBut who art thou, that meddlest in this matter that\\ndares thrust himself between the sufferer and his God\\nWith a frantic gesture, he rushed out of the room.\\nIt is as well to have made this step,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said K ?ger\\nChillingworth to himself, looking after the minister", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "158\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\na grave smile. There is nothing lost. We shall be\\nfriends again anon. But see, now, how passion takes\\nhold upon this man, and hurrieth him out of himself!\\nAs with one passion, so with another He hath done\\na wild thing ere now, this pious Master Dimmesdale,\\nin the hot passion of his heart\\nIt proved not difficult to reestablish the intimacy of\\nthe two companions, on the same footing and in the\\nsame degree as heretofore. The young clergyman,\\nafter a few hours of privacy, was sensible that the dis-\\norder of his nerves had hurried him into an unseemly\\noutbreak of temper, which there had been nothing in\\nthe physician\u00e2\u0080\u0099s words to excuse or palliate. He mar-\\nvelled, indeed, at the violence with which he had thrust\\nback the kind old man, when merely proffering the\\nadvice which it was his duty to bestow, and which the\\nminister himself had expressly sought. With these re-\\nmorseful feelings, he lost no time in making the amplest\\napologies, and besought his friend still to continue the\\ncare, which, if not successful in restoring him to health,\\nhad, in all probability, been the means of prolonging his\\nfeeble existence to that hour. Roger Chillingworth\\nreadily assented, and went on with his medical super-\\nvision of the minister; doing his best for him, in oil\\ngood faith, but always quitting the patient\u00e2\u0080\u0099s apartment,\\nat the close of a professional interview, with a mysteri-\\nous and puzzled smile upon his lips. This expression\\nwas invisible in Mr. Dimmesdale \u00e2\u0080\u0099s presence, but grew\\nstrongly evident as the physician crossed the thresh-\\nold.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cA rare case!\u00e2\u0080\u009d he muttered. I must needs look\\ndeeper intG it. A strange sympathy betwixt soul and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "THE LEECn AND HIS PATIENT.\\n159\\nbody! Were it only for the art s sake, I must search\\nthis matter to the bottom\\nIt came to pass, not long after the scene above re-\\ncorded, that the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale, at noon-\\nday, and entirely unawares, fell into a deep, deep slum-\\nber, sitting in his chair, with a large black-letter volume\\nopen before him on the table. It must have been a\\nwork of vast ability in the somniferous school of litera-\\nture. The profound depth of the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s repose was\\nthe more remarkable, inasmuch as he was one of those\\npersons whose sleep, ordinarily, is as light, as fitful, and\\nas easily scared away, as a small bird hopping on a twig.\\nTo such an unwonted remoteness, however, had his\\nspirit now withdrawn into itself, that he stiired not in\\nhis chair, when old Roger Chillingworth, without any\\nextraordinary precaution, came into the room. The phy-\\nsician advanced directly in front of his patient, laid his\\nhand upon his bosom, and thrust aside the vestment,\\nthat, hitherto, had always covered it even from the pro-\\nfessional eye.\\nThen, indeed, Mr. Dimmesdale shuddered, and slight-\\nly stirred.\\nAfter a brief pause, the physician turned away.\\nBut, with what a wild look of wonder, joy, and\\nhorror! With what a ghastly rapture, as it were, too\\nmighty to be expressed only by the eye and features,\\nand therefore bursting forth through the whole ugliness\\noi his figure, and making itself even riotously manifest\\nby the extravagant gestures with which he threw up his\\narms towards the ceiling, and stamped his foot upon\\nthe floor! Had a man seen old Roger Chillingworth,\\nit that moment of his ecstacy, he would have had d/j", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "160\\nTHE SCARLET ^E iTER.\\nneed to ask how Satan comports himself, when a pre*\\ncious human soul is lost to Heaven, and won into Ins\\nkingdom.\\nBut what distinguished the physician\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ecstacy from\\nSatan\u00e2\u0080\u0099s was the trait of wonder in it", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "THE INTERIOR OF A HEART.\\nXI.\\nTHE INTERIOR OF A HEART.\\nAfter the incident last described, the intercourse\\nbetween the clergyman and the physician, though ex-\\nternally the same, was really of another character than\\nit had previously been. The intellect of Roger Chil-\\nlingworth had now a sufficiently plain path before it.\\nIt was not, indeed, precisely that which he had laid out\\nfor himself to tread. Calm, gentle, passionless, as he\\nappeared, there was yet, we fear, a quiet depth of malice,\\nhitherto latent, but active now, in this unfortunate old\\nman, which led him to imagine a more intimate revenge\\nthan any mortal had ever wreaked upon an enemy. To\\nmake himself the one trusted friend, to whom should be\\nconfided all the fear, the remorse, the agony, the ineffect-\\nual repentance, the backward rush of sinful thoughts,\\nexpelled in vain All that guilty sorrow, hidden from\\nthe world, whose great heart would have pitied and for-\\ngiven, to be revealed to him, the Pitiless, to him, the\\nUnforgiving All that dark treasure to be lavished on\\nthe very man, to whom nothing else could so adequately\\npay the debt of vengeance\\nThe clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s shy and sensitive reserve had balked\\nthis scheme. Roger Chillingworth, however, was in-\\nclined to be hardly, if at all, less satisfied with the aspect\\nof affairs, which Providence using the avenger and\\nhis victim for its own purposes, and, perchance, pardon-\\ning, where it seemed most to punish had substituted\\nn", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "the scarlet letter.\\nfor his black devices. A revelation, he could almost say\\nhad been granted to him. It mattered little, for his ob*\\nject, whether celestial, or from what other region. By\\nits aid, in all the subsequent relations betwixt him and\\nMr. Dimmesdale, not merely the external presence, but\\nthe very inmost soul, of the latter, seemed to be brought\\nout before his eyes, so that he could see and comprehend\\nits every movement. He became, thenceforth, not a\\nspectator only, but a chief actor, in the poor minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\ninterior world. He could play upon him as he chose.\\nWould he arouse him with a throb of agony The vic-\\ntim was forever on the rack it needed only to know the\\nspring that controlled the engine and the physician\\nknew it well Would he startle him with sudden fear?\\nAs at the waving of a magician\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wand, uprose a grisly\\nphantom, uprose a thousand phantoms, in many\\nshapes, of death, or more awful shame, all flocking round\\nabout the clergyman, and pointing with their fingers at\\nhis breast\\nAll this was accomplished with a subtlety so perfect,\\nthat the minister, though he had constantly a dim per-\\nception of some evil influence watching over him, could\\nnever gain a knowledge of its actual nature. True, lie\\nlooked doubtfully, fearfully, even, at times, with hor-\\nror and ths bitterness of hatred, at the deformed figure\\nof the old physician. His gestures, his gait, his grizzled\\nbeard, his slightest and most indifferent acts, the very\\nfashion of his garments, were odious in the clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nsight; a token implicitly to be relied on, of a deeper an-\\ntipathy in the breast of the latter than he was willing to\\nacknowledge to himself. For, as it was impossible to\\nassign a reason for such distrust and abhorrence, so Mr", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "THE INTERIOR OF A HEART.\\n163\\nDimmesdale, conscious that the poison of one morbid\\nspot was infecting his heart\u00e2\u0080\u0099s entire substance, attributed\\nall his presentiments to no other cause. He took him-\\nself to task for his bad s^unpathies in reference to Roger\\nChill ingworth, disregarded the lesson that he should\\nhave drawn from them, and did his best to root them out.\\nUnable to accomplish this, he nevertheless, as a matter\\nof principle, continued his habits of social familiarity\\nwith the old man, and thus gave him constant opportu-\\nnities for perfecting the purpose to which poor, for-\\nlorn creature that he was, and more wretched than his\\nvictim the avenger had devoted himself.\\nWhile thus suffering under bodily disease, and gnawed\\nand tortured by some black trouble of the soul, and given\\nover to the machinations of his deadliest enemy, the\\nReverend Mr. Dimmesdale had achieved a brilliant pop-\\nularity in his sacred office. He won it, indeed, in great\\npart, by his sorrows. His intellectual gifts, his moral\\nperceptions, his power of experiencing and communi-\\ncating emotion, were kept in a state of preternatural activ-\\nity by the prick and anguish of his daily life. His fame,\\nthough still on its upward slope, already overshadowed\\ndie soberer reputations of his fellow-clergymen, eminent\\nas several of them were. There were scholars among\\nthem, who had spent mor6 years in acquiring abstruse\\nlore, connected with the divine profession, than Mr. Dim-\\nmesdale had lived and who might well, therefore, be\\nmore profoundly versed in such solid and valuable at-\\ntainments than their youthful brother. There were ~xt*n,\\ntoo, of a sturdier texture of mind than his, and endowed\\nwith a lar greater share of shrewd, hard, iron, or granite\\nunderstanding which, duly mingled with a fair proper", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "Ib4\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\ntion of doctrinal ingredient, constitutes a highly respect\\nable, efficacious, and unamiable variety of the clerical\\nspecies. There were others, again, true saintly fathers,\\nwhose faculties had been elaborated by weary toil among\\ntheir books, and by patient thought, and etherealized,\\nmoreover, by spiritual communications with the better\\nworld, into which their purity of life had almost intio-\\nduced these holy personages, with their garments of mor-\\ntality still clinging to them. All that they lacked was\\nthe gift that descended upon the chosen disciples at Pen-\\ntecost, in tongues of flame; symbolizing, it would seem,\\nnot the power of speech in foreign and unknown lan-\\nguages, but that of addressing the whole human brother-\\nhood in the heart\u00e2\u0080\u0099s native language. These fathers, oth-\\nerwise so apostolic, lacked Heaven\u00e2\u0080\u0099s last and rarest\\nattestation of their office, the Tongue of Flame. They\\nwould have vainly sought had they ever dreamed of\\nseeking to express the highest truths through the hum-\\nblest medium of familiar words and images. Their\\nvoices came down, afar and indistinctly, from the upper\\nheights where they habitually dwelt.\\nNot improbably, it was to this latter class of men that\\nMr. Dimmesdale, by many of his traits of character,\\nnaturally belonged. To the high mountain-peaks of\\nfaith and sanctity he would have climbed, had not the\\ntendency been thwarted by the burden, whatever it\\nmight be, of crime or anguish, beneath which it was his\\ndoom to totter. It kept him down, on a level with the\\nlowest; him, the man of ethereal attributes, whose\\nvoice the angels might else have listened to and an-\\nswered But this very burden it was, that gave him\\nsympathies so intimate with the sinful brotherhood of", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "THE INTERIOR OF A HEART.\\n16 ft\\nmankind so that his heart vibrated in unison with\\ntheirs, and received their pain into itself, and sent its\\nown throb of pain through a thousand other hearts, in\\ngushes of sad, persuasive eloquence, Oftenest persua-\\nsive, but sometimes terrible The people knew not the\\npower that moved them thus. They deemed the young\\nclergyman a miracle of holiness. They fancied him the\\nmouth-piece of Heaven\u00e2\u0080\u0099s messages of wisdom, and re-\\nbuke, and love. In their eyes, the very ground on which\\nhe trod was sanctified. The virgins of his church grew\\npale around him, victims of a passion so imbued with\\nreligious sentiment that they imagined it to be all re-\\nligion, and brought it openly, in their white bosoms, as\\ntheir most acceptable sacrifice before the altar. The\\naged members of his flock, beholding Mr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nframe so feeble, while they were themselves so rugged in\\ntheir infirmity, believed that he would go heavenward\\nbefore them, and enjoined it upon their children, that\\ntheir old bones should be buried close to their young pas-\\ntor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s holy grave. And, all this time, perchance, when\\npoor Mr. Dimmesdale was thinking of his grave, he\\nquestioned with himself whether the grass would ever\\ngrow on it, because an accursed thing must there be\\nburied\\nIt is inconceivable, the agony with which this public\\nveneration tortured him It was his genuine impulse to\\nadore the truth, and to reckon all things shadow-like,\\nand utterly devoid of weight or value, that had not its\\ndivine essence as the life within their life. Then, what\\nwas he a substance or the dimmest of all shad-\\nows He longed to speak out, from his own pulpit, at\\nthe full height of his voice, and tell the people what he", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "106 THE SCARLET LETTER.\\nwas. I, whom you behold in these black garments of\\nthe priesthood, I, who ascend the sacred desk, and\\nturn my pale face heavenward, taking upon myself to\\nhold communion, in your behalf, with the Most High\\nOmniscience, I, in whose daily life you discern the\\nsanctity of Enoch, I, whose footsteps, as you suppose,\\nleave a gleam along my earthly track, whereby the pil-\\ngrims that shall come after me may be guided to the\\nregions of the blest, I, who have laid the hand of bap-\\ntism upon your children, I, who have breathed the\\nparting prayer over your dying friends, to whom the\\nAmen sounded faintly from a world which they had\\nquitted, I, your pastor, whom you so reverence and\\ntrust, am utterly a pollution and a lie\\nMore than once, Mr. Dimmesdale had gone into the\\npulpit, with a purpose never to come down its steps, until\\nhe should have spoken words like the above. More than\\nonce, he had cleared his throat, and drawn in the long,\\ndeep, and tremulous breath, which, when sent forth again,\\nwould come burdened with the black secret of his soul.\\nMore than once nay, more than a hundred times\\nhe had actually spoken Spoken But how He had\\ntold his hearers that he was altogether vile, a viler com-\\npanion of the vilest, the worst of sinners, an abomina-\\ntion, a thing of unimaginable iniquity and that the only\\nwonder was, that they did not see his wretched body\\nshrivelled up before their eyes, by the burning wrath of\\nthe Almighty Could there be plainer speech than this\\nWould not the people start up in their seats, bra simul-\\ntaneous impulse, and tear him down out of t\\\\e pulpit\\nwhich he defiled Not so, indeed They heard it\\nall, and did but reverence him the more. They little", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "THB INTERIOR OF A HEART.\\n167\\ngueysed what deadly purport lurked in those self-con-\\ndemning words. The godly youth said they among\\nthemselves. The saint on earth Alas, if he discern\\nsuch sinfulness in his own white soul, what horrid spec-\\ntacle would he behold in thine or mine The minister\\nwell knew subtle, but remorseful hypocrite that lie\\nwas the light in which his vague confession would\\nbe viewed. He had striven to put a cheat upon himself\\nby making the avowal of a guilty conscience, but had\\ngained only one other sin, and a self-acknowledged\\nshame, without the momentary relief of being self-de-\\nceived. He had spoken the very truth, and transformed\\nit into the veriest falsehood. And yet, by the constitu-\\ntion of his nature, he loved the truth, and loathed the\\nlie, as few men ever did. Therefore, above all things\\nelse, he loathed his miserable self!\\nHis inward trouble drove him to practices more in\\naccordance with the old, corrupted faith of Rome, than\\nwith the better light of the church in which he had been\\nbom and bred. In Mr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s secret closet, under\\nlock and key, there was a bloody scourge. Oftentimes,\\nthis Protestant and Puritan divine had plied it on his\\nown shoulders laughing bitterly at himself the while,\\nand smiting so much the more pitilessly because of that\\nbitter laugh. It was his custom, too, as it has been that\\nof many other pious Puritans, to fast, not, however,\\nlike them, in order to purify the body and render it the\\ntitter medium of celestial illumination, but rigorously,\\nand until his knees trembled beneath him, as an act cf\\npenance. He kept vigils, likewise, night after night,\\nsometimes in utter darkness sometimes with a glim-\\nmering lamp and sometimes, viewing his own face in o", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "168\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nlooking-glass, by the most powerful light which he could\\nthrow upon it. He thus typified the constant intro-\\nspection wherewith he tortured, but could not purify,\\nhimself. In these lengthened vigils, his brain often\\nreeled, and visions seemed to flit before him perhaps\\nseen doubtfully, and by a faint light of their own, in the\\nremote dimness of the chamber, or more vividly, and\\nclose beside him, within the looking-glass. Now it was\\na herd of diabolic shapes, that grinned and mocked at\\nthe pale minister, and beckoned him away with them\\nnow a group of shining angels, who flew upward heavily,\\nas sorrow-laden, but grew more ethereal as they rose.\\nNow came the dead friends of his youth, and his white-\\nbearded father, with a saint-like frown, and his mother,\\nturning her face away as she passed by. Ghost of a\\nmother, thinnest fantasy of a mother, methinks she\\nmight yet have thrown a pitying glance towards her son\\nAnd now, through the chamber which these spectral\\nthoughts had made so ghastly, glided Hester Prynne,\\nleading along little Pearl, in her scarlet garb, and point-\\ning her forefinger, first at the scarlet lettej on her bosom,\\nand then at the clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own breast.\\nNone of these visions ever quite deluded him. At any\\nmoment, by an effort of his will, he could discern sub-\\nstances through their misty lack of substance, and con-\\nvince himself that they were not solid in their nature,\\nlike yonder table of carved oak, or that big, square,\\nleathern-bound and brazen-clasped volume of divinity.\\nBut, for all that, they were, in one sense, the truest and\\nmost substantial things which the poor minister now\\ndealt with. It is the unspeakable misery of a life so\\nfalse as his, that it steals the pith and substance out of", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "TflE INTERIOR OF A HR^RT. lt 9\\nwhatever realities there are around us, and which were\\nmeant by Heaven to be the spirit\u00e2\u0080\u0099s joy and nutriment.\\nTo the untrue man, the whole universe is false, it is\\nimpalpable, it shrinks to nothing within his grasp.\\nAnd he himself, in so far as he shows himself in a false\\nlight, becomes a shadow, or, indeed, ceases to exist. The\\nonly truth that continued to give Mr. Dimmesdale a rea\\nexistence on this earth, was the anguish in his inmost\\nsoul, and the undissembled expression of it in his aspect.\\nHad he once found power to smile, and wear a face of\\ngayety, there would have been no such man\\nOn one of those ugly nights, which we have faintly\\nhinted at, but forborne to picture forth, the ministei\\nstarted from his chair. A new thought had struck him.\\nThere might be a moment\u00e2\u0080\u0099s peace in it. Attiring him-\\nself with as much care as if it had been for public wor-\\nship, and precisely in the same manner, he stole softly\\ndown the staircase, undid the door, a nd issued forth.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "\u00e2\u0080\u009970\\nTHE SCAT! LET LETTER\\nXII.\\nTHE MINISTER\u00e2\u0080\u0099S VIGIL.\\nWai iing in the shadow of a dream, as it were, and\\nperhaps actually under the influence of a species of som\u00c2\u00ab\\nnambulism, Mr. Dimmesdale reached the spot, where,\\nnew so mng since, Hester Prynne had lived through, her\\nfirst hours of public ignominy. The same platform 01\\nscaffold, black and weather-stained with the storm or\\nsunshine of seven long years, and foot-worn, too, with\\nthe tread of many culprits who had since ascended it,\\nremained standing beneath the balcony of the meeting-\\nhouse. The minister went up the steps.\\nIt was an obscure night of early May. An unvaried\\npall of cloud muffled the whole expanse of sky from\\nzenith to horizon. If the same multitude which had\\nstood as eye-witnesses while Hester Prynne sustained\\nher punishment could now have been summoned forth,\\nthey would have discerned no face above the platform,\\nnor hardly the outline of a human shape, in the dark\\ngray of the midnight. But the town was all asleep.\\nThere was no peril of discovery. The minister might\\nstand there, if it so pleased him, until mtming should\\nredden in the east, without other risk than that the dank\\nand chill night-air would creep into his frame, and stiffen\\nhis joints with rheumatism, and clog his throat with\\ncatarrh and cough; thereby defrauding the expectant\\naudience of to-morrow\u00e2\u0080\u0099s prayer and sermon. No eye\\ncould see him, save that ever-wakeful one which had", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "mt minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s vigil.\\ni7I\\nsee/* hn/L in his closet, wielding the bloody scourge.\\nWh} then, had he come hither Was it but the mock-\\nery of penitence A mockery, indeed, but in which his\\nsoul trifled with itself! A mockery at which angels\\nblushed and wept, while fiends rejoiced, with jeering\\nlaughter He had been driven hither by the impulse of\\nthat Remorse which dogged him everywhere, and whose\\nown sister and closely linked companion was that Cow-\\nardice which invariably drew him back, with her tremu-\\nlous gripe, just when the other impulse had hurried him\\nto the verge of a disclosure. Poor, miserable man what\\nright had infirmity like his to burden itself with crime\\nCrime is for the iron-nerved, who have their choice either\\nto endure it, or, if it press too hard, to exert their fierce\\nand savage strength for a good purpose, and fling it off\\nat once This feeble and most sensitive of spirits could\\ndo neither, yet continually did one thing or another,\\nwhich intertwined, in the same inextricable knot, the\\nagony of heaven-defying guilt and vain repentance.\\nAnd thus, while standing on the scaffold, in this vain\\nshow of expiation, Mr. Dimmesdale was overcome with\\na great horror of mind, as if the universe were gazing at\\na scarlet token on his naked breast, right over his heart.\\nOn that spot, in very truth, there was, and there had\\nlong been, the gnawing and poisonous tooth of bodily\\npain. Without any effort of his will, or power to restrain\\nhimself, he shrieked aloud an outcry that went pealing\\nthrough the night, and was beaten back from one house\\nto another, and reverberated from the hills in the back-\\nground as if a company of devils, detecting so much\\nmisery and terror in it, had made a plaything of the\\nsound, and were bandying it to and fro.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "172\\nTIIE SCARLET LETTER.\\nIt is done muttered the minister, covering his face\\nwith his hands. The whole, town will awake, and\\nhurry forth, and find me here\\nBut it was not so. The shriek had perhaps sounded\\nwith a far greater power, to his own startled ears, than it\\nactually possessed. The town did not awake or, it it\\ndid, the drowsy slumberers mistook the cry either for\\nsomething frightful in a dream, or for the noise of witch\\nes whose voices, at that period, were often heard to pass\\nover the settlements or lonely cottages, as they rode with\\nSatan through the air. The clergyman, therefore, hear-\\ning no symptoms of disturbance, uncovered his eyes and\\nlooked about him. At one of the chamber- windows of\\nGovernor Bellingham\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mansion, which stood at some\\ndistance, on the line of another street, he beheld the ap-\\npearance of the old magistratf himself, with a lamp in\\nhis hand, a white night-cap or his head, and a long white\\ngown enveloping his figure. He looked like a ghost,\\nevoked unseasonably from the grave. The cry had evi\\ndently startled him. At another window of the same\\nhouse, moreover, appeared old Mistress Hibbins, the Gov-\\nernor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sister, also with a lamp, which, even thus far off,\\nrevealed the expression of her sour and discontented face.\\nShe thrust forth her head from the lattice, and looked\\nanxiously upward. Beyond the shadow of a doubt, this\\nvenerable witch-lady had heard Mr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s out\\ncry, and interpreted it, with its multitudinous echoes and\\nreverberations, as the clamor of the fiends and night-hags,\\nwith whom she was well known to make excursions into\\nthe forest.\\nDetecting the gleam of Governor Bellingham\u00e2\u0080\u0099s lamp\\nthe old lady quickly extinguished her own, and ranished", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "THE MINISTER\u00e2\u0080\u0099S VIGIL.\\n173\\nPossibly, she went up among the clouds. The niinistei\\nsaw nothing further of her motions. The magistrate\\nnfter a wary observation of the darkneiss into which,\\nnevertheless, he could see but little further than he might\\ninto a mill-stone retired from the window.\\nThe minister grew comparatively calm. His eyes,\\nhowever, were soon greeted by a little, glimmering light,\\nwhich, at first a long way off, was approaching up the\\nstreet. It threw a gleam of recognition on here a post,\\nand there a garden-fence, and here a latticed window-pane,\\nand there a pump, with its full trough of water, and here,\\nagain, an arched door of oak, with an iron knocker, and\\na rough log for the door-step. The Reverend Mr. Dim-\\nmesdale noted all these minute particulars, even while\\nfirmly convinced that the doom of his existence was steal-\\ning onward, Li the footsteps which he now heard and\\nthat the gleam of the lantern would fall upon him, in a\\nfew moments more, and reveal his long-hidden secret.\\nAs the light drew nearer, he beheld, within its illumin-\\nated circle, his brother clergyman, or, to speak more\\naccurately, his professional father, as well as highly val-\\nued friend, the Reverend Mr. Wilson who, as Mr.\\nDimmesdale now conjectured, had been praying at thn\\nbedside of some dying man. And so he had. The good\\nold minister came freshly from the death-chamber of\\nGovernor Winthrop, who had passed from earth to heaven\\nwithin that very hour. And now surrounded, like the\\nsaint-like personages of olden times, with a radiant halo,\\nthat glorified him amid this gloomy night of sin, as if\\nthe departed Governor had left him an inheritance of his\\nglory, or as if he had caught upon himself the distant\\ndime of the celestial city, while looking thitherward to", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "174\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nsee the triumphant pilgrim pass within its gates,- now,\\nin short, good Father Wilson was moving homeward,\\naiding his footsteps with a lighted lantern! The glim\\nmei of this luminary suggested the above conceits to Mr.\\nDimmesdale, who smiled, nay, almost laughed at them*\\nand then wondered if he were going mad.\\nAs the Reverend Mr. Wilson passed beside the scaf\\nfold, closely muffling his Geneva cloak about him with\\none arm, and h r-Uing the lantern before his breast with\\nthe other, the minister could hardly restrain himself from\\nspeaking.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cA good evening to you, venerable Father Wilson!\\nCome up hither, I pray you, and pass a pleasant houi\\nwith mo\\nGood heavens Had Mr. Dimmesdale actually spoken\\nFor one instant, he believed that these words had passed\\nhis lips. But they were uttered only within his imagin\\nation. The venerable Father Wilson continued to step\\nslowly onward, looking carefully at the muddy pathway\\nbefore his feet, and never once turning his head toward?\\nthe guilty platform. When the light of the glimmering\\nlantern had faded quite away, the minister discovered, by\\nthe faintness-which came over him, that the last few mo\\nments had been a crisis of terrible anxiety although hi?\\nmind had made an involuntary effort to relieve itself by\\na kind of lurid playfulness.\\nShortly afterwards, the like grisly sense of the humor\\nous again stole in among the solemn phantoms of hi?\\nthought. He felt his limbs growing stiff with the unac-\\ncustomed chilliness of the night, and doubted whether he\\nshould be able to descend the steps of the scaffold\\nMorning would break and find him there. The neigh-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "THE minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s vigh.\\n175\\nfvorhood would begin to rouse itself. The earliest riser,\\ncoming forth in the l im twilight, would perceive a vague*\\nly defined figure a on the place of shame and, half\\ncrazed be*w xt V n and curiosity, would go, knocking\\nfrom door to door, summoning all the people to behold\\nthe ghost as he needs must think it of some defunct\\ntransgressor. A dusky tumult would flap its wings from\\none house to another. Then the morning light still\\nwaxing stronger old patriarchs would rise up in great\\nhaste, each in his flannel gown, and matronly dames,\\nwithout pausing to put off their night-gear. The whole\\ntribe of decorous personages, who had never heretofore\\nbeen seen with a single hair of their heads awry, would\\nstart into public view, with the disorder of a nightmare\\nin their aspects. Old Governor Bellingham would come\\ngrimly forth, with his King James\u00e2\u0080\u0099 ruff fastened askew\\nand Mistress Hibbins, with some twigs of the forest cling-\\ning to her skirts, and looking sourer than ever, as having\\nhardly got a wink of sleep after her night ride and good\\nFather Wilson, too, after spending half the night at a\\ndeath-bed, and liking ill to be disturbed, thus early, out\\nof his dreams about the glorified saints. Hither, like-\\nwise, would come the elders and deacons of Mr. Dimmes-\\ndale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s church, and the young r irgins who so idolized their\\nminister, and had made a shrine for him in their white\\nbosoms which now, by the by, in their hurry and con-\\nfusion, they would scantly have given themselves time\\nto cover with their kerchiefs. All people, in a word,\\nwould come stumbling over their thresholds, and turning\\nup their amazed and horror-stricken visages around the\\nscaffold. Whom would they discern th^e, with the red\\neastern light upon his brow Whom, but the Baverend", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "176\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nArthur Dimmesdale, half frozen to death, overwhelmed\\nwith shame, and standing where Hester Prynne had\\nstood\\nCarried away by the grotesque horror of this picture,\\nthe minister, unawares, and to his own infinite alarm,\\nburst into a great peal of laughter. It was immediately\\nresponded to by a light, airy, childish laugh, in which\\nwith a thrill of the heart, but he knew not whether of\\nexquisite pain, or pleasure as acute, he recognized the\\ntones of little Pearl.\\nPearl Little Pearl cried he, after a moment\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\npause then, suppressing his voice, Hester Hester\\nPrynne Are you there\\nYes it is Hester Prynne she replied, in a tone of\\nsurprise and the minister heard her footsteps approach-\\ning from the sidewalk, along which she had been passing.\\nIt is I, and my little Pearl.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhence come you, Hester?\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked the minister\\nWhat sent you hither\\nI have been watching at a death-bed,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hes-\\nter Prynne \u00e2\u0080\u009cat Governor Winthrop\u00e2\u0080\u0099s death-bed, and\\nhave taken his measure for a robe, and am now going\\nhomeward to my dwelling.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nCome up hither, Hester, thou and little Pearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said\\nthe Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale. \u00e2\u0080\u009cYe have both been\\nhere before, but I was not with you. Come up hither\\nonce again, and we will stand all three together\\nShe silently ascended the steps, and stood on the plat-\\nform, holding little Pearl by the hand. The minister felt\\nfor the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s other hand, and took it. The moment\\nthat he did so, there came what seemed a tumultuous\\nrush of new life, other life than his own, pouring like n", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "TIIE MINISTER\u00e2\u0080\u0099S VIGIL.\\nin\\nlorrent into his heart, and hurrying through all his\\nveins, as if the mother and the child were communi-\\ncating their vital warmth to his half-torpid system. The\\nthree formed an electric chain.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cMinister!\u00e2\u0080\u009d whispered little Pearl.\\nWhat wouldst thou say, child asked Mr. Dira*\\nmesdale.\\nWilt thou stand here with mother and me, to-mor-\\nrow noontide inquired Pearl.\\nNay not so, my little Pearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the minis-\\nter for, with the new energy of the moment, all the\\ndread of public exposure, that had so long been the\\nanguish of his life, had returned upon him and he was\\nalready trembling at the conjunction in which with a\\nstrange joy, nevertheless he now found himself. Not\\nso, my child. I shall, indeed, stand with thy mother\\nand thee one other day, but not to-morrow.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPearl laughed, and attempted to pull away her hand.\\nBut the minister held it fast.\\nA moment longer, my child said he.\\nBut wilt thou promise,\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked Pearl, to take my\\nhand, and mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hand, to-morrow noontide\\nNot then, Pearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the minister, but another\\ntime.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd what other time persisted the child,\\nAt the great judgment day,\u00e2\u0080\u009d whispered the minis-\\nter, and, strangely enough, the sense that he was a\\nprofessional teacher of the truth impelled him to answer\\nthe child so. Then, and there, before the judgment-\\nseat, thy mother, and thou, and I, must stand together,\\nBut the daylight of this world shall not see our meet\\ning\\n12", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "178\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nPear laughed again.\\nBut, before Mr. Dimmesdale had done speaking, f,\\nlight gleamed far and wide over all the muffled sky. It\\nwas doubtless caused by one of those meteors, which\\n(he night-watcher may so often observe burning out to\\nwaste, in the vacant regions of the atmosphere. So\\npowerful was its radiance, that it thoroughly illuminated\\nthe dense medium of cloud betwixt the sky and earth.\\nThe great vault brightened, like the dome of an im-\\nmense lamp. It showed the familiar scene of the\\nstreet, with the distinctness of mid-day, but also with\\nthe awfulness that is always imparted to familiar objects\\nby an unaccustomed light. The wooden houses, with\\ntheir jutting stories and quaint gable-peaks the door-\\nsteps and thresholds, with the early grass springing up\\nabout them the garden-plots, black with freshly turned\\nearth the wheel-track, little worn, and, even in the\\nmarket-place, margined with green on either side\\nall were visible, but with a singularity of aspect that\\nseemed to give another moral interpretation to the things\\nof this world than they had ever borne before. And there\\nstood the minister, with his handover his heart; and\\nHester Prynne, with the embroidered letter glimmering\\non her bosom and little Pearl, herself a symbol, and\\nthe connecting link between those two. They stood in\\nthe noon of that strange and solemn splendor, as if it\\nwere the light that is to reveal all secrets, and the day\\noreak that shall unite all who belong to one another.\\nThere was witchcraft in little Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eyes and her\\niace, as she glanced upward at the minister, wore that\\nnaughty smile which made its expression frequently so\\nekvsh. She withdrew her hand from Ml Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "JHE MINISTER\u00e2\u0080\u0099S VIGIL.\\n179\\nand pointed acioss the street. But he clasped both his\\nhands over his breast, and cast his eyes towards the\\nzenith.\\nNothing was more common, in those days, than to\\ninterpret all meteoric appearances, and other natural\\nphenomena, that occurred with less regularity than the\\nrise and set of sun and moon, as so many revelations\\nfrom a supernatural source. Thus, a blazing spear, a\\nsword of flame, a bow, or a sheaf of arrows, seen in the\\nmidnight sky, prefigured Indian warfare. Pestilence\\nwas known to have been foreboded by a shower of\\ncrimson light. We doubt whether any marked event,\\nfor good or evil, ever befell New England, from its set-\\ntlement down to Revolutionary times, of which the in-\\nhabitants had not been previously warned by some spec-\\ntacle of this nature. Not seldom, it had been seen by\\nmultitudes. Oftener, however, its credibility rested on\\nthe faith of some lonely eye-witness, who beheld the\\nwonder through the colored, magnifying, and distorting\\nmedium of his imagination, and shaped it more distinctly\\nin his after-thought. It was, indeed, a majestic idea,\\nthat the destiny of nations should be revealed, in these\\nawful hieroglyphics, on the cope of heaven. A scroll so\\nwide might not be deemed too expansive for Provi-\\ndence to write a people\u00e2\u0080\u0099s doom upon. The belief was a\\nfavorite one with our forefathers, as betokening that\\ntheir infant commonwealth was under a celestial guar-\\ndianship of peculiar intimacy and strictness. But what\\nshall we say. when an individual discovers a revelation\\naddressed to himself alone, on the same vast sheet of\\nleccrd In such a case, it could only be the symptom\\nof a highly disordered mental state, when a man, ren", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "180\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\ndered morbidly self-contemplative by long, intense, ana\\nsecret pain, had extended his egotism over the whole\\nexpanse of nature, until the firmament itself should ajj-\\npear no more than a fitting page for his soul\u00e2\u0080\u0099s history and\\nfate\\nWe impute it, therefore, solely to the disease in hia\\nown eye and heart, that the minister, looking upward\\nto the zenith, beheld there the appearance of an im-\\nmense letter, the letter A, marked out in lines of\\ndull red light. Not but the meteor may have shown\\nitself at that point, burning duskily through a veil of\\ncloud but with no such shape as his guilty imagina-\\ntion gave it or, at least, with so little definiteness, that\\nanother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s guilt might have seen another symbol in it.\\nThere was a singular circumstance that characterized\\nMr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s psychological state, at this moment.\\nAll the time that he gazed upward to the zenith, he\\nwas, nevertheless, perfectly aware that little Pearl was\\npointing her finger towards old Roger Chillingvvorth,\\nwho stood at no great distance, from the scaffold. The\\nminister appeared to see him, with the same glance that\\ndiscerned the miraculous letter. To his features, as to\\nall other objects, the meteoric light imparted a new ex-\\npression or it might well be that the physician was not\\ncareful then, as at all other times, to hide the malevolence\\nwith which he looked upon his victim. Certainly, if the\\nmeteor kindled up the sky, and disclosed the earth, with\\nan awfulness that admonished Hester Prynne and the\\nclergyman of the day of judgment, then might Roger\\nChillingworth have passed with them for the arch-fiend,\\nstanding there with a smile and scowl, to claim his own.\\n3o vivid was the express io i, or so intense the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "THE MINISTER\u00e2\u0080\u0099S VIGIL.\\n181\\nperception of it, that it seemed still to remain painted on\\nthe darkness, after the meteor had vanished, with an\\neffect as if the street and all things else were at once\\nannihilated.\\nWho is that man, Hester gasped Mr. Dimmes-\\ndale, overcome with terror. 1 shiver at him Dost\\nthou know the man I hate him, Hester\\nShe remembered her oath, and was silent.\\nI tell thee, my soul shivers at him muttered the\\nminister again. Who is he Who is he Canst\\nthou do nothing for me I have a nameless horror of\\nthe man\\nMinister,\u00e2\u0080\u0099\u00e2\u0080\u0099 said little Pearl, I can tell thee who he\\nis\\nQuickly, then, child said the minister, bending\\nhis ear close to her lips. Quickly and as low as\\nthou canst whisper.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPearl mumbled something into his ear, that sounded,\\nindeed, like human language, but was only such gibber-\\nish as children may be heard amusing themselves with,\\nby the hour together. At all events, if it involved any\\nsecret information in regard to old Roger Chillingworth,\\nit was in a tongue unknown to the erudite clergyman,\\nand did but increase the bewilderment of his mind.\\nThe elvish child then laughed aloud.\\nDost thou mock me now said the minister.\\nThou wast not bold thou wast not true 99\\nanswered the child. \u00e2\u0080\u009cThou wouldst not promise to\\ntake my hand, and mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hand, to-morrow noon-\\ntide\\nWorthy Sir,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the physician, who had now\\nadvanced to the foot of the platfcnn. Tious Mastei", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "THE SCARLET LETTER.\\n182\\nDimmesdale can this be you Well, well, indeed\\nWe men of study, whose heads are in our books, have\\nneed to be straitly looked after! We dream in out\\nwaking moments, and walk in our sleep. Come, good\\nSir, and my dear friend, I pray you, let me lead you\\nvome\\nHow knewest thou that I was here asked the\\nminister, fearfully.\\nVerily, and in good faith,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Roger Chii-\\nlingworth, I knew nothing of the matter. I had spent\\nthe better part of the night at the bedside of the wor-\\nshipful Governor Winthrop, doing what my poor skill\\nmight to give him ease. He going home to a better\\nworld, I, likewise, was on my way homeward, when this\\nstrange light shone out. Come with me, I beseech you,\\nReverend Sir else you will be poorly able to do Sab-\\nbath duty to-morrow. Aha see now, how they trouble\\nthe brain, these books these books You should\\nstudy less, good Sir, and take a little pastime or these\\nnight-whimseys will grow upon you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI will go home with you,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Mr. Dimmesdale.\\nWith a chill despondency, like one awaking, all nerve-\\nless, from an ugly dream, he yielded himself to the phy-\\nsician, and was led away.\\nThe next day, however, being the Sabbath, he preached\\na discourse which was held to be the richest and most\\npowerful, and the most replete with heavenly intiuences,\\nthat had ever proceeded from his lips. Souls, it is said\\nmore souls than one, were brought to the truth by the\\nefficacy of that sermon, and vowed within themselves to\\ncherish a holy gratitude towards Mr. Dimmesdale through\\nout the long hereafter. But, as he came down the pu]", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "THE MINIS! KITS VIGIL.\\n183\\npit steps, the gray-bearded sexton met him, holding up a\\nblack glove, which the minister recognized as his own\\nIt was found,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the sexton, this morning, on\\nthe scaffold where evil-doers are set up to public shame.\\nSatan dropped it there, I take it, intending a scurrilous\\njest against your reverence. But, indeed, he was blind\\nand foolish, as he ever and always is. A pure hand\\nneeds no glove to cover it\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThank you, my good friend,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the minister,\\ngravely, but startled at heart for, so confused was his\\nremembrance, that he had almost brought himself to\\nJook at the events of the past night as visionary. Yes.\\nit seems to be my glove, indeed\\nAnd, since Satan saw fit to steal it, your reverence\\nmust needs handle him without gloves, henceforward,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nremarked the old sexton, grimly smiling. But did\\nyour reverence hear of the portent that was seen last\\nnight? a great red letter in the sky, the letter A,\\nwhich we interpret to stand for Angel. For, as our\\ngood Governor Winthrop was made an ange 1 this past\\nnight, it was doubtless held fit that there should be\\nseine notice thereof!\\nu No,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the minister, \u00e2\u0080\u009c1 had not heard\\nof it\u00e2\u0080\u009d", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "184\\nTHE SCARLET LETT UR.\\nXIII,\\nANOTHER VIEW OF HESTER.\\nIk her late singular interview with Mr. Dimmesdalc,\\nHester Prynne was shocked at the condition to which\\nshe found the clergyman reduced. His nerve seemed\\nabsolutely destroyed. His moral force was abased into\\nmore than childish weakness. It grovelled helpless on\\nthe ground, even while his intellectual faculties re-\\ntained their pristine strength, or had perhaps acquired\\na morbid energy, which disease only could have given\\nthem. With her knowledge of a train of circumstances\\nhidden from all others, she could readily infer that\\nbesides the legitimate action of his own conscience\\na terrible machinery had been brought to bear, and was\\nstill operating, on Mr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s well-being and\\nrepose. Knowing what this poor, fallen man had once\\nbeen, her whole soul was moved by the shuddering ter-\\nror with which he had appealed to her, the outcast\\nwoman, for support against his instinctively discov-\\nered enemy. She decided, moreover, that he had a\\nright to her utmost aid. Little accustomed, in her long\\nseclusion from society, to measure her ideas of right\\nand wrong by any standard external to herself, Hester\\nsaw or seemed to see that there lay a responsibility\\nupon her, in reference to the clergyman, which she owed\\nto no other, nor to the whole world besides. Tire links\\nthat united her to the rest of human kind links of\\nflowers, or silk, or gold, or whatever the material-\u00e2\u0080\u0094 had", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "another MEW of HESTER.\\nm\\nall been broken. Here was the iron link of mutual\\ncrime, which neither he nor she could break. Like all\\nother ties, it brought along -with it its obligations.\\nHester Prynne did not now occupy precisely the\\nsame position in which we beheld her during the earlier\\nperiods of her ignominy. Years had come and gone.\\nPearl was now seven years old. Her mother, with the\\nscarlet letter on her breast, glittering in its fantastic\\nembroidery, had long been a familiar object to the\\ntownspeople As is apt to be the case when a person\\nstands out in any prominence before the community,\\nand, at the same time, interferes neither with public nor\\nindividual interests and convenience, a species of gen-\\neral regard had ultimately grown up in reference to\\nHester Prynne. It is to the credit of human nature,\\nthat, except where its selfishness is brought into play,\\nit loves more readily than it hates. Hatred, by a grad-\\nual and quiet process, will even be transformed to love,\\nunless the change be impeded by a continually new\\nirritation of the original feeling of hostility. In this\\nmatter of Hester Prynne, there was neither irritation\\nnor irksomeness. She never battled with the public,\\nhut submitted, uncomplainingly, to its worst usage she\\nmade no claim upon it, in requital for wdiat she suf-\\nfered she did not weigh upon its sympathies. Then,\\nalso, the blameless purity of her life during all these\\nyears in which she had been set apart to infamy, was\\nreckoned largely in her favor. With nothing now to\\nlose, in the sight of mankind, and with no hope, and\\nseemingly no wish, of gaining anything, it could only\\nbe a genuine regard for virtue that had brought back\\nthe poor wanderer to its paths.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "Ib6 THE SCARLET LETTER.\\nIt was perceived, too, that while Hester never put\\nforward even the humblest title to share in the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nprivileges, further than to breathe the common air,\\nand earn daily bread for little Pearl and herself b) the\\nhithful labor of her hands, she was quick to acknowl-\\nedge her sisterhood with the race of man, whenever\\nbenefits were to be conferred. None so ready as she to\\ngive of her little substance to every demand of poverty;\\neven though the bitter-hearted pauper threw back a gibe\\nin requital of the food brought regularly to his door, or\\nthe garments wrought for him by the fingers that could\\nhave embroidered a monarch\u00e2\u0080\u0099s robe. None so self-\\ndevoted as Hester, when pestilence stalked through the\\ntown. In all seasons of calamity, indeed, whether\\ngeneral or of individuals, the outcast of society at once\\nfound her place. She came, not as a guest, but as a\\nrightful inmate, into the household that was darkened\\nby trouble as if its gloomy twilight were a medium in\\nwhich she was entitled to hold intercourse with her\\nfellow-creatures. There glimmered the embroidered\\nletter, with comfort in its unearthly ray. Elsewhere\\nthe token of sin, it was the taper of the sick-chamber.\\nIt had even thrown its gleam, in the sufferer\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hard ex-\\ntremity, across the verge of time. It had shown him\\nwhere to set his foot, while the light of earth was fast\\nbecoming lim, and ere the light of futurity could reach\\nhim. In such emergencies, Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s nature showed\\nitself warm and rich; a well-spring of human tender-\\nness, unfailing to every real demand, and inexhaustible\\nby the largest. Her breast, with its Dadge of shame,\\nwas but the softer pillow for the head that needed one,\\nShe was self-ordained a Sister of Mercy or, we maj", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "ANOTHER VIEW OF HESTER.\\n187\\nrather say, the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heavy hand hail so ordained her,\\nwhen neither the world nor she looked forward to this\\nresult. The letter was the symbol of her calling. Such\\nhelpfulness was found in her, so much power to do,\\nand power to sympathize, that many people refused\\nto interpret the scarlet A by its original signification.\\nThey said that it meant Able; so strong was Hester\\nPrynne, with a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s strength.\\nIt was only the darkened house that could contain\\nher. When sunshine came again, she was not there.\\nHer shadow had faded across the threshold. The help-\\nful inmate had departed, without one backward glance\\nto gather up the meed of gratitude, if any were in the\\nhearts of those whom she had served so zealously.\\nMeeting them in the street, she never raised her head\\nto receive their greeting. If they were resolute to\\naccost her, she laid her finger on the scarlet letter, and\\npassed on. This might be pride, but was so like hu-\\nmility, that it produced all the softening influence of\\nthe latter quality on the public mind. The public is\\ndespotic in its temper; it is capable of denying com-\\nmon justice, when too strenuously demanded as a right;\\nbut quite as frequently it awards more than justice,\\nwhen the appeal is made, as despots love to have it\\nmade, entirely to its generosity. Interpreting Hestei\\nPrynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s deportment as an appeal of this nature, society\\nwas inclined to show its former victim a more benign\\ncountenance than she cared to be favored with, or, per-\\nchance, than she deserved.\\nThe rulers, and the wise and learned men of the\\ncommunity, were longer in acknowledging the influ-\\nence of Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s good qualities than the people. The", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "188\\nTIIE SCARLET LETTER.\\nprejudices which they shared in common with the lattei\\nwere fortified in themselves by an iron framework of\\nreasoning, that made it a far tougher labor to expel\\nthem. Day by day, nevertheless, their sour and rigid\\nwrinkles were relaxing into something which, in the\\ndue course of years, might grow to be an expression of\\nalmost benevolence. Thus it was with the men of\\nrank, on whom their eminent position imposed the\\nguardianship of the public morals. Individuals in prh\\nvate life, meanwhile, had quite forgiven Hester Prynne\\nfor her frailty nay, more, they had begun to look upon\\nthe scarlet letter as the token, not of that one sin, for\\nwhich she had borne so long and dreary a penance,\\nbut of her many good deeds since. Do you see that\\nwoman with the embroidered badge they would say\\nto strangers. It is our Hester, the town\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own\\nHester, who is so kind to the poor, so helpful to the\\nsick, so comfortable to the afflicted Then, it is true,\\nthe propensity of human nature to tell the very worst\\nof itself, when embodied in the person of another, would\\nconstrain them to whisper the black scandal of bygone\\nyears. It was none the less a fact, however, that, in\\nthe eyes of the very men who spoke thus, the scarlet\\nletter had the effect of the cross on a nun\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom. It\\nimparted to the wearer a kind of sacredness, which\\nenabled her to walk securely amid all peril. Had she\\nfallen among thieves, it would have kept her safe. It\\nwas reported, and believed by many, that an Indian had\\ndrawn his arrow against the badge, and that the missile\\nstruck it, but fell harmless to the ground.\\nThe effect of the symbol or, rather, of the position\\nin respect to society that was indicated by it on the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "ANOTHER VIEW OF HESTER.\\n1S9\\nmind i f Hester Prynne herself, was powerful and pecu*\\nliar. All the light and graceful foliage of her charactei\\nhad been withered up by tlrs red-hot brand, and had\\niong ago fallen away, leaving a bare and harsh outline,\\nwhich might have been repulsive, had she possessed\\nfriendo or companions to be repelled by it. Even the\\nattractiveness of her person had undergone a similar\\nchange. It might be partly owing to the studied aus-\\nterity of her dress, and partly to the lack of demonstra-\\ntion in her manners. It was a sad transformation, too,\\nthat her rich and luxuriant hair had either been cut ofF,\\nor was so completely hidden by a cap, that not a shining\\nlock of it ever once gushed into the sunshine. It was\\ndue in part to all these causes, but still more to some-\\nthing else, that there seemed to be no longer anything\\nin Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face for Love to dwell upon; nothing in\\nHester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s form, though majestic and statue-like, that Pas-\\nsion would ever dream of clasping in its embrace noth-\\ning in Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom, to make it ever again the pillow\\nof Affection. Some attribute had departed from her, the\\npermanence of which had been essential to keep her a\\nwoman. Such is frequently the fate, and such the stern\\ndevelopment, of the feminine character and person, when\\nthe woman has encountered, and lived through, an ex-\\nperience of peculiar severity. If she be all tenderness,\\nshe will die. If she survive, the tenderness will e T thei\\nbe crushed out of her, or and the outward semblance\\nis the same crushed so deeply into her heart that\\nit can never show itself more. The latter is perhaps\\nthe truest theory. She who has once been, woman,\\nand ceased to be so, might at any moment become a\\nwoman again, if there were only the magic touch to", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "190\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\neffect the transfiguration. We shall see whether Ifestei\\nPrynne were ever afterwards so touched, and so trans\\nfigured.\\nMuch of the marble coldness of Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s impression\\nwas to be attributed to the circumstance, that her life\\nhad turned, in a great measure, from passion and feeling,\\nto thought. Standing alone in the world, alone, as to\\nany dependence on society, and with little Pearl to be\\nguided and protected, alone, and hopeless of retrieving\\nher position, even had she not scorned to consider it\\ndesirable, she cast away the fragments of a broken\\nchain. The world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s law was no law for her mind. It\\nwas an age in which the human intellect, newly eman-\\ncipated, had taken a more active and a wider range than\\nfor many centuries before. Men of the sword had over-\\nthrown nobles and kings. Men bolder than these had\\noverthrown and rearranged not actually, but within\\nthe sphere of theory, which was their most real abode\\nthe whole system of ancient prejudice, wherewith was\\nlinked much of ancient principle. Hester Prynne im-\\nbibed this spirit. She assumed a freedom of speculation,\\nthen common enough on the other side of the Atlantic,\\nbut which our forefathers, had they known it, would have\\nheld to be a deadlier crime than that stigmatized by the\\nscarlet letter. In her lonesome cottage, by the sea-shore,\\nthoughts visited her, such as dared to enter no other\\ndwelling in New England shadowy guests, that would\\nhave been as perilous as demons to their entertainer,\\ncould they have been seen so much af knocking at her\\ndoor.\\nIt is remarkable, that persons who speculate the most\\nboldly often conform with the most perfect quietude to", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "ANOTHER VIEW OF HESTER.\\n191\\nthe external regulations of society. The thought suffices\\nthem, without investing itself in the flesh and blood of\\naction. So it seemed to be with Hester. Yet, had little\\nPearl never come to her from the spiritual world, it might\\nhave been far otherwise. Then, she might have come\\ndown to us in history, hand in hand with Ann Hutchin-\\nson, as the foundress of a religious sect. She might,\\nin one of her phases, have been a prophetess. She\\nmight, and not improbably would, have suffered death,\\nfrom the stem tribunals of the period, for attempting to\\nundermine the foundations of the Puritan establishment.\\nBut, in the education of her child, the mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s enthusi-\\nasm of thought had something to wreak itself upon.\\nProvidence, in the person of this little girl, had assigned\\nto Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s charge the germ and blossom of womanhood,\\nto be cherished and developed amid a host of difficulties.\\nEverything was against her. The world was hostile.\\nThe child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own nature had something wrong in it,\\nwhich continually betokened that she had been bom\\namiss, the effluence of her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s lawless passion,\\nand often impelled Hester to ask, in bitterness of\\nheart, whether it were for ill or good that the poor little\\ncreature had been bom at all.\\nIndeed, the same dark question often rose into her\\nmind, with reference to the whole race of womanhood.\\nWas existence worth accepting, even to the happiest\\namong them As concerned her own individual exist-\\nence, she had long ago decided in the negative, and dis-\\nmissed the point as settled. A tendency to speculation,\\nthough it may keep woman quiet, as it does man, yet\\nmakes her sad She discerns, it may be, such a hope-\\ness task before her. As a first step, the whole system", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "92\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nof society is to be t irn down, and built up anew. Then,\\nthe very nature of the opposite sex, ov its long hereditary\\nhabit, which has become like nature, is to be- essentially\\nmodified, before woman can be allowed to assume what\\nseems a fair and suitable position. Finally, all other\\ndifficulties being obviated, woman cannot take advantage\\nof these preliminary reforms, until she herself shall have\\nundergone a still mightier change in which, perhaps\\nthe ethereal essence, wherein she has her truest life, will\\nbe found to have evaporated. A woman never overcomes\\nthese problems by any exercise of thought. They are\\nnot to be solved, or only in one way. If her heart chance\\nto come uppermost, they vanish. Thus, Hester Prynne,\\nwhose heart had lost its regular and healthy throb, wan-\\ndered without a clew in the dark labyrinth of mind; now\\nturned aside by an insurmountable precipice now start-\\ning back from a deep chasm. There was wild and\\nghastly scenery all around her, and a home comfort\\nnowhere. At times, a fearful doubt strove to possess her\\nsoul, whether it were not better to send Pearl at once to\\nheaven, and go herself to such futurity as Eternal Jus-\\ntice should provide.\\nThe scarlet letter had not done its office.\\nNow, however, her interview with the Reverend Mr.\\nDimmesdale, on the night of his vigil, had given her a\\nnew theme of reflection, and held up to her an object\\nthat appeared worthy of any exertion and sacrifice for its\\nattainment. She had witnessed the intense misery be-\\nneath which the minister struggled, or, to speak more\\naccurately, had ceased to struggle. She saw that he\\nstood on the verge of lunacy, if he had not already\\nstepped across it. It was impossible to doubt, that, what-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "ANOTHER VIEW OF HESTER.\\n19a\\never painful efficacy there might be in the secret sting\\nof remorse, a deadlier venom had been infused into it by\\nthe hand that proffered relief. A secret enemy had been\\ncontinually by his side, under the semblance of a friend\\nand helper, and had availed himself of the opportunities\\nthus afforded for tampering with the delicate springs of\\nMr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s nature. Hester could not but ask\\nherself, whether there had not originally been a defect\\nof truth, courage and loyalty, on her own part, in allow\\ning the minister to be thrown into a position where so\\nmuch evil was to be foreboded, and nothing auspicious to\\nbe hoped. Her only justification lay in the fact, that she\\nhad been able to discern no method of rescuing him from\\na blacker ruin than had overwhelmed herself, except by\\nacquiescing in .Roger Chillingworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s scheme of disguise.\\nUnder that impulse, she had made her choice, and had\\nchosen, as it now appeared, the more wretched alterna-\\ntive of the two. She determined to redeem her error,\\nso far as it might yet be possible. Strengthened by years\\nof hard and solemn trial, she felt herself no longer so\\ninadequate to cope with Roger Chillingworth as on that\\nnight, abased by sin, and half maddened by the igno-\\nminy that was still new, when they had talked together\\nin the prison-chamber. She had climbed her way,\\nsince then, to a higher point. The old man, on the\\nother hand, had brought himself nearer to her level, or\\nperhaps below it, by the revenge which he had stooped,\\nfor.\\nIn fine, Hester Prynne resolved to meet her former\\nhusband, and do what might be in her power for the\\nrescue of the victim on whom he had so evidently set\\nhis gripe. Tin occasion was not long to seek, toxie\\n13", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "194\\nHIE SCARLET LETTER.\\nafternoon, walking with Pearl in a retired part of the\\npeninsula, she beheld the old physician, with a basket\\non one arm, and a staff in the other hand, stooping along\\nthe ground, in quest of roots and herbs to concoct hia\\nmedicines withal.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "HESTER AND THE PHYSICIAN.\\nHIS\\nXIV.\\nHESTER AND THE PHYSICIAN.\\nHester bade little Pearl run down to the margin of\\nthe water, and play with the shells and tangled sea-\\nweed, until she should hare talked awhile with yonder\\ngatherer of herbs. So the child flew away like a\\nbird, and, making bare her small white feet, went pat-\\ntering along the moist margin of the sea. Here and\\nthere she came to a full stop, and peeped curiously\\ninto a pool, left by the retiring tide as a mirror for\\nPearl to see her face in. Forth peeped at her, out\\nof the pool, with dark, glistening curls around hei\\nHead, and an elf-smile in her eyes, the image of a\\nlittle maid, whom Pearl, having no other playmate,\\ninvited to take her hand, and run a race with her.\\nBut the visionary little maid, on her part, beckoned\\nlikewise, as if to say, \u00e2\u0080\u009cThis is a better place!\\nCome thou into the pool!\u00e2\u0080\u009d And Pearl, stepping in,\\nmid-leg deep, beheld her own white feet at the bottom\\nwhile, out of a still lower depth, came the gleam of a\\nkind of fragmentary smile, floating to and fro in the\\nagitated water.\\nMeanwhile, her mother had accosted the physician.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cI would speak a word with you,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, \u00e2\u0080\u009ca\\nword that concerns us much.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAlia! ana is it Mistress Hester that has a word\\nCor old Roger Chillingworth?\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered he, raising\\nhimself from his stooping posture. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWith all my", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "96 THE SCARLET LETTER.\\nheart Why, Mistress, I hear good tidings of yon\\non all hands No longer ago than yester-eve, a magis-\\ntrate, a wise and godly man, was discoursing of your\\naffairs, Mistress Hester, and whispered me that there\\nhad been question concerning you in the council\\nIt wus debated whether or no, with safety to the com-\\nmon weal, yonder scarlet letter might be taken off youi\\nbosom. On my life, Hester, I made my entreaty to the\\nworshipful magistrate that it might be done forth-\\nwith\\nIt lies not in the pleasure of the magistrates to take\\noff this badge,\u00e2\u0080\u009d calmly replied Hester. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWere I\\nworthy to be quit of it, it would fall away of its own\\nnature, or be transformed into something that should\\nspeak a different purport.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNay, then, wear it, if it suit you better,\u00e2\u0080\u009d rejoined\\nhe. \u00e2\u0080\u009cA woman must needs follow her own fancy,\\ntouching the adornment of her person. The letter is\\ngayly embroidered, and shows right bravely on your\\nbosom\\nAll this while, Hester had been looking steadily at\\nthe old man, and was shocked, as well as wonder-\\nsmitten, to discern what a change had been wrought\\nupon him within the past seven years. It was not so\\nmuch that he had grown older for though the traces of\\nadvancing life were visible, he bore his age well, and\\nseemed to retain a wiry vigor and alertness. But the\\nformer aspect of an intellectual and studious man. calm\\nand quiet, which was what she best remembered in\\nhim, had altogether vanished, and been succeeded\\nby an eager, searching, almost fierce, yet carefully\\nguarded look. It seemed tc be his wish and purpose ia", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "HESTER AND THE PHYSIC LIN.\\n197\\nmask this expression with a smile but the latter\\nplayed him false, and flickered over his visage so\\nderisively, that the spectator could see his blackness\\nall the better for it. Ever and anon, too, there came\\na glare of red light out of his eyes; as if the old\\nman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s soul were on fire, and kept on smouldering\\nuuskily within his breast, until, by some casual puff\\nof passion, it was blown into a momentary flame. This\\nhe repressed, as speedily as possible, and strove to look\\nas if nothing of the kind had happened.\\nIn a word, old Roger Chillingworth was a striking\\nevidence of man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s faculty of transforming himself into\\na devil, if he will only, for a reasonable space of\\ntime, undertake a devil\u00e2\u0080\u0099s office. This unhappy person\\nhad effected such a transformation, by devoting himself,\\nfor seven years, to the constant analysis of a heart full\\nof torture, and deriving his enjoyment thence, and\\nadding fuel to those fiery tortures which he analyzed\\nand gloated over.\\nThe scarlet letter burned on Hester Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom.\\nHere was another ruin, the responsibility of which came\\npartly home to her.\\nWhat see you in my face,\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked the physician,\\nthat you look at it so earnestly\\nSomething that would make me weep, if there were\\nany tears bitter enough for it,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered she. \u00e2\u0080\u009cBut\\nlet it pass It is of yonder miserable man that I won 1 1\\nspeak.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd what of him?\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried Roger Chillingworth,\\neagerly, as if he bved the topic, and were glad of an\\nopportunity to discuss it with the only person of whom\\nhe could make a confidant. Not to h de the tn**h,", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "198\\nTR.fi SCARLET LETTER.\\nMistress Hester, my thoughts happen just now to t*\\nbusy with the gentleman. So speak freely and I wil\u00e2\u0080\u0099\\nmake answer.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhen we last spake together,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester, now\\nseven years ago, it was your pleasure to extort a\\npromise of secrecy, as touching the former relation\\nbetwixt yourself and me. As the life and good fame\\nof yonder man were in your hands, there seemed no\\nchoice to me, save to be silent, in accordance with\\nyour behest. Yet it was not without heavy misgiv-\\nings that I thus bound myself; for, having cast off\\nall duty towards other human beings, there remained a\\nduty towards him; and something whispered me that\\nI was betraying it, in pledging myself to keep your\\ncounsel. Since that day, no man is so near to him\\nas you. You tread behind his every footstep. You\\nare beside him, sleeping and waking. You search\\nhis thoughts. You burrow and rankle in his heart\\nYour clutch is on his life, and you cause him to\\ndie daily a living death; and still he knows you\\nnot. In permitting this, I have surely acted a false\\npart by the only man to whom the power was left me\\nto be true\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhat choice had you?\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked Roger Chilling-\\nworth. My finger, pointed at this man, would ha e\\nhurled him from his pulpit into a dungeon, thence,\\nperad venture, to the gallows\\nIt had been better so said Hester Prynne.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhat evil have I done the man?\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked Roger\\nGhillingworth again. \u00e2\u0080\u009cI tell thee, Hester Prynne,\\nthe richest fee that ever physician earned from monarch\\ncould not have bought such care as I have wasted", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "HESTER ANP THE PHYSICIAN.\\n199\\non this miserable priest! But for my aid, his life\\nwould have burned away in torments, within the first\\ntwo years after the perpetration of his crime and\\nthine. For, Hester, his spirit lacked the strength that\\ncould have borne up, as thine has, beneath a burden like\\nthy scarlet letter. O, I could reveal a goodly secret\\nBut enough What art can do, I have exhausted on\\nhim. That he now breathes, and creeps about on earth,\\nis owing all to me!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nBetter he had died at once said Hester Prynne.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYea, woman, thou sayest truly! \u00e2\u0080\u0099\u00e2\u0080\u0099cried old Roger\\nChillingworth, letting the lurid fire of his heart blaze\\nout before her eyes. Better had he died at once\\nNever did mortal suffer what this man has suffered.\\nAnd all, all, in the sight of his worst enemy He\\nhas been conscious of me. He has felt an influence\\ndwelling always upon him like a curse. He knew,\\nby some spiritual sense, for the Creator never made\\nanother being so sensitive as this, he knew thai\\nno friendly hand was pulling at his heart-strings, and\\nthat an eye was looking curiously into him, which\\nsought only evil, and found it. But he knew not\\nthat the eye and hand were mine With the super-\\nstition common to his brotherhood, he fancied himself\\ngiven over to a fiend, to be tortured with frightful\\ndreams, and desperate thoughts, the sting of remorse,\\nand despair of pardon; as a foretaste of what awaits\\nhim beyond the grave. But it was the constant shadow\\nof my presence the closest propinquity of the man\\nwhom he had most vilely wronged and who ha*\\ngrown to exist only by this perpetual poison of the\\ndirest revenge! Ye a, indeed! he did not err!", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "200\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nthere was a fiend at his elbow A mortal man, with\\nonce a human heart, has become a fiend for his especial\\ntorment\\nThe unfortunate physician, while uttering these\\nwords, lifted his hands with a look of horror, as if he\\nhad beheld some frightful shape, which he could not\\nrecognize, usurping the place of his own image in a\\nglass. It was one of those moments which sometimes\\noccur only at the interval of years when a man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nmoral aspect is faithfully revealed to his mind\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eye.\\nNot improbably, he had never before viewed himself as\\nhe did now.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHast thou not tortured him enough?\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester,\\nnoticing the old man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s look. Has he not paid thee\\nall?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNo no He has but increased the debt\\nanswered the physician; and as he proceeded, his\\nmanner lost its fiercer characteristics, and subsided\\ninto gloom. Dost thou remember me, Hester, as 1\\nwas nine years agone Even then, I was in the\\nautumn of my days, nor was it the early autumn.\\nBut all my life had been made up of earnest, studious,\\nthoughtful, quiet years, bestowed faithfully for the in-\\ncrease of mine own knowledge, and faithfully, too,\\nthough this latter object was but casual to the other,\\nfaithfully for the advancement of human welfare.\\nNo life had been more peaceful and innocent than\\nmine few lives so rich with benefits conferred. Dost\\nthou remember me? Was I not, though you might\\ndeem me cold, nevertheless a man thoughtful for\\nothers, craving little for himself,- kind, true, just, and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "HESTER AND THE PHYSICIAN.\\n201\\nof constant, if not warm affections? Was I not all\\nthis?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAll this, and more,\u00e2\u0080\u009d raid Hester.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd what am I now?\u00e2\u0080\u009d demanded he, looking\\ninto her face, and permitting the whole evil within\\nhim to be written on his features. I have already\\ntold thee what I am A fiend Who made me\\nso\\nIt was myself cried Hester, shuddering. It was\\nl, not less than he. Why hast thou not avenged thyself\\non me\\nI have left thee to the scarlet letter,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied Roger\\nChillingworth. If that have not avenged me, I can do\\nno more\\nHe laid his finger on it, with a smile.\\nIt has avenged thee answered Hester Prynne.\\nI judged no less,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the physician. And now,\\nwhat wouldst thou with me touching this man?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI must reveal the secret,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hester, firmly.\\nHe must discern thee in thy true character. Whal\\nmay be the result, I know not. But this long debt\\nof confidence, due from me to him, whose bane and\\nruin .1 have been, shall at length be paid. So far\\nus concerns the overthrow or preservation of his fail\\nfame and his earthly state, and perchance his life\\nhe is in thy hands. Nor do I, whom the scarlet\\nletter has disciplined to truth, though it be the truth\\nof red-hot iron, entering into the soul, nor do I per-\\nceive such advantage in his living any longer a lif*.\\nof ghastly emptiness, that I shall stoop to implore thy\\nmercy. Do with him as thou wilt! There is ro goo^\\nfor him, no good for me, no good for thee 1 Ther\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "202\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nis no good for little Pearl There is no path to guide\\nus out of this dismal maze\\nWoman, I could well-nigh pity thee!\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Roger\\nChillingworth, unable to restrain a thrill of admiration\\ntoo; for there was a quality almost majestic in the\\ndespair which she expressed. Thou hadst great\\nelements. Peradventure, hadst thou met earlier with\\na better love than mine, this evil had not been. J i\\npity thee, for the good that has been wasted in thy\\nnature\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd I thee,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hester Prynne, \u00e2\u0080\u009cfor the\\nhatred that has transformed a wise and just man to\\na fiend! Wilt thou yet purge it out of thee, and be\\nonce more human? If not for his sake, then doubly\\nfor thine own! Forgive, and leave his further retribu-\\ntion to the Power that claims it! I said, but now,\\nthat there could be no good event for him, or thee,\\nor me, who are here wandering together in this gloomy\\nmaze of evil, and stumbling, at every step, over the\\nguilt wherewith we have strewn our path. It *s not so!\\nThere might be good for thee, and thee alone, since\\nthou hast been deeply wronged, and hast it at thy will to\\npardon. Wilt thou give up that oply privilege Wilt\\nthou reject that priceless bene fit J\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cPeace, Hester, peace!\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied the old man, with\\ngloomy sternness. \u00e2\u0080\u009cIt is not granted me to pardon.\\nI have no such power as thou tellest me of. My old\\nfaith, long forgotten, comes back to me, and explains all\\nchat we do, and all we suffer. By thy first step awry\\nthou didst plant the germ of evil but since that mo-\\nment, it has all been a dark necessity. Ye that have\\nwronged me are not sinful, save in a kind of typical illu\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "HE ST Jilt AND THE PHYSICIAN.\\n203\\neion neither am I fiend-like, who have snatched a\\nfiend\u00e2\u0080\u0099s office from his hands. It is our fate. Let the\\nblack flower blossom as it may Now go thy ways, and\\ndeal as thou wilt with yonder man.\u00e2\u0080\u0099^J\\nHe waived his hand, and betook himself again to hifl\\nemployment of gathering herbs.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "THE SCARLET JLETTSU.\\nXY.\\nHESTER AND PEARL.\\nSo Roger Chillingworth a deformed old figure,\\nwith a face that haunted men\u00e2\u0080\u0099s memories longer than\\nthey liked took leave of Hester Prynne, and went\\nstooping away along the earth. He gathered here and\\nthere an herb, or grubbed up a root, and put it into the\\nbasket on his arm. His gray beard almost touched the\\nground, as he crept onward. Hester gazed after him\\na little while, looking with a half fantastic curiosity to\\nsee whether the tender grass of early spring would not\\nbe blighted beneath him, and show the wavering track\\nof his footsteps, sere and brown, across its cheerful\\nverdure. She wondered what sort of herbs they were,\\nwhich the old man was so sedulous to gather. Would\\nnot the earth, quickened to an evil purpose by the sym-\\npathy of his eye, greet him with poisonous shrubs, of\\nspecies hitherto unknown, that would start up under his\\nfingers Or might it suffice him, that every wholesome\\ngrowth should be converted into something deleterious\\nand malignant at his touch Did the sun, which shone\\nso brightly everywhere else, really fall upon him Oi\\nwas there, as it rather seemed, a circle of ominous\\nshadow moving along with his deformity, whichever\\nway he turned himself? And whither was h^* now\\ngoing? Would lie not suddenly sink into the earth,\\nleaving a barren and blasted spot, where, in due course\\nof time, would be seen deadly nightshade, dogwoc.l heu", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "HESTER AND PEARL.\\nbanc: and whatever else of vegetable wickedness t\u00c2\u00abie cli\\nmate could produce, all flourishing with hideous luxu-\\nriance Or would he spread bat\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wings and flee away,\\nlooking so much the uglier, the higher he rose towards\\nheaven\\nBe it sin or no,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester Prynne, bitterly, as she\\nstill gazed after him, I hate the man\\nShe upbraided herself for the sentiment, but could not\\novercome or lessen it. Attempting to do so, she thought\\nof those long-past days, in a distant land, when he used\\nto emerge at eventide from the seclusion of his study\\nand sit down in the fire-light of their home, and in the\\nlight of her nuptial smile. He needed to bask himself\\nin that smile, he said, in order that the chill of so many\\nlonely hours among his books might be taken off the\\nscholar\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart. Such scenes had once appeared not other-\\nwise than happy, but now, as viewed through the dismal\\nmedium of her subsequent life, they classed themselves\\namong her ugliest remembrances. She marvelled how\\nsuch scenes could have been! She marvelled how she\\ncould ever have been wrought upon to marry him She\\ndeemed it her crime most to be repented of, that she had\\never endured, and reciprocated, the lukewarm grasp of\\nhis hand, and had suffered the smile of her lips and eyes\\nto mingle and melt into his own. And it seemed a foulei\\noffence committed by Eoger Chillingworth, than an}\\nwhich had since been done him, that, in the time wher\\nher heart knew no better, he had persuaded her to fancj\\nherself happy by his side.\\nYes, I hate him repeated Hester, more bitter!)\\nthan before. He betrayed me He has done me wore*\\nwrong than I did him", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "206\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nLet men tumble to win the hand of woman, urne-ss\\nthey win along with it the utmost passion of her heart\\nElse it may be their miserable fortune, as it was Roger\\nChillingworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, when some mightier touch than their\\nown may have awakened all her sensibilities, to be re-\\nproached even for the calm content, the marble image of\\nhappiness, which they will have imposed upon her as the\\nwarm reality. But Hester ought long ago to have done\\nwith this injustice. What did it betoken Had seven\\nlong years, under the torture of the scarlet letter, in-\\nflicted so much of misery, and wrought out no repent-\\nance\\nThe emotions of that brief space, while she stood gaz-\\ning after the crooked figure of old Roger Chillingwurth,\\nthrew a dark light on Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s state of mind, revealing\\nmuch that she might not otherwise have acknowledged\\nto herself.\\nHe being gone, she summoned back her child.\\nPearl Little Pearl Where are you\\nPearl, whose activity of spirit never flagged, had been\\nat no loss for amusement while her mother talked with\\nthe old gatherer of herbs. At first, as already told, she\\nhad flirted fancifully with her own image in a pool of\\nwater, beckoning the phantom forth, and as it declined\\nto venture seeking a passage for herself into its sphere\\nof impalpable earth and unattainable sky. Soon finding,\\nhowever, that either she or the image was unreal, she\\nturned elsewhere for better pastime. She made little\\nboats out of birch-bark, and freighted them with snail-\\nshells, and sent out more ventures on the mighty deep\\nthan any merchant in New England but the larger part\\nof them foundered near the shore. She seized a live", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "HESTKR AND PEARL.\\n201\\nhorse-shoe by the tail, and made prize of several five-\\nfingers, and laid out a jelly-fish to melt in the warm sun.\\nThen she took up the white foam, that streaked the line\\nof the advancing tide, and threw it upon the breeze,\\nscampering after it, with winged footsteps, to catch the\\ngreat snow-flakes ere they fell. Perceiving a flock of\\nbeach-birds, that fed and fluttered along the shore, the\\nnaughty child picked up her apron full of pebbles, and\\ncreeping from rock to rock after these small sea-fowl, dis\\nplayed remarkable dexterity in pelting them. One little\\ngray bird, with a white breast, Pearl was almost sure,\\nhad been hit by a pebble, and fluttered away with a\\nbroken wing. But then the elf-child sighed, and gave\\nup her sport because it grieved her to have done harm\\nto a little being that was as wild as the sea-breeze, or as\\nwild as Pearl herself.\\nHer final employment was to gather sea-weed, of\\nvarious kinds, and make herself a scarf, or mantle, and\\na head-dress, and thus assume the aspect of a little mer-\\nmaid. She inherited her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gift for devising drapery\\nand costume. As the last touch to her mermaid\u00e2\u0080\u0099s garb,\\nPearl took some eel-grass, and imitated, as best she could,\\non her own bosom, the decoration with which she was so\\nfamiliar on her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s. A letter, the letter A, but\\nfreshly green, instead of scarlet! The child bent her\\nchin upon her breast, and contemplated this device with\\nstrange interest even as if the one only thing for which\\nshe had been sent into the world was to make out its\\nhidden import.\\nI wonder if mother will asir me what it means\\nthought Pearl.\\nJust then, she heard her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice, and flitting", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "208\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nalong as lightly as one of the little sea-birds, appea ed\\nbefore Hester Prynne, dancing, laughing, and pointing\\nher finger to the ornament upon her bosom.\\nMy little Pearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester, after a moment\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nsilence, \u00e2\u0080\u009cthe green letter, and on thy childish bosom, has\\nno purport. But dost thou know, my child, what this\\nletter means which thy mother is doomed to wear\\nYes, mother,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the child. It is the great letter\\nA. Thou hast taught me in the horn-book.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHester looked steadily into her little face but, though\\nthere was that singular expression which she had so often\\nremarked in her black eyes, she could not satisfy herself\\nwhether Pearl really attached any meaning to the symbol.\\nShe felt a morbid desire to ascertain the point.\\nDost thou know, child, wherefore thy mother wears\\nthis letter\\nTruly do I answered Pearl, looking brightly into\\nher mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face. \u00e2\u0080\u009cIt is for the same reason that the\\nminister keeps his hand over his heart\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd what reason is that? asked Hester, half smil-\\ning at the absurd incongruity of the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s observation\\nbut, on second thoughts, turning pale. What has the\\nletter to do with any heart, save mine\\nNay, mother, I have told all I know,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Pearl,\\nmore seriously than she was wont to speak. Ask yon-\\nder old man whom thou hast been talking with It may\\nbe he can tell. But in good earnest now, mother dear, what\\ndoes this scarlet letter mean and why dost thou wear\\nit on thy bosom and why does the minister keep his\\nhand over his heart\\nShe took her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hand in both her own, and\\ngazed into her eyes with an earnestness that was seldom", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "HESTER AND PEARL.\\n209\\nseen in her wild and capricious character. The thought\\noccurred to Hester, that the child might really be seeking\\nto approach her with child-like confidence, and doing\\nwha t she could, and as intelligently as she knew how, to\\nestablish a meeting-point of sympathy. It showed Pearl\\nin an unwonted aspect. Heretofore, the mother, while\\nloving her child with the intensity of a sole affection, had\\nschooled herself to hope for little other return than the\\nwaywardness of an April breeze which spends its time\\nin airy sport, and has its gusts of inexplicable passion, and\\nis petulant in its best of moods, and chills oftener than\\ncaresses you, when you take it to your bosom in requital\\nof which misdemeanors, it will sometimes, of its own\\nvague purpose, kiss your cheek with a kind of doubtful\\ntenderness, and play gently with your hair, and then\\nbegone about its other idle business, leaving a dreamy\\npleasure at your heart. And this, moreover, was a moth-\\ner\u00e2\u0080\u0099s estimate of the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s disposition. Any other ob-\\nserver might have seen few but unamiable traits, and have\\ngiven them a far darker coloring. But now the idea\\ncame strongly into Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mind, that Pearl, with her\\nremarkable precocity and acuteness, might already have\\napproached the age when she could be made a friend,\\nand intrusted with as much of her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sorrows as\\ncould be imparted, without irreverence either to the parent\\nor the child. In the little chaos of Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character,\\nthere might be seen emerging and could have been,\\nfrom the very first the steadfast principles of an un-\\nflinching courage, an uncontrollable will, a sturdy\\npride, which might be disciplined into self-respect, and\\na bitter scorn of many things, which, when examined,\\nmight be found to have the taint of falsehood in them,\\n14", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "210\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nShe possessed affections, too, though hitherto acrid and\\ndisagreeable, as are the richest flavors of unripe fruit.\\nWith all these sterling attributes, thought Hester, the\\nevil which she inherited from her mother must be great\\nindeed, if a noble woman do not grow out of this elfish\\nchild.\\nPearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s inevitable tendency to hover about the enigma\\nof the scarlet letter seemed an innate quality of her\\nbeing. From the earliest epoch of her conscious life, she\\nhad entered upon this as her appointed mission. Hester\\nhad often fancied that Providence had a design of justice\\nand retribution, in endowing the child with this marked\\npropensity but never, until now, had she bethought her-\\nself to ask, whether, linked with that design, there might\\nnot likewise be a purpose of mercy and beneficence. If\\nlittle Pearl were entertained w ith faith and trust, as a\\nspirit messenger no less than an earthly child, might it\\nnot be her errand to soothe away the sorrow that lay cold\\nin her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart, and converted it into a tomb\\nand to help her to overcome the passion, once so wild,\\nand even yet neither dead nor asleep, but only impris-\\noned within the same tomb-like heart\\nSuch were some of the thoughts that now stirred in\\nHester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mind, with as much vivacity of impression as\\nif they had actually been whispered into her ear. And\\nthere was little Pearl, all this while, holding her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nhand in both her own, and turning her face upward,\\nwhile she put these searching questions, once, and again,\\nand still a third time.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhat does the letter mean, mother? and why\\ndost thou wear it and why does the minister keep his\\nhand over his heart", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "HESTER AINU PEARL.\\n2U\\nu What shall I say thought Hester to herself.\\nNo If this be the price of the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sympathy, I\\ncannot pay it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThen she spoke aloud.\\nSilly Pearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, what questions are there\\nThere are many things in this world that a child must\\nnot ask about. What know I of the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart\\nAnd as for the scarlet letter, I wear it for the sake of\\nits gold thread.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIn all the seven bygone years, Hester Prynne had\\nnever before been false to the symbol on her bosom. It\\nmay be that it was the talisman of a stem and severe,\\nbut yet a guardian spirit, who now forsook her; as\\nrecognizing that, in spite of his strict watch over her\\nheart, some new evil had crept into it, or some old one\\nhad never been expelled. As for little Pearl, the ear-\\nnestness soon passed out of her face.\\nBut the child did not see fit to let the matter drop.\\nTwo or three times, as her mother and she went home-\\nward, and as often at supper-time, and w r hile Hester was\\nputting her to bed, and once after she seemed to be fairly\\nasleep, Pearl looked up, with mischief gleaming in her\\nblack eyes.\\nMother,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, what does the scarlet letter\\nmean\\nAnd the next morning, the first indication the child\\ngave of being awake was by popping up her head from\\nthe pillow, and making that other inquiry, which she\\nhad so unaccountably connected with her investigations\\nabout the scarlet letter\\nMother Mother Why does the minister keep\\nhis hand over his heart", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "212\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nHold thy tongue, naughty child answered hei\\nmother, with an asperity that she had never permitted\\nto herself before. Do not tease me else I shall shut\\nthee into the dark closet n", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "A FOREST WALK.\\n213\\nXVI.\\nA FOREST WALK.\\nHester Prynne remained constant in her resolve to\\nmake known to Mr. Dimmesdale, at whatever risk of\\npresent pain or ulterior consequences, the true charac-\\nter of the man who had crept into his intimacy. For\\nseveral days, however, she vainly sought an opportunity\\nof addressing him in some of the meditative walks\\nwhich she knew him to be in the habit of taking, along\\nthe shores of the peninsula, or on the wooded hills of the\\nneighboring country. There would have been no scan-\\ndal, indeed, nor peril to the holy whiteness of the cler-\\ngyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s good fame, had she visited him in his own\\nstudy where many a penitent, ere now, had confessed\\nsins of perhaps as deep a dye as the one betokened by the\\nscarlet letter But, partly that she dreaded the secret or\\nundisguised interference of old Roger Chillingworth, and\\npartly that her conscious heart imputed suspicion where\\nnone could have been felt, and partly that both the min-\\nister and she would need the whole wdde world to breathe\\nin, while they talked together, for all these reasons,\\nHester never thought of meeting him in any narrower\\nprivacy than beneath the open sky.\\nAt last, while attending in a sick-chamber, whither\\nthe Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale had been summoned to\\nmake a prayer, she learnt that he had gone, the day\\nbefore, to visit the Apostle Eliot, among his Indian con-\\nverts. He would probably return, by a certain hour, in", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "214\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nthe afternoon of the morrow. Betimes, therefore, the\\nnext day, Hester took little Pearl, who was necessa-\\nrily the companion of all her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s expeditions, how-\\never inconvenient her presence, and set forth.\\nThe road, after the two wayfarers had crossed from\\nthe peninsula to the mainland, was no other than a foot-\\npath. It straggled onward into the mystery of the pri-\\nmeval forest. This hemmed it in so narrowly, and stood\\nso black and dense on either side, and disclosed such\\nimperfect glimpses of the sky above, that, to Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nmind, it imaged not amiss the moral wilderness in which\\nshe had so long been wandering. The day was chill and\\nsombre. Overhead was a gay expanse of cloud, slightly\\nstirred, however, by a breeze so that a gleam of flick-\\nering sunshine might now and then be seen at its soli-\\ntary. play along the path. This flitting cheerfulness was\\nalways at the further extremity of some long vista through\\nthe forest. The sportive sunlight feebly sportive, at\\nbest, in the predominant pensiveness of the day and\\nscene withdrew itself as they came nigh, and left the\\nspots where it had danced the drearier, because they had\\nhoped to find them bright.\\nMother,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said little Pearl, the sunshine does not\\nlove you. It runs away and hides itself, because it is\\nafraid of something on your bosom. Now, see There\\nit is, playing, a good way off. Stand you here, and let\\nme run and catch it. I am but a child. It will not flee\\nfrom me for I wear nothing on my bosom yet\\nNor ever will, my child, I hope,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester.\\nAnd why not, mother asked Pearl, stopping short,\\njust at the beginning of her race. Will not it come of\\nit own accord, when I am a woman grown", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "A FOREST WALK.\\n21E\\nRun away, child,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered her mother, and catch\\nthe sunshine It will soon be gone.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPearl set forth, at a great pace, and, as Hester smiled\\nto perceive, did actually catch the sunshine, and stood\\nlaughing in the midst of it, all brightened by its splen-\\ndor, and scintillating with the vivacity excited by rapid\\nmotion. The light lingered about the lonely child, as if\\nglad of such a playmate, until her mother had drawn\\nalmost nigh enough to step into the magic circle too.\\nIt will go now,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Pearl, shaking her head.\\nSee answered Hester, smiling. Now I can\\nstretch out my hand, and grasp some of it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAs she attempted to do so, the sunshine vanished\\nor, to judge from the bright expression that was dancing\\non Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s features, her mothei could have fancied that\\nthe child had absorbed it into herself, and would give it\\nforth again, with a gleam about her path, as they should\\nplunge into some gloomier shade. There was no other\\nattribute that so much impressed her with a sense of\\nnew and untransmitted vigor in Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s nature, as this\\nnever-failing vivacity of spirits she had not the disease\\nof sadness, which almost all children, in these latter\\ndays, inherit, with the scrofula, from the troubles of their\\nancestors. Perhaps this too was a disease, and but the\\nreflex of the wild energy with which Hester had fought\\nagainst her sorrows, before Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s birth. It .was cer-\\ntainly a doubtful charm, imparting a hard, metallic lustre\\nto the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character. She wanted what some peo-\\nple want throughout life a grief that should deeply\\ntouch her, and thus humanize and make her capable of\\nsympathy. But there was time enough yet for little\\nPearl", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "216\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nCome, my child said Hester, looking about hei\\nfrom the spot where Pearl had stood still in the sun\\nshine. We will sit down a little way within the wood,\\nand rest ourselves.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI am not aweary, mother,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied the little girl\\nBut you may sit down, if you will tell me a story\\nmeanwhile.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nA story, child said Hester. And about what\\nO, a story about the Black Man,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Pearl,\\ntaking hold of her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gown, and looking up, half\\nearnestly, half mischievously, into her face. How he\\nhaunts this forest, and carries a book with him, a big,\\nheavy book, with iron clasps and how this ugly Black\\nMan offers his book and an iron pen to everybody that\\nmeets him here among the trees and they are to write\\ntheir names with their own blood. And then he sets his\\nmark on their bosoms Didst thou ever meet the Black\\nMan, mother\\nAnd who told you this story, Pearl asked her\\nmother, recognizing a common superstition of the period.\\nIt was the old dame in the chimney-corner, at the\\nhouse where you watched last night,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the child.\\nBut she fancied me asleep while she was talking of\\nit. She said that a thousand and a thousand people had\\nmet him here, and had written in his book, and have hi?\\nmark on .them. And that ugly-tempered lady, old Mis-\\ntress Hibbins, was one. And, mother, the old dame said\\nthat this scarlet letter was the Black Man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mark on\\nthee, and that it glows like a red flame when thou\\nmeetest him at midnight, here in the dark wood. Is it\\ntrue, mother And dost thou go to meet him in the\\nnight-time", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "A FOBEST WALK.\\n2il\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cDidst tnou ever awake, and find thy mother gone?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00basked Hestei.\\nNot that 1 remember,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the child. w If thou\\nfearest to leave me in our cottage, thou mightest take\\nme along with thee. I would very gladly go But,\\nmother, tell me now Is there such a Black Man\\nAnd didst thou ever meet him And is this his mark\\nWilt thou let me be at peace, if I once tell thee?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nasked her mother.\\nYes, if thou tellest me all,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Pearl.\\nOnce in my life I met the Black Man said her\\nmother. This scarlet letter is his mark\\nThus conversing, they entered sufficiently deep into\\nthe wood to secure themselves from the observation of\\nany casual passenger along the forest track. Here they\\nsat down on a luxuriant heap of moss which, at some\\nepoch of the preceding century, had been a gigantic\\npine, with its roots and trunk in the darksome shade,\\nand its head aloft in the upper atmosphere. It was a\\nlittle dell where they had seated themselves, with a leaf-\\nstrewn bank rising gently on either side, and a brook\\nflowing through the midst, over a bed of fallen and\\ndrowned leaves. The trees impending over it had\\nAung down great branches, from time to time, which\\nchoked up the current and compelled it to form eddies\\nAnd black depths at some points; while, in its swifter\\nmd livelier passages, there appeared a channel-way of\\npebbles, and brown, sparkling sand. Letting the eyes\\nd llow along the course of the stream, they could catch\\nthe reflected light from its water, at some short distance\\nwithin the forest, but soon lost all traces of it amid the\\noewilderment of tree-trunks and underbrush, and here", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "2 13\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER\\nand there a huge rock covered over with gray lichens\\nAll these giant trees and boulders of granite seemed\\nintent on making a mystery of the course of this small\\nbrook; fearing, perhaps, that, with its never-ceasing\\nloquacity, it should whisper tales out of the heart of the\\nold forest whence it flowed, or mirror its revelations on\\nthe smooth surface of a pool. Continually, indeed, as it\\nstole onward, the streamlet kept up a babble, kind, quiet,\\nsoothing, but melancholy, like the voice of a young child\\nthat was spending its infancy without playfulness, and\\nknew not how to be merry among sad acquaintance and\\nevents of sombre hue.\\nO brook O foolish and tiresome little brook r\\ncried Pearl, after listening awhile to its talk. Why\\nart thou so sad Pluck up a spirit, and do not be all\\nthe time sighing and murmuring\\nBut the brook, in the course of its little lifetime\\namong the forest-trees, had gone through so solemn an\\nexperience that it could not help talking about it, and\\nseemed to have nothing else to say. Pearl resembled\\nthe brook, inasmuch as the current of her life gushed\\nfrom a well-spring as mysterious, and had flowed through\\nscenes shadowed as heavily with gloom. But, unlike\\nthe little stream, she danced and sparkled, and prattled\\nairily along her course.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhat does this sad little brook say, mother?*\\ninquired she.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cIf thou hadst a sorrow of thine own, the brna*\\nmight tell thee of it,\u00e2\u0080\u0099* answered her mother, even as it\\nis telling me of mine But now, Pearl, I hear a foot-\\nstep along the path, and the noise of one putting aside", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "A FOREST WALK.\\n219\\nthe branches. I would have thee betake thyself to play\\nand leave me to speak with him that comes yonder.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIs it the Black Man asked Pearl.\\nWilt thou go and play, child repeated her mothei\\nBut do not stray far into the wood. And take heed\\nthat thou come at my first call.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYes, mother,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Pearl. But if it be tho\\nBlack Man, wilt thou not let me stay a moment, and\\nlook at him, with his big book under his arm\\nGo, silly child said her mother, impatiently. It\\nis no Black Man Thou canst see him now, through\\nthe trees. It is the minister\\nAnd so it is said the child. And, mother, he\\nhas his hand over his heart Is it because, when the\\nminister wrote his name in the book, the Black Man set\\nhis mark in that place But why does he not wear it\\noutside his bosom, as thou dost, mother\\nGo now, child, and thou shalt tease me as thou wilt\\nanother time,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried Hester Prynne. But do not stray\\nfar. Keep where thou canst hear the babble of the\\nbrook.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe child went singing away, following up the cur-\\nrent of the brook, and striving to mingle a more light-\\nsome cadence with its melancholy voice. But the little\\nstream would not be comforted, and still kept telling its\\nunintelligible secret of some very mournful mystery\\nthat had happened or making a prophetic lamentation\\nabout something that was yet to happen within the\\nverge of the dismal forest. So Pearl, who had enough\\nof shadow in her own little life, chose to break off all\\nacquaintance with this repining brook. She set herself,\\n.herefore, to gathering violets and wood-anemones, tnd", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "220\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nsome scarlet columbines that she found growing in the\\ncrevices of a high rock.\\nWhen her elf-child had departed, Hester Prynne made\\na step or two towards the track that led through the\\nforest, but still remained under the deep shadow of the\\ntrees. She beheld the minister advancing along the\\npath, entirely alone, and leaning on a staff which he had\\ncut by the way-side. He looked haggard and feeble,\\nand betrayed a nerveless despondency in his air, which\\nhad never so remarkably characterized him in his walks\\nabout the settlement, nor in any other situation where\\nhe deemed himself liable to notice. Here it was wofully\\nvisible, in this intense seclusion of the forest, which of\\nitself would have been a heavy trial to the spirits.\\nThere was a listlessness in his gait as if he saw no\\nreason for taking one step further, nor felt any desire\\nto do so, but would have been glad, could he be glad of\\nanything, to fling himself down at the root of the near-\\nest tree, and lie there passive, forevermore. The leaves\\nmight bestrew him, and the soil gradually accumulate\\nand form a little hillock over his frame, no matter\\nwhether there were life in it or no. Death was too\\ndefinite an object to be wished for, or avoided.\\nTo Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eye, the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale ex-\\nhibited no symptom of positive and vivacious suffering\\nexcept that, as little Pearl had remarked, he kept his\\nhand over his heart.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "THE PASTOR AND HIS PARISHIONER.\\n221\\nXVII.\\nTHE PASTOR AND HIS PARISHIONER.\\nSlowly as the minister walked, he had almost gone\\nby, before Hester Prynne could gather voice enough to\\nattract his observation. At length, she succeeded.\\nArthur Dimmesdale she said, faintly at first\\nthen louder, but hoarsely. Arthur Dimmesdale\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWho speaks? answered the minister.\\nGathering himself quickly up, he stood more erect,\\nlike a man taken by surprise in a mood to which he\\nwas reluctant to have witnesses. Throwing his eyes\\nanxiously in the direction of the voice, he indistinctly\\nbeheld a form under the trees, clad in garments so\\nsombre, and so little relieved from the gray twilight\\ninto which the clouded sky and the heavy foliage had\\ndarkened the noontide, that he knew not whether it\\nwere a woman or a shadow. It may be, that his path-\\nway through life was haunted thus, by a spectre that\\nhad stolen out from among his thoughts.\\nHe made a step nigher, and discovered the scarlet\\nletter.\\nHester Hester Prynne said he. Is it thou\\nArt thou in life\\nEven so she answered. In such life as has\\nbeen mine these seven years past And thou, Arthur\\nDimmesdale, dost thou yet live\\nIt w\\\\as no wonder that they thus questioned one an-\\nother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s actual and bodily existence, and even doubted", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "222\\nTITE SCARLET LETTER.\\nof their own So strangely did they meet, in the dun\\nwood, that it was like the first encounter, in the world\\nbeyond the grave, of two spirits who had been inti-\\nmately connected in their former life, but now stood\\ncoldly shuddering, in mutual dread as not yet familiar\\nwith their state, nor wonted to the companionship of\\ndisembodied beings. Each a ghost, and awe-stricken at\\nthe other ghost They were awe-stricken likewise at\\nthemselves because the crisis flung back to them their\\nconsciousness, and revealed to each heart its history and\\nexperience, as life never does; except at such breathless\\nepochs. The soul beheld its features in the mirror of\\nche passing moment. It was with fear, and tremulously,\\nand, as it were, by a slow, reluctant necessity, that\\nArthur Dimmesdale put forth his hand, chill as death,\\nand touched the chill hand of Hester Prynne. The\\ngrasp, cold as it was, took away what was dreariest in\\nthe interview. They now felt themselves, at least,\\ninhabitants of the same sphere.\\nWithout a word more spoken, neither he nor she\\nassuming the guidance, but with an unexpressed con-\\nsent, they glided back into the shadow of the woods,\\nwhence Hester had emerged, ant sat down on the heap\\nof moss where she and Pearl v*ad before been sitting.\\nWhen they found voice to speak, it was, at first, only\\nto utter remarks and inquiries sucn as any two ac-\\nquaintance might have made, about the gloomy sky, the\\nthreatening storm, and, next, the health of each. Thus\\nthey went onward, not boldly, but step by step, into the\\nthemes that were brooding deepest in their hearts. So\\nlong estranged by fate and circumstances, they needed\\nsomething slight and casual to run before, and throw", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "THE PASTOR AKD HIS PARISHIONER.\\n223\\npen the doors of intercourse, so that their real thoughts\\nmight be led across the threshold.\\nAfter a while, the ministei fixed his eyes on HesteT\\nPrynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s.\\nHester,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, hast thou found peace\\nShe smiled drearily, looking down upon her bosom.\\nHast thou she asked.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNone! nothing but despair!\u00e2\u0080\u009d he answered.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhat else could I look for, being what I am, and\\nleading such a life as mine? Were I an atheist, a\\nman devoid of conscience, a wretch with coarse and\\nbrutal instincts, I might have found peace, long ere\\nnow. Nay, I never should have lost it But, as matters\\nstand with my soul, whatever of good capacity there\\noriginally was in me, all of God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gifts that were the\\nchoicest have become the ministers of spiritual torment.\\nHester, I am most miserable\\nThe people reverence thee,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester. And\\nsurely thou workest good among them Doth this bring\\nthee no comfort\\nMore misery, Hester only the more misery\\nanswered the clergyman, with a bitter smile. As con-\\ncerns the good which I may appear to do, I have no faith\\nin it. It must needs be a delusion. What can a ruined\\nsoul, like mine, effect towards the redemption of other\\nsouls or a polluted scul, towards their purification\\nAnd as for the people\u00e2\u0080\u0099s reference, would that it were\\nturned to scorn and hatred Canst thou deem it, Hes-\\nter, a consolation, that I must stand up in my pulpit, and\\nmeet so many eyes turned upward to my face, as if the\\nlight of heaven were beaming from it must see my\\nflock hungry for the truth, and listening to my words as", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "224\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nif a tongue of Pentecost were speaking and then look\\ninward, and discern the black reality of what they idol-\\nize I have laughed, in bitterness and agony of heart,\\nat the contrast between what I seem and what I am\\nAnd Satan laughs at it\\nYou wrong yourself in this,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester, gently.\\nYou have deeply and sorely repented. Your sin is left\\nbehind you, in the days long past. Your present life is\\nnot less holy, in very truth, than it seems in people\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\neyes. Is there no reality in the penitence thus sealed\\nand witnessed by good works And wherefore should\\nit not bring you peace\\nNo, Hester, no replied the clergyman. There\\nis no substance in it It is cold and dead, and can do\\nnothing for me Of penance, I have had enough Of\\npenitence, there has been none Else, I should long\\nago have thrown off these garments of mock holiness,\\nand have shown myself to mankind as they will see\\nme at the judgment-seat. Happy are you, Hester, that\\nwear the scarlet letter openly upon your bosom Mine\\nbums in secret Thou little knowest what a relief it\\nis, after the torment of a seven years\u00e2\u0080\u0099 cheat, to look into\\nan eye that recognizes me for what I am Had I cue\\nfriend, or were it my worst enemy to whom, when\\nsickened with the praises of all other men, I could daily\\nbetake myself, and be known as the vilest of all sinners,\\nmethinks my soul might keep itself alive thereby. Even\\nthus much of tmth would save me But, now, it is all\\nfalsehood all emptiness all death\\nHester Prynne looked into his face, but hesitated to\\nspeak. Yet, uttering his long-restrained emotions sc\\nvehemently as he did, his words here offered her the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0242.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "THE PASTOR AND HIS PARISHIONER.\\n225\\nTory point of circumstances in which to interpose what\\nshe came to say. She conquered her fears, and spoke.\\nSuch a friend as thou hast even now wished for/\\nsaid she, with whom to weep over thy sin, thou hast\\nin me, the partner of it Again she hesitated, but\\nbrought out the words with an effort. Thou hast long\\nhad such an enemy, and dwellest with him, under the\\nsame roof\\nThe minister started to his feet, gasping for breath,\\nand clutching at his heart, as if he would have torn it\\nout of his bosom.\\nHa What sayest thou cried he. An enemy\\nAnd under mine own roof! What mean you\\nHester Prynne was now fully sensible of the deep\\ninjury for which she was responsible to this unhappy\\nman, in permitting him to lie for so many years, or.\\nindeed, for a single moment, at the mercy of one whose\\npurposes could not be other than malevolent. The very\\ncontiguity of his enemy, beneath whatever mask the lat\\nter might conceal himself, was enough to disturb the\\nmagnetic sphere of a being so sensitive as Arthur Dim-\\nmesdale. There had been a period when Hester was\\nless alive to this consideration or, perhaps, in the mis-\\nanthropy of her own trouble, she left the minister to bear\\nwhat she might picture to herself as a more tolerable\\ndoom. But of late, since the night of his vigil, all her\\nsympathies towards him had been both softened and\\ninvigorated. She now read his heart more accurately\\nShe doubted not, that the continual presence of Rogei\\nChillingworth, the secret poison of his malignity, in-\\nfecting all the air about him, and his authorized inter-\\nference, as a physician, with the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s physical and\\n15", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0243.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "226\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nspiritual infirmities, that these bad opportunities had\\nbeen turned to a cruel purpose. By means of them, the\\nsufferer\u00e2\u0080\u0099s conscience had been kept in an irritated state,\\nthe tendency of which was, not to cure by wholesome\\npain, but to disorganize and corrupt his spiritual being.\\nIts result, on earth, could hardly fail to be insanity, and\\nhereafter, that eternal alienation from the Good and True,\\nof which madness is perhaps the earthly type.\\nSuch was the ruin to which she had brought the man,\\nonce, nay, why should we not speak it still so pas-\\nsionately loved! Hester felt that the sacrifice of the\\nclergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s good name, and death itself, as she had\\nalready told Roger Chillingworth, would have been infi-\\nnitely preferable to the alternative which she had taken\\nupon herself to choose. And now, rather than have had\\nthis grievous wrong to confess, she would gladly have\\nlain down on the forest-leaves, and died there, at Arthur\\nDiinmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s feet.\\nO Arthur,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried she, forgive me In all things\\nelse, I have striven to be true Truth was the one\\nvirtue which I might have held fast, and did hold fast,\\nthrough all extremity; save when thy good, thy life,\\nthy fame, were put in question! Then I con-\\nsented to a deception. But a lie is never good, even\\nthough death threaten on the other side Dost thou\\nnot see what I would say That old man the phy-\\nsician! he whom they call Roger Chillingwo-th\\nhe was my husband\\nThe minister looked at her, for an instant, with all\\nthat violence of passion, which intermixed, in more\\nshapes than one, with his higher, purer, softer qualities,\\nwas, in fact, the portion of him which the D^vil", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0244.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "THE PASTOR AND HIS PARISHIONER.\\n221\\nclaimed, and through which he sought to win the rest.\\nNever was there a blacker or a fiercer frown than Hes*\\nter now encountered. For the brief space that it lasted,\\nit was a dark transfiguration. But his character had\\nbeen so much enfeebled by suffering, that even its lower\\nenergies were incapable of more than a temporary strug-\\ngle. He sank down on the ground, and buried his face\\nin his hands.\\nI might have known it,\u00e2\u0080\u009d murmured he. I did\\nknow it! Was not the secret told me, in the natural\\nrecoil of my heart, at the first sight of him, and as often\\nas I have seen him since Why did I not understand\\nO Hester Prynne, thou little, little knowest all the hor-\\nror of this thing And the shame the indelicacy\\nthe horrible ugliness of this exposure of a sick and\\nguilty heart to the very eye that would gloat over it l\\nWoman, woman, thou art accountable for this I can-\\nnot forgive thee\\nThou shalt forgive me cried Hester, flinging her-\\nself on the fallen leaves beside him. Let God pun\\nish Thou shalt forgive\\nWith sudden and desperate tenderness, she threw her\\narms around him, and pressed his head against her bosom\\nlittle caring though his cheek rested on the scarlet letter.\\nHe would have released himself, but strove in vain to do\\nso. Hester would not set him free, lest he should look\\nher sternly in the face. All the world had frowned on\\nher, for seven long years had it frowned upon this\\nJonely woman, and still she bore it all, nor ever once\\nturned away her firm, sad eyes. Heaven, likewise, had\\nfrowned upon her, and she had not died. But the frown", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0245.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "228\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nof this pa*e, weak, sinful, and soi row-stricken man was\\nwhat Hester could not bear and live\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWilt thou yet forgive me she repeated, over and\\nover again. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWilt thou not frown? Wilt thou for\\n$pve\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009c1 do forgive you, Hester,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied the minister, at\\nlength, with a deep utterance, out of an abyss of sadness,\\nbut no anger. I freely forgive you now. May God\\nforgive us both We are not, Hester, the worst sinners\\nin the world. There is one worse than even the pol-\\nluted priest That old man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s revenge has been blacker\\nthan my sin. He has violated, in cold blood, the sanc-\\ntity of a human heart. Thou and I, Hester, never did\\no!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNever, never whispered she. What we did had\\na consecration of its own. We felt it so We said so\\nto each other Hast thou forgotten it\\nHush, Hester said Arthur Dimmesdale, rising\\nfrom the ground. No I have not forgotten\\nThey sat down again, side by side, and hand clasped\\nin hand, on the mossy trunk of the fallen tree. Life had\\nnever brought them a gloomier hour it was the point\\nwhither their pathway had so long been tending, and\\ndarkening ever, as it stole along; and yet it enclosed\\na charm that made them linger upon it, and claim an-\\nother, and another, and, after all, another moment. The\\nforest was obscure around them, and creaked with a\\nblast that was passing through it. The boughs were\\ntossing heavily above their heads while one solemn old\\ntree groaned dolefully to another, as if telling the sad\\nstory of the pair that sat beneath, or constrained to fore-\\nbode evil to come.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0246.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "fHE PASTOR AND HIS PARISHIONER\\nAnd yet they lingered. How dreary looked the forest-\\ntrack that led backward to the settlement, where Hester\\nPrynne must take up again the burden of her ignominy,\\nand the minister the hollow mockery of his good name\\nSo they lingered an instant longer. No golden light had\\never been so precious as the gloom of this dark forest.\\nHere, seen only by his eyes, the scarlet letter need not\\nbum into the bosom of the fallen woman Here, seen\\nonly by her eyes, Arthur Dimmesdale, false to God and\\nman, might be, for one moment, true\\nHe started at a thought that suddenly occurred to\\nhim.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHester,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried he, \u00e2\u0080\u009chere is a new horror Roger\\nChillingworth knows your purpose to reveal his true\\ncharacter. Will he continue, then, to keep our secret\\nWhat will now be the course of his revenge\\nThere is a strange secrecy in his nature,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied\\nHester, thoughtfully and it has grown upon him by\\nthe hidden practices of his revenge. I deem it not likely\\nthat he will betray the secret. He will doubtless seek\\nother means of satiating his dark passion.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd I how am I to live longer, breathing the\\nsame air with this deadly enemy?\u00e2\u0080\u009d exclaimed Arthur\\nDimmesdale, shrinking within himself, and pressing his\\nhand nervously against his heart, a gesture that had\\ngrown involuntary with him. Think for me, Hester\\nThou art strong. Resolve for me\\nThou must dwell no longer with this man,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said\\nHester, slowly and firmly. \u00e2\u0080\u009cThy heart must be no\\nlonger under his evil eye\\nIt were far worse than death replied the minister\\nBut how to avoid it What choice remains to roe", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0247.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "THE S ARLF.T LETTER.\\n0*0\\nShall I lie down again on these withered leaves, where\\nI cast myself when thou didst tell me what he was\\nMust I sink down there, and die at once\\nAlas, what a ruin has befallen thee said Hester,\\nwith the tears gushing into her eyes. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWilt thou die\\nfor very weakness There is no other cause\\nThe judgment of God is on me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the con\\nscience-stricken priest. \u00e2\u0080\u009cIt is too mighty for me to\\nstruggle with\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHeaven would show mercy,\u00e2\u0080\u009d rejoined Hester, \u00e2\u0080\u009chadst\\nthou but the strength to take advantage of it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nBe thou strong for me answered he. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAdvise me\\nwhat to do.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIs the world, then, so narrow exclaimed Hester\\nPrynne, fixing her deep eyes on the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, and in-\\nstinctively exercising a magnetic power over a spirit so\\nchattered and subdued that it could hardly hold itself\\nerect. Doth the universe lie within the compass of\\nyonder town, which only a little time ago was but a leaf-\\nstrewn desert, as lonely as this around us Whither\\nleads yonder forest track Backward to the settlement,\\nthou sayest Yes but onward, too Deeper it goes,\\nand deeper, into the wilderness, less plainly to be seen\\nat every step until, some few miles hence, the yellow\\nleaves will show no vestige of the white man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s tread.\\nThere thou art free So brief a journey would bring\\nthee from a world where thou hast been most wretched,\\nto one where thou mayest still be happy Is there not\\nshade enough in all this boundless forest to hide thy\\nheart from the gaze of Roger Chillingworth\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYes, Hester; but only under the fallen leaves!\u00e2\u0080\u0099\\nreplied the minister, with a sad smile.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0248.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "THE PASTOR AND HIS PARISHIONER.\\n231\\nThen there is the broad pathway of the sea con-\\ntinued Hester. \u00e2\u0080\u009cIt brought thee hither. If thou so\\nchoose, it will bear thee back again. In our native land,\\nwhether in some remote rural village or in vast London,\\nor, surely, in Germany, in France, in pleasant Italy,\\nthou wouldst be beyond his power and knowledge\\nAnd what hast thou to do with all these iron men, and\\ntheir opinions They have kept thy better part in bond-\\nage too long already\\nIt cannot be answered the minister, listening as\\nif he were called upon to realize a dream. I am pow-\\nerless to go! Wretched and sinful as I am, I have had\\nno other thought than to drag on my earthly existence in\\nthe sphere where Providence hath placed me. Lost as\\nmy own soul is, I would still do what I may for other\\nhuman souls I dare not quit my post, though an unfaith-\\nful sentinel, whose sure reward is death and dishonor,\\nwhen his dreary watch shall come to an end\\nThou art crushed under this seven years\u00e2\u0080\u0099 weight ot\\nmisery,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied Hester, fervently resolved to buoy him\\nup with her own energy. But thou shalt leave it all\\nbehind thee It shall not cumber thy steps, as thou\\ntreadest along the forest-path neither shalt thou freight\\nthe ship with it, if thou prefer to cross the sea. Leave\\nthis wreck and ruin here where it hath happened. Med-\\ndle no more with it Begin all anew Hast thou ex-\\nhausted possibility in the failure of this one trial Not\\nso The future is yet full of trial and success. There\\nis happiness to be enjoyed There is good to be done\\nExchange this false life of thine for a true one. B*\u00c2\u00bb, if\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009ehy spirit summon thee to such a mission, the teacher\\ntnd apostle of the red men. Or, as is more thy", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0249.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "232\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nnature, be a scholar an I a sage among the wisest and\\nthe most renowned of the cultivated world. Preach\\nWrite Act Do anything, save to lie down and die\\nGive up this name of Arthur Dimmesdale, and make\\nthyself another, and a high one, such as thou canst wear\\nwithout fear or shame. Why shouldst thou tarry so\\nmuch as one other day in the torments that have so\\ngnawed into thy life that have made thee feeble to\\nwill and to do that will leave thee powerless even to\\niepent Up, and away\\nO Hester cried Arthur Dimmesdale, in whose\\neyes a fitful light, kindled by her enthusiasm, flashed\\nup and died away, thou tellest of running a race to a\\nman whose knees are tottering beneath him 1 must\\ndie here There is not the strength or courage left me\\nto venture into the wide, strange, difficult world, alone\\nIt was the last expression of the despondency of a\\nbroken spirit. He lacked energy to grasp the better fo*\\ntune that se?med within his reach.\\nHe repeated the word.\\nAlone, Hester\\nThou shalt not go aloi/3 answered she, in a deep\\nwhisper.\\nThen, all was spoken", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0250.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "A FLOOD OF SUNSHINE.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0098233\\nXVIII.\\nA FLOOD OF SUNSHINE.\\nAkinua Dimmesdale gazed into Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face with a\\n/aok in which hope and joy shone out, indeed, but with\\nfear betwixt them, and a kind of horror at her boldness,\\nwhfc had spoken what he vaguely hinted at, but dared\\nnot speak.\\nBut Hester Prynne, with a mind of native courage and\\nactivity, and for so long a period not merely estranged,\\nbut outlawed, from society, had habituated herself to such\\nlatitude of speculation as was altogether foreign to the\\nclergyman. She had wandered, without rule or guid-\\nance, in a moral wilderness as vast, as intricate and\\nshadowy, as the untamed forest, amid the gloom of which\\nthey were now holding a colloquy that was to decide their\\nfate. Her intellect and heart had their home, as it were,\\nin desert places, where she roamed as freely a? the wild\\nIndian in his woods. For years past she had looked from\\nthis estranged point of view at human institutions, and\\nwhatever priests or legislators had established criticising\\nall with hardly more reverence than the Indian would feel\\nfor the clerical band, the judicial robe, the pillory, the\\ngallows, the fireside, or the church. The tendency of\\nher fate and fortunes had been to set her free. The\\nscarlet letter was her passport into regions whe^e othel\\nwomen dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude-\\nThese had been her teachers, stern and wild ones,", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0251.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "234\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER-\\nand they had made her strong, but taught her much\\namiss.\\nThe minister, on the other hand, had never gone\\nthrough an experience calculated to lead him beyond the\\nscope of generally received laws although, in a single\\ninstance, he had so fearfully transgressed one of the most\\nsacred of them.[ But this had been a sin of passion, not\\nof principle, nor even purpose^ Since that wretcJbea\\nepoch, he had watched, with morbid zeal and minuteness,\\nnot his acts. for those it was easy to arrange,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nbut each breath of emotion, and his every thought. At\\nthe head of the social system, as the clergymen of that\\nday stood, he was only the more trammelled by its regu\\nlations, its principles and even its prejudices. As a\\npriest, the framework of his order inevitably hemmed him\\njn. As a man who had once sinned, but who kept his\\nconscience all alive and painfully sensitive by the fretting\\nof an unhealed wound, he might have been supposed\\nsafer within the line of virtue than if he had never\\nsinned at all.\\nThus, we seem to see that, as regarded Hester Prynne,\\nthe whole seven years of outlaw and ignominy had been\\nlittle other than a preparation for this very hour. But\\nArthur Dimmesdale Were such a man once more to\\nfall, what plea could bdHTged in extenuation of his crime\\nNone unless it avail him somewhat, that he was broken\\ndown by long and exquisite suffering that his mind was\\ndarkened and confused by the very remorse which har-\\nrowed it; that, between fleeing as an avowed criminal,\\nand remaining as a hypocrite, conscience might find it\\nhard to strike the balance that it was human to avoid\\nthe peril of death and infamy, and the inscrutable machi.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0252.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "A FLOOL OF SUNSHINE.\\n235\\nnations of an enemy that, finally, to this poor pilgrim,\\non his dreary and desert path, faint, sick, miserable, there\\nappeared a glimpse of human affection and sympathy, a\\nnew life, and a true one, in exchange for the heavy doom\\nwhich he was now expiating. And be the stern and sad\\ntruth spoken, that the breach which guilt has once made\\ninto the human soul is never, in this mortal state, repaired.\\nIt may be watched and guarded; so that the enemy\\nshall not force his way again into the citadel, and might\\neven, in his subsequent assaults, select some other avenue,\\nin preference to that where he had formerly succeeded.\\nBut there is still the ruined wall, and, near it, the stealthy\\ntread of the foe that would win over again his unforgot-\\nten triumph.\\nThe struggle, if there were one, need not be described.\\nLet it suffice, that the clergyman resolved to flee, and not\\nalone.\\nIf, in all these past seven years,\u00e2\u0080\u009d thought he, I\\ncould recall one instant of peace or hope, I would yet\\nendure, for the sake of that earnest of Heaven\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mercy.\\nBut now, since I am irrevocably doomed, wherefore\\nshould I not snatch the solace allowed to the condemned\\nculprit before his execution Or, if this be the path to\\na better life, as Hester would persuade me, I surely give\\nup no fairer prospect by pursuing it! Neither can l\\nany longer live without her companionship so powerful\\nis she to sustain, so tender to soothe! O Thou to\\nwhom I dare not lift mine eyes, wilt Thou yet paidon\\nme I\\nThou wilt go said Hester, calmly, as he met her\\nglance.\\nThe decision once made, a glow of strange enjoyment", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0253.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "236\\nTHE SCARLET LETTFK.\\nthrew its flickering brightness over the trouble af hi*\\nbreast. It was the exhilarating effect upon a prisoner\\njust escaped from the dungeon of his own heart of\\nbreathing the wild, free atmosphere of an unredeemed,\\nunchristianized, lawless region. His spirit rose, as i.\\nwere, with a bound, and attained a nearer prospect of\\nthe sky, than throughout all the misery which had kept\\nhim grovelling on the earth. Of a deeply religious\\ntemperament, there was inevitably a tinge of the devo-\\ntional in his mood.\\nDo I feel joy again cried he, wondering at him-\\nself. Methought the genn of it was dead in me O\\nHester, thou art my better angel I seem to have flung\\nmyself sick, sin-stained, and sorrow-blackened down\\nupon these forest-leaves, and to have risen up all made\\nanew, and with new powers to glorify Him that hath been\\nmerciful This is already the better life Why did we\\nnot find it sooner\\nLet us not look back,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hester Prynne.\\nThe past is gone Wherefore should we linger upon\\nit now See With this symbol, I undo it all, and\\nmake it as it had never been\\nSo speaking, she undid the clasp that fastened the scar-\\nlet letter, and, taking it from her bosom, threw it to a dis-\\ntance among the withered leaves. The mystic token\\nalighted on the hither verge of the stream. With a\\nhand\u00e2\u0080\u0099s breadth further flight it would have fallen into the\\nwater, and have given the little brook another woe to\\ncarry onward, besides the unintelligible tale which it still\\nkept murmuring about. But there lay the embroidered\\nletter, glittering like a lost jewel, which some ill-fated\\nvanderer might pick up, an;l thenceforth be haunted by", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0254.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "A. flood of sunshine.\\n237\\nstrange phantoms of guilt, sinkings of the heart, and\\nunaccountable misfortune.\\nThe stigma gone, Hester heaved a long, deep sigh, in\\ntvhich the burden of shame and anguish departed from\\nhei spirit. O exquisite relief! She had not known the\\nweight, until she felt the freedom By another impulse,\\nshe took off the formal cap that confined her hair and\\ndown it fell upon her shoulders, dark and rich, with at\\nonce a shadow and a light in its abundance, and impart-\\ning the charm of softness to her features. There played\\naround her mouth, and beamed out of her eyes, a radiant\\nand tender smile, that seemed gushing from the very\\nheart of womanhood. A crimson flush was glowing on\\nher cheek, that had been long so pale. Her sex, her\\nyouth, and the whole richness of her beauty, came back\\nfrom what men call the irrevocable past, and clustered\\nthemselves, with her maiden hope, and a happiness before\\nunknown, within the magic circle of this hour. And, as\\nif the gloom of the earth and sky had been but the efflu-\\nence of these two mortal hearts, it vanished with their\\nsorrow. All at once, as with a sudden smile of heaven,\\nforth burst the sunshine, pouring a very flood into the\\nobscure forest, gladdening each green leaf, transmuting\\nthe yellow fallen ones to gold, and gleaming adown the\\njjray trunks of the solemn trees. The objects that had\\nmade a shadow hitherto, embodied the brightness now.\\nThe course of the little brook might be traced by its\\nmei ry gleam afar into the wood\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart of mystery, which\\nhad become a mystery of joy.\\nSuch was the sympathy of Nature that wild, heathen\\nNature of the forest, never subjugated by human iaw,\\nnor illumined by higher truth with the bliss of these two", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0255.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "238\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nspirits Love, whether newly born, or aroused from\\ndeath-like slumber, must always create a sunshine, filling\\nthe heart so full of radiance, that it overflows upon the\\noutward world. Had the forest still kept its gloom, it\\nwould have been bright in Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eyes, and bright in\\nArthur Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nHester looked at him with the thrill of another joy.\\nThou must know Pearl said she. Our little\\nPearl! Thou hast seen her, yes, I know it! but\\nthou wilt see her now with other eyes. She is a strange\\nchild I hardly comprehend her But thou wilt love\\nher dearly, as I do, and wilt advise me how to deal with\\nher.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nDost thou think the child will be glad to know me\\nasked the minister, somewhat uneasily. I have long\\nshrunk from children, because they often show a distrust,\\na backwardness to be familiar with me. I have even\\nbeen afraid of little Pearl\\nAh, that was sad answered the mother. But\\nshe will love thee dearly, and thou her. She is not far\\noff. I will call her Pearl Pearl\\nI see the child,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed the minister. Yonder she\\nis, standing in a streak of sunshine, a good way off, on the\\nother side of the brook. So thou thinkest the child will\\nlove me\\nHester smiled, and again called to Pearl, who was\\nvisible, at some distance, as the minister had described\\nher, like a bright-apparelled vision, in a sunbeam, which\\nfell down upon her through an arch of boughs. The ray\\nquivered to and fro, making her figure dim or distinct,\\nnow like a real child now like a child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s spirit, as the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0256.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "A FLOOD OF SUNSHINS.\\n2\\nsplendor went and came again. She heard her mother s\\nvoice, and approached slowly through the forest.\\nPearl had not found the hour pass wearisomely, while\\nher mother sat talking with the clergyman. The great\\nblack forest stern as it showed itself tr those who\\nbrought the guilt and troubles of the world into its\\nbosom became the playmate of the lonely infant, as\\nwell as it knew how. Sombre as it was, it put on the\\nkindest of its moods to welcome her. It offered her the\\npartridge-berries, the growth of the preceding autumn,\\nbut ripening only in the spring, and now red as drops\\nof blood upon the withered leaves. These Pearl gath-\\nered, and was pleased with their wild flavor. The\\nsmall denizens of the wilderness hardly took pains to\\nmove out of her path. A partridge, indeed, with a\\nbrood of ten behind her, ran forward threateningly, but\\nsoon repented of her fierceness, and clucked to her\\nyoung ones not to be afraid. A pigeon, alone on a low\\nbranch, allowed Pearl to come beneath, and uttered a\\nsound as much of greeting as alarm. A squirrel, from\\nthe lofty depths of his domestic tree, chattered either in\\nanger or merriment, for a squirrel is such a choleric\\nand humorous little personage, that it is hard to distin-\\nguish between his moods, so he chattered at the child,\\nand flung down a nut upon her head. It was a last\\nyear\u00e2\u0080\u0099s nut, and already gnawed by his sharp tooth. A\\nfox, startled from his sleep by her light footstep on\\nthe leaves, looked inquisitively at Pearl, as doubting\\nwhether it were better to steal off, or renew his nap on\\nthe same spot A wolf, it is said, but here the tale\\nhas surely lapsed into the improbable, came up, and\\nsmelt of Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s robe, and offered his savage head to", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0257.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "240\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nbe patted by her hand. The truth seems to be, how-\\never, that the mother-forest, and these wild things which\\nit nourished, all recognized a kindred wildness in the\\nhuman child.\\nAnd she was gentler here than in the grassy-margined\\nstreets of the settlement, or in her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s cottage.\\nThe flowers appeared to know it and one and another\\nwhispered as she passed, Adorn thyself with me, thou\\nbeautiful child, adorn thyself wi Ai me!\u00e2\u0080\u009d and, to\\nplease them, Pearl gathered the violets, and anemones,\\nand columbines, and some twigs of the freshest green,\\nwhich the old trees held down before her eyes. With\\nthese she decorated her hair, and her young waist, and\\nbecame a nymph-child, or an infant dryad, or whatever\\nelse was in closest sympathy with the antique wood. In\\nsuch guise had Pearl adorned herself, when she heard\\nher mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice, and came slowly back.\\nSlowly; fo- she saw the clergyman!", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0258.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "THE CHILD AT THE BROOK-SIDE.\\n241\\nXIX.\\nTHE CHILD AT THE BROOK-SIDE.\\nThou wilt love her dearly,\u00e2\u0080\u009d repeated Hester Prynne,\\nas she and the minister sat watching little Pearl. \u00e2\u0080\u009cDost\\nthou not think her beautiful And see with what\\nnatural skill she has made those simple flowers adorn\\nher! Had she gathered pearls, and diamonds, and\\nrubies, in the wood, they could not have become her\\nbetter. She is a splendid child But I know whose\\nbrow she has\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cDost thou know, Hester,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Arthur Dimmesdale,\\nwith an unquiet smile, \u00e2\u0080\u009cthat this dear child, tripping\\nabout always at thy side, hath caused me many an\\nalarm 1 Methought 0 Hester, what a thought is\\nthat, and how terrible to dread it that my own\\nfeatures were partly repeated in her face, and so strik-\\ningly that the world might see them! But she is\\nmostly thine\\n.No, no Not mostly answered the mother, with a\\ntender smile. \u00e2\u0080\u009cA little longer, and thou needest not to\\nbe afraid to trace whose child she is. But how strangely\\nbeautiful she looks, with those wild flowers in her hair!\\nIt is as if one of the fairies, whom we left in our dear\\nold England, had decked her out to meet us.\\nIt was with a feeling which neither of them had ever\\nbefore experienced, that they sat and watched Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nslow advance. In her was visible the tie that united\\nthem. She had been offered to the world, these seven\\n16", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0259.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "242\\nTHE SCARLET IETTHfc.\\nyears past, as the living hieroglyphic, in which was\\nrevealed the secret they so darkly sought to hide, all\\nwritten in this symbol, all plainly manifest, had\\nthere been a prophet or magician skilled to read the\\ncharacter of flame And Pearl was the oneness of their\\nbeing. Be the foregone evil what it might, how could\\nthey doubt that their earthly lives and future destinies\\nwere conjoined, when they beheld at once the material\\nunion, and the spiritual idea, in whom they met, and\\nwere to dwell immortally together? Thoughts like\\nthese and perhaps other thoughts, which they did not\\nacknowledge or define threw an awe about the child,\\nas she came onward.\\nLet her see nothing strange no passion nor eager-\\nness in thy way of accosting her,\u00e2\u0080\u009d whispered Hester.\\nOur Pearl is a fitful and fantastic little elf, sometimes.\\nEspecially, she is seldom tolerant of emotion, when she\\ndoes not fully comprehend the why and wherefore. But\\nthe child hath strong affections She loves me, and will\\nlove thee\\nThou canst not think,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the minister, glancing\\naside at Hester Prynne, how my heart dreads this in-\\nterview, and yearns for it But, in truth, as I already\\ntold thee, children are not readily won to be familiar\\nwith me. They will not climb my knee, nor prattle in\\nmy ear, nor answer to my smile but stand apart, and\\neye me strangely. Even little babes, when I take them\\nin my arms, weep bitterly. Yet Pearl, twice in hel\\nlittle lifetime, hath been kind to me The first time,\\nthou knowest it well The last was when thou ledst\\nher with thee to the house of yonder stem old Gov-\\nernor.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0260.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "I*R\u00c2\u00a3 CHILD AT THE BROOK-SIDE.\\n24\\n4 And thou didst plead so bravely in her behalf and\\nmine answered the mother. 44 1 remember it and so\\nshall little Pearl. Fear nothing! She may be strange\\nand shy at first, but will soon learn to love thee\\nBy this time Pearl had reached the margin of the\\nbrook, and stood on the further side, gazing silently at\\nHester and the clergyman, who still sat together on the\\nmossy tree-trunk, waiting to receive her. Just where\\nshe had paused, the brook chanced to form a pool, so\\nsmooth and quiet that it reflected a perfect image of hei\\nlittle figure, with all the brilliant picturesqueness of hei\\nbeauty, in its adornment of flowers and wreathed foliage,\\nbut more refined and spiritualized than the reality.\\nThis image, so nearly identical with the living 7V.rrl,\\nseemed to communicate somewhat of its own sh b r/y\\nand intangible quality to the child herself. J vas\\nstrange, the way in which Pearl stood, looking so r ead*\\nlastly at them through the dim medium of the //rest-\\ngloom; herself, meanwhile, all glorified with a vay of\\nsunshine, that was attracted thitherward as by a ertain\\nsympathy. In the brook beneath stood another c uld,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nanother and the same, with likewise its ray of golden\\nlight. Hester felt herself, in some indistinct anr. tanta-\\nlizing manner, estranged from Pearl as if the \u00e2\u0080\u0099hild, in\\nher lonely ramble through the forest, had strayed out of\\nthe sphere in which she and her mother dwelt together,\\nand was now vainly seeking to return to it.\\nThere was both truth and error in the impression the\\nchild and mother were estranged, but through Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nfault, not Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s. Since the latter rambled from her\\nside, another inmate had been admitted within the circle\\nof the mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s feelings, and so modified the aspect of", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0261.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "THE SCARLET LETTEk.\\n2U\\nthem all, that Pearl, the returning wanderer, could not\\nfind her wonted place, and hardly knew where she was.\\nI have a strange fancy,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed the sensitive min-\\nister, \u00e2\u0080\u009cthat this brook is the boundary between two\\nworlds, and that thou canst never meet thy Pearl again\\nOr is she an elfish spirit, who, as the legends of our\\nchildhood taught us, is forbidden to cross a running\\nstream Pray hasten her for this delay has already\\nimparted a tremor to my nerves.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nCome, dearest child said Hester, encouragingly,\\nand stretching out both her arms. How slow thou\\nart! When hast thou been so sluggish before now?\\nHere is a friend of mine, who must be thy friend also.\\nThou wilt have twice as much love, henceforward, as\\nthy mother alone could give thee Leap across the\\nbrook, and come to us. Thou canst leap like a young\\ndeer\\nPearl, without responding in any manner to these\\nhoney-sweet expressions, remained on the other side of\\nthe brook. Now she fixed her bright, wild eyes on her\\nmother, now on the minister, and now included them\\nboth in the same glance as if to detect and explain to\\nherself the relation which they bore to one another.\\nFor some unaccountable reason, as Arthur Dimmesdale\\nfelt the child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eyes upon himself, his hand with that\\ngesture so habitual as to have become involuntary\\nstole over his heart. At length, assuming a singular\\nair of authority, Pearl stretched out her hand, with\\nthe small forefinger extended, and pointing ev lently\\ntowards her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s breast. And beneath, in the mir-\\nror of the brook, there was the flower-girdled and sunn\\nimage of little PeaA. pointing her small forefinger too.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0262.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "THE imiT.L AT THE BROOK-SIDE.\\n245\\nTnou strange cnnd, why dost thou not come to\\nme exclaimed Hester.\\nPearl still pointed with her forefinger and a frown\\ngathered on her brow; the more impressive from the\\nchildish, the almost baby-like aspect of the features that\\ncorn eyed it. As her mother still kept beckoning to her,\\nand arraying her face in a holiday suit of unaccustomed\\nsmiles, the child stamped her foot with a yet more impe-\\nrious look and gesture. In the brook, again, was the\\nfantastic beauty of the image, with its reflected frown, its\\npointed finger, and imperious gesture, giving emphasis\\nto the aspect of little Pearl.\\nHasten, Pearl or I shall be angry with thee\\ncried Hester Prynne, who, however inured to such\\nbehavior on the elf-child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s part at other seasons, was\\nnaturally anxious for a more seemly deportment now.\\nLeap across the brook, naughty child, and run hither\\nElse I must come to thee\\nBut Pearl, not a whit startled at her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s threats,\\nany more than mollified by her entreaties, now suddenly\\nburst into a fit of passion, gesticulating violently, and\\nthrowing her small figure into the most extravagant con-\\ntortions. She accompanied this wild outbreak with pierc-\\ning shrieks, which the woods reverberated on all sides\\nso that, alone as she was in her childish and unreasona-\\nble wrath, it seemed as if a hidden multitude were lend-\\ning her their sympathy and encouragement. Seen in\\nthe brook, once more, was the shadowy wrath of Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nimage, crowned and girdled with flowers, but stamping\\nits foot, wildly gesticulating, and, in the midst of ail,\\nBtiil pointing its small forefinger at Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom!\\n1 see what ails the child,\u00e2\u0080\u009d whispered Hester to tne", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0263.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "246\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nclergyman, and turning pale in spite of a strong effort\\nto conceal her trouble and annoyance. Children will\\nnot abide any, the slightest, change in the accustomed\\naspect of things that are daily before their eyes. Pearl\\nmisses something which she has always seen me wear\\nI pray you,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the minister, if thou hast\\nany means of pacifying the child, do it forthwith Save\\nit were the cankered wrath of an old witch, like Mistress\\nHibbins,\u00e2\u0080\u009d added he, attempting to smile, I know noth-\\ning that I would not sooner encounter than this passion\\nin a child. In Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s young beauty, as in the wrinkled\\nwitch, it has a preternatural effect. Pacify her, if thou\\nlovest me\\nHester turned again towards Pearl, with a crimson\\nblush upon her cheek, a conscious glance aside at the\\nclergyman, and then a heavy sigh while, even before\\nshe had time to speak, the blush yielded to a deadly\\npallor.\\nPearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, sadly, look down at thy feet\\nThere before thee on the hither side of the\\nbrook\\nThe child turned her eyes to the point indicated and\\nthere lay the scarlet letter, so close upon the margin of\\nthe stream, that the gold embroidery was reflected in it.\\nBring it hither said Hester.\\nCome thou and take it up answered Pearl.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWas ever such a child! observed Hester, aside to\\nthe minister. O, I have much to tell thee about her!\\nBut, in very truth, she is right as regards this hateful\\ntoken. I must bear its torture yet a little longer,\\nonly a few days longer, until we shall have left this\\nregion, and look back hither as to a land which ws have", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0264.jp2"}, "265": {"fulltext": "THE CUI^D AT THE BROOK-SIDE.\\n241\\ndreamed of. The forest cannot hide it The mid-ocean\\nshall take it from my hand, and swallow it up forever\\nWith these words, she advanced to the margin of the\\nbrook, took up the scarlet letter, and fastened it again\\ninto her bosom. Hopefully, but a moment ago, as\\nHester had spoken of drowning it in the deep sea, there\\nwas a sense of inevitable doom upon her, as she thus\\nreceived back this deadly symbol from the hand of fate.\\nShe had flung it into infinite space she had drawn\\nan hour\u00e2\u0080\u0099s free breath and here again was the scarlet\\nmisery, glittering on the old spot So it ever is, whether\\nthus typified or no, that an evil deed invests itself with\\nthe character of doom. Hester next gathered up the\\nheavy tresses of her hair, and confined them beneath her\\ncap. As if there were a withering spell in the sad let-\\nter, her beauty, the warmth and richness of her woman-\\nhood, departed, like fading sunshine; and a gray shadow\\nseemed to fall across her.\\nWhen the dreary change was wrought, she extended\\nher hand to Pearl.\\nDost thou know thy mother now, child asked\\nshe, reproachfully, but with a subdued tone. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWilt\\nthou come across the brook, and own thy mother, now\\nthat she has her shame upon her, now that she is\\nsad\\nYes now I will answered the child, bounding\\nacross the brook, and clasping Hester in her arms.\\nNow thou art my mother indeed And I am thy\\nlittle Pearl\\nIn a mood of tenderness that was not usual with her,\\nshe drew down her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s head, and kissed her brow\\nand both her cheeks. But then by a kiuu of neces", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0265.jp2"}, "266": {"fulltext": "248\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nsity that always impelled this child to alJoy whatever\\ncomfort she might chance to give with a throb of an*\\nguish Pearl put up her mouth, and kissed the scarlet\\nletter too\\nThat was not kind said Hester. When thou\\nhast shown me a little love, thou mockest me\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhy doth the minister sit yonder asked Pearl.\\nHe waits to welcome thee,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied her mother.\\nCome thou, and entreat his blessing He loves thee.,\\nmy little Pearl, and loves thy mother too. Wilt thou\\nnot love him Come he longs to greet thee\\nDoth he love us said Pearl, looking up, with\\nacute intelligence, into her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face. Will he go\\nback with us, hand in hand, we three together, into the\\ntown\\nNot now, dear child,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hester. But in\\ndays to come he will walk hand in hand with us. We\\nwill have a home and fireside of our own and thou\\nshalt sit upon his knee and he will teach thee many\\nthings, and love thee dearly. Thou wilt love him wilt\\nthou not\\nAnd will he always keep his hand over his heart\\ninquired Pearl.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cFoolish child, what a question is that!\u00e2\u0080\u009d exclaimed\\nher mother. Come and ask his blessing\\nBut, whether influenced by the jealousy that seems\\ninstinctive with every petted child towards a dangerous\\nrival, or from whatever caprice of her freakish nature,\\nPearl wouid show no favor to the clergyman. It was\\nonly by an exertion of force that her mother brought\\nher up to him, hanging back, and manifesting her reluc*\\ntance by odd grimaces of which, ever since her baby", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0266.jp2"}, "267": {"fulltext": "HIE CHILD AT THE BROOK-SIDE. 210\\nhood, she had possessed a singular variety, and could\\ntransform her mobile physiognomy into a series of differ-\\nent aspects, with a new mischief in them, each and all.\\nThe minister painfully embarrassed, but hoping that\\na ldss might prove a talisman to admit him intc the\\nchild\u00e2\u0080\u0099s kindlier regards bent forward, and impressed\\none on her brow. Hereupon, Pearl broke away frcm\\nher mother, and, running to the brook, stooped over it,\\nand bathed her forehead, until the unwelcome kiss was\\nquite washed off, and diffused through a long lapse of\\nthe gliding water. She then remained apart, silently\\nwatching Hester and the clergyman while they talked\\ntogether, and made such arrangements as were sug-\\ngested by their new position, and the purposes soon to\\nbe fulfilled.\\nAnd now this fateful interview had come to a close.\\nThe dell was to be left a solitude among its dark, old\\ntrees, which, with their multitudinous tongues, would\\nwhisper long of what had passed there, and no mortal\\nbe the wiser. And the melancholy brook would add this\\nother tale to the mystery with which its little heart was\\nalready overburdened, and whereof it still kept up a mur-\\nmuring babble, with not a whit more cheerfulness of tens\\nthan for ages heretofore.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0267.jp2"}, "268": {"fulltext": "250\\nTHE SCARLET LETT S3..\\nXX.\\nTHE MINISTER IN A MAZE.\\nAs the minister departed, in advance of Hester Prynne\\nand little Pearl, he threw a backward glance half ex-\\npecting that he should discover only some faintly traced\\nfeatures or outline of the mother and the child, slowly\\nfading into the twilight of the woods. So great a vicis-\\nsitude in his life could not at once be received as real.\\nBut there was Hester, clad in her gray robe, still stand-\\ning beside the tree-trunk, which some blast had over-\\nthrown a long antiquity ago, and which time had ever\\nsince been covering with moss, so that these two fated\\nones, with earth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heaviest burden on them, might there\\nsit down together, and find a single hour\u00e2\u0080\u0099s rest and\\nsolace. And there was Pearl, too, lightly dancing from\\nthe margin of the brook, now that the intrusive third\\nperson was gone, and taking her old place by hei\\nmother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s side. So the minister had not fallen asleep,\\nand dreamed\\nIn order to free his mind from this indistinctness and\\nduplicity of impression, which vexed it with a strange\\ndisquietude, he recalled and more thoroughly defined\\nthe plans which Hester and himself had sketched foi\\ntheir departure. It had been determined between them,\\nthat the Old World, with its crowds and cities, offered\\nthem a more eligible shelter and concealment than the\\nwilds of New England, or all America, with its alter-\\nnatives of an Indian wigwam, or the few settlements of", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0268.jp2"}, "269": {"fulltext": "THE MINISTER IN A MAZE.\\n251\\nEuropeans, scattered thinly along the seaboard. Not\\nto speak of the clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s health, so inadequate to sus-\\ntain the hardships of a forest life, his native gifts, his\\nculture, and his entire development, would secure him a\\nhome only in the midst of civilization and refinement\\nthe higher the state, the more delicately adapted to it\\nthe man. In furtherance of this choice, it so happened\\nthat a ship lay in the harbor one of those questionable\\ncruisers, frequent at that day, which, without being ab-\\nsolutely outlaws of the deep, yet roamed over its surface\\nwith a remarkable irresponsibility of character. This\\nvessel had recently arrived from the Spanish Main, and,\\nwithin three days\u00e2\u0080\u0099 time, would sail for Bristol. Hester\\nPrynne whose vocation, as a self-enlisted Sister of\\nCharity, had brought her acquainted with the captain\\nand crew could take upon herself to secure the pas-\\nsage of two individuals and a child, with all the secrecy\\nwhich circumstances rendered more than desirable.\\nThe minister had inquired of Hester, with no little\\ninterest, the precise time at which the vessel might be\\nexpected to depart. It would probably be on the fourth\\nday from the present. That is most fortunate he\\nhad then said to himself. Now, why the Reverend Mr.\\nDimmesdale considered it so very fortunate, we hesitate\\nto reveal. Nevertheless, to hold nothing back from\\nthe reader, it was because, on the third day from the\\npresent, he was to preach the Election Sermon; and, as\\nsuch an occasion formed an honorable epoch in the life\\nof a New England clergyman, he could not have chanced\\nupon a more suitable mode and time of terminating his\\nprofessional career. At least, they shall say ol me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nthought this exemplary man, that I leave no public", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0269.jp2"}, "270": {"fulltext": "252\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nduty unperformed, nor ill performed Sad, indeed,\\nthat an introspection so profound and acute as this poor\\nminicter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s should be so miserably deceived We have\\nhad, and may still have, worse things to tell of him; but\\nnone, we apprehend, so pitiably weak no evidence, at\\nonce so slight and irrefragable, of a subtle disease, that\\nhad long since begun to eat into the real substance of\\nhis character. No man, for any considerable period, can\\nwear one face to himself, and another to the multitude,\\nwithout finally getting bewildered as to which may be\\nthe true.\\nThe excitement of Mr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s feelings, as he\\nreturned from his interview with Hester, lent him unac-\\ncustomed physical energy, and hurried him townward at\\nh rapid pace. The pathway among the woods seemed\\nwilder, morp uncouth with its rude natural obstacles, and\\nless trodden by the foot of man, than he remembered it\\non his outward journey. But he leaped across the plashy\\nplaces, thrust himself through the clinging underbrush,\\nclimbed the ascent, plunged into the hollow, and over-\\ncame, in short, all the difficulties of the track, with an\\nunweariable activity that astonished him. He could not\\nbut recall how feebly, and with what frequent pauses foi\\nbreath, he had toiled over the same ground, only two\\ndays before. As he drew near the town, he took an\\nimpression of change from the series of familiar objects\\nthat presented themselves. It seemed not yesterday, not\\none, nor two, but many days, or even years ago, since\\nhe had quitted them. There, indeed, was each former\\ntrace of the street, as he remembered it, and all the pecu-\\nliarities of the houses, with the due multitude of gable-\\npeaks, and a weather-cock at every point where his", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0270.jp2"}, "271": {"fulltext": "THE MINISTER IN A MAZE.\\n253\\nmemory suggested one. Not tlie less, however, came\\nthis importunately obtrusive sense of change. The same\\nwas true as regarded the acquaintances whom he met,\\nand all the well-known shapes of human life, about the\\nlittle town. They looked neither older nor jounger\\nnow the beards of the aged were no whiter, nor could\\nthe creeping babe of yesterday walk on his feet to-day\\nit was impossible to describe in what respect they differed\\nfrom the individuals on whom he had so recently be-\\nstowed a parting glance and yet the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s deepest\\nsense seemed to inform him of their mutability. A sim-\\nilar impression struck him most remarkably, as he passed\\nunder the walls of his own church. The edifice had so\\nvery strange, and yet so familiar, an aspect, that Mr.\\nDimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mind vibrated between two ideas either\\nthat he had seen it only in a dream hitherto, or that he\\nwas merely dreaming about it now.\\nThis phenomenon, in the various shapes which it as-\\nsumed, indicated no external change, but so sudden and\\nimportant a change in the spectator of the familiar scene,\\nthat the intervening space of a single day had operated\\non his consciousness like the lapse of years. The min-\\nister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own will, and Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s will, and the fate that grew\\nbetween them, had wrought this transformation. It was\\nthe same town as heretofore; but the same minister\\nreturned not from the forest. He might have said to the\\nfriends who greeted him, \u00e2\u0080\u009clam not the man for whom\\nyou take me I left him yonder in the forest, withdrawn\\ninto a secret deli, by a mossy tree-trunk, and near a mel-\\nancholy brook Go, seek your minister, and see if his\\nemaciated figure, his thin cheek, his white, heavy, pain-\\nwrinkled brow, be not flung down there, like a cast-off", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0271.jp2"}, "272": {"fulltext": "254\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER\\ngarment!\u00e2\u0080\u009d His friends, no doubt, would still have in\u00c2\u00ab\\nsisted with him, Thou art thyself the man but\\nthe error would have been their own, not his.\\nBefore Mr. Dimmesdale reached home, his inner man\\ngave him other evidences of a revolution in the sphere\\nof thought and feeling. In truth, nothing short of a total\\nchange of dynasty and moral code, in that interior king-\\ndom, was adequate to account for the impulses now com-\\nmunicated to the unfortunate and startled minister. At\\nevery step he was incited to do some strange, wild,\\nwicked thing or other, with a sense that it would be at\\nonce involuntary and intentional in spite of himself, yet\\ngrowing out of a profounder self than that which opposed\\nthe impulse. For instance, he met one of his own dea-\\ncons. The good old man addressed him with the pater-\\nnal affection and patriarchal privilege, which his venera-\\nble age, his upright and holy character, and his station\\nin the Churcii, entitled him to use and, conjoined with\\nthis, the deep, almost worshipping respect, which the\\nminister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s professional and private claims alike demanded.\\nNever was there a more beautiful example of how the\\nmajesty of age and wisdom may comport with the obei-\\nsance and respect enjoined upon it, as from a lower social\\nrank, and inferior order of endowment, towards a higher.\\nNow, during a conversation of some two or three moments\\nbetween the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale and this excellent\\nand hoary-bearded deacon, it was only by the most care-\\nful self-control that the former could refrain from uttering\\ncertain blasphemous suggestions that rose into his mind,\\nrespecting the communion-supptr. He absolutely trem\\nbled and turned pale as ashes, lest his tongue should\\nwag itself, in utterance of these horrible matters, and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0272.jp2"}, "273": {"fulltext": "THE MINISTER IN A MAZE.\\n255\\nplead his ovvn consent for so doing, without his having\\nfairly given it. And, even with this terror in his heart\\nhe could hardly avoid laughing, to imagine how the sanc-\\ntified old patriarchal deacon would have been petrified\\nby his minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s impiety\\nAgain, another incident of the same nature. Hurry-\\ning along the street, the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale\\nencountered the eldest female member of his church a\\nmost pious and exemplary old dame poor, widowed,\\nlonely, and with a heart as full of reminiscences about\\nher dead husband and children, and her dead friends of\\nlong ago, as a burial-ground is full of storied grave-\\nstones. Yet all this, which would else have been such\\nheavy sorrow, was made almost a solemn joy to her\\ndevout old soul, by religious consolations and the truths\\nof Scripture, wherewith she had fed herself continually\\nfor more than thirty years. And, since Mr. Dimmesdale\\nhad taken her in charge, the good grandam\u00e2\u0080\u0099s chief earthly\\ncomfort which, unless it had been likewise a heavenly\\ncomfort, could have been none at all was to meet her\\npastor, whether casually, or of set purpose, and be re-\\nfreshed with a word of warm, fragrant, heaven-breathing\\nGospel truth, from his beloved lips, into her dulled, but\\nrapturously attentive ear. But, on this occasion, up to\\nthe moment of putting his lips to the old woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ear,\\nMr. Dimmesdale, as the great enemy of souls would\\nha ire it, could recall no text of Scripture, nor aught else,\\nexcept a brief, pithy, and, as it then appeared to him,\\nunanswerable argument against the immortality of the\\nauman soul. The instilment thereof into her mind\\nwould probably have caused this aged sister to drop\\ndown dead, at once, as by the effect of an intensely pci", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0273.jp2"}, "274": {"fulltext": "2!j6 the SCARLET LETTER.\\nsonous infusion. What he really did whisper, the mils\\nister could never afterwards recollect There was, per-\\nhaps, a fortunate disorder in his utterance, which failea\\nto impart any distinct idea to the good widow\u00e2\u0080\u0099s compre-\\nhension, or which Providence interpreted after a method\\nof its own. Assuredly, as the minister looked back, he\\nbeheld an expression of divine gratitude and ecstasy that\\nseemed like the shine of the celestial city on her face, so\\nwrinkled and ashy pale.\\nAgain, a third instance. After parting from the old\\nchurch-member, he met the youngest sister of them all.\\nIt was a maiden newly won and won by the Reverend\\nMr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own sermon, on the Sabbath after his\\nvigil to barter the transitory pleasures of the world for\\nthe heavenly hope, that was to assume brighter substance\\nas life grew dark around her, and which w r ould gild the\\nutter gloom with final glory. She was fair and pure as\\na lily that had bloomed in Paradise. The minister knew\\nwell that he was himself enshrined within the stainless\\nsanctity of her heart, which hung its snowy curtains\\nabout his image, imparting to religion the warmth of\\nlove, and to love a religious purity. Satan, that after-\\nnoon, had surely led the poor young girl away from her\\nmother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s side, and thrown her into the pathway of this\\nsorely tempted, or shall we not rather say this lost\\nand desperate man. As she drew nigh, the arch-fiend\\nwhispered him to condense into small compass and drop\\ninto her tender bosom a germ of evil that would be sure\\nto blossom darkly soon, and bear black fruit betimes\\nSuch was his sense of power over tfiis virgin soul, trust-\\ning him as she did, that the minister felt potent to blight\\nall the field of innocence with but one wicked look, and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0274.jp2"}, "275": {"fulltext": "THE MINISTER IN A MAZE. if\u00c2\u00a3l\\ndevelop all its opposite with but p. word. So with a\\nmightier struggle th am he had yet sustained he held\\nhis Geneva cloak before his face, and hurried onward,\\nmaking no sign of recognition, and leaving the young\\nsister to digest his rudeness as she might. She ran-\\nsacked her conscience, which was full of harmless lit-\\ntl 3 matters, like her pocket or her work-bag, and took\\nherself to task, poor thing for a thousand imaginary\\nfaults and went about her household duties with swol-\\nlen eyelids the next morning.\\nBefore the minister had time to celebrate his victory\\naver this last temptation, he was conscious of another\\nimpulse, more ludicrous, and almost as horrible. It was,\\nwe blush to tell it, it was to stop short in the road,\\nand teach some very wicked words to a knot of little\\nPuritan children who were playing there, and had but\\njust begun to talk. Denying himself this freak, as\\nunwortny of his cloth, he met a drunken seaman, one of\\nthe ship\u00e2\u0080\u0099s crew from the Spanish Main. And, here,\\nsince he had so valiantly forborne all other wickedness,\\npoor Mr. Dimmesdale longed, at least, to shake hands\\nwith the tarry blackguard, and recreate himself with a\\nfew improper jests, such as dissolute sailors so abound\\nwith, and a volley of good, round solid, satisfactory, and\\nheaven-defying oaths It was not so much a better\\nprinciple as partly his natural good taste, and still more\\nhis buckramed habit of clerical decorum, that carried him\\nsafely through the latter crisis.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhat is it that haunts and tempts me thus?\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried\\nthe minister to himself, at length, pausing in the street,\\nand striking his hand against his forehead. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAm l\\nmad? or am I given over utterly to the fiend\u00e2\u0080\u0099 Did 1\\n17", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0275.jp2"}, "276": {"fulltext": "THE. SCARLET LETTER.\\n258 s\\nmake a contract With ,hjm in the forest, and sign it with\\nmy blood And does he now summon me to its fulfil*\\nment, by suggesting the performance of every wickedness\\nwhich his most foul imagination can conceive\\nAt the moment when the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdaie\\nthus communed with himself, and struck hfs forehead\\nwith his hand, old Mistress Hibbins, the reputed witch-\\nlady, is said to have been passing by. She made a\\nvery grand appearance; having on a high head-dress,\\na rich gown of velvet, and a ruff done up with the\\nfamous yellow starch, of which Ann Turner, her especial\\nfriend, had taught her the secret, before this last good\\nlady had been hanged for Sir Thomas Overbury \u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nmurder. Whether the witch had read the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nthoughts, or no, she came to a full stop, looked shrewdly\\ninto his face, smiled craftily, and though little given\\nto converse with clergymen began a conversation.\\nSo, reverend Sir, you have made a visit into the\\nforest,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed the witch-lady, nodding her high head-\\ndress at him.- The next time, I pray you to allow me\\nonly a fair warning, and I shall be proud to bear you\\ncompany. Without taking overmuch upon myself, my\\ngood word will go far towards gaining any strange gentle-\\nman a fair reception from yonder potentate you wot of!\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cI profess, madam,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the clergyman, with\\na grave obeisance, such as the lady\u00e2\u0080\u0099s rank demanded,\\nand his own good-breeding made imperative, \u00e2\u0080\u009cI pro-\\nfess, on my conscience and character, that I am utterly\\nbewildered as touching the purport of your words j\\nwent not into the forest to seek a potentate neither do\\nI, at any future time, design a visit thither, with a view\\nto gaining the favor of such personage. My one suffi", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0276.jp2"}, "277": {"fulltext": "THE MINISTER IN A MAZE.\\n259\\nclent object was to greet that pious friend of mine, the\\nApostle Eliot, and rejoice with him over the many\\nprecious souls he hath won from heathendom\\nHa, ha, ha cackled the old witch-lady, still nod-\\nding her high head-dress at the minister. Well, well,\\nwe must needs talk thus in the daytime You carry\\nit off lik*\u00c2\u00bb an old hand! But at midnight, and in the\\nforest, we shall have other talk together\\nShe passed on with her aged stateliness, but often\\nturning back her head and smiling at him, like one\\nwilling to recognize a secret intimacy of connection.\\nHave I then sold myself,\u00e2\u0080\u009d thought the minister, to\\nthe fiend whom, if men say true, this yellow-starched\\nand velveted old hag has chosen for her prince and\\nmaster\\nThe wretched minister! He had made a bargain\\nvery like it! Tempted by a dream of happiness, he\\nhad yielded himself, with deliberate choice, as he had\\nnever done before, to what he knew was deadly sin.\\nAnd the infectious poison of that sin had been thus\\nrapidly diffused throughout his moral system. It had\\nstupefied all blessed impulses, and awakened into vivid\\nlife the whole brotherhood of bad ones. Scorn, bitter-\\nness, unprovoked malignity, gratuitous desire of ill,\\nridicule of whatever was good and holy, all awoke, to\\ntempt, even while they frightened him. And his en-\\ncounter with old Mistress Hibbins, if it were a real\\nincident, did but show his sympathy and fellowship with\\nwicked mortals, and the world of perverted spirits.\\nHe had, by this time, reached his dwelling, on the\\nedge of the burial-ground, and, hastening up the stairs,\\ntook refuge in his study. The minister was glad to", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0277.jp2"}, "278": {"fulltext": "w60\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nhave reached this shelter, without first betraying him-\\nself to the world by any of those strange and wicked\\neccentricities to which he had been continually impelled\\nwhile passing through the streets. He entered the\\naccustomed room, and looked around him on its books,\\nits windows, its fireplace, and the tapestried comfort of\\nthe walls, with the same perception of strangeness that\\nhad haunted him throughout his walk from the forest-\\ndell into the town, and thitherward. Here he had\\nstudied and written here, gone through fast and vigil,\\nmd come forth half alive here, striven to pray here,\\nborne a hundred thousand agonies! There was the\\nBible, in its rich old Hebrew, with Moses and the Proph-\\nets speaking to him, and God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice through all!\\nThere, on the table, with the inky pen beside it, was an\\nunfinished sermon, with a sentence broken in the midst,\\nwhere his thoughts had ceased to gush out upon the\\npage, two days before. He knew that it was himself,\\nthe thin and white-cheeked minister, who had done and\\nsuffered these things, and written thus far into the Elec-\\ntion Sermon But he seemed to stand apart, and eye\\nthis former self with scornful, pitying, but half-envious\\ncuriosity. That self was gone. Another man had re-\\nturned out of the forest a wiser one with a knowledge\\nof hidden mysteries which the simplicity of the former\\nnever could have reached. A bitter kind of knowledge\\nthat\\nWhile occupied with these reflections, a knock came\\nat the door of the study, and the minister said, Come\\nin!\u00e2\u0080\u009d not wholly devoid of an idea that he might\\nbehold an evil spirit. And so he did It was old Roger\\nChillingworlh that entered. The minister stood, white", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0278.jp2"}, "279": {"fulltext": "THE MINISTER IN A MAZE.\\n261\\nand uDecchless, with one hand on the Hebrew Scriptures,\\nand the other spread upon his breast.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWelcome home, reverend Sir,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the physician.\\nAnd how found you that godly man, the Apostle Eliot 1\\nBut methinks, dear Sir, you look pale as if the travel\\nthrough the wilderness had been too sore for you. Will\\nnot my aid be requisite to put you in heart and strength\\nto preach your Election Sermon\\nNay, I think not so,\u00e2\u0080\u009d rejoined the Reverend Mr.\\nDimmesdale. My journey, and the sight of the holy\\nApostle yonder, and the free air which I have breathed,\\nhave done me good, after so long confinement in my\\nstudy. I think to need no more of your drugs, my kind\\nphysician, good though they he, and administered by a\\nfriendly hand.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAll this time, Roger Chillingworth was looking at the\\nminister with the grave and intent regard of a physician\\ntowards his patient. But, in spite of this outward show,\\nthe latter was almost convinced of the old man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s know?*\\nedge, or, at least, his confident suspicion, with respect to\\nhis own interview with Hester Prynne. The physician\\nknew then, that, in the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s regard, he was no\\nlonger a trusted friend, but his bitterest enemy. So\\nmuch being known, it would appear natural that a part\\nof it should be expressed. It is singular, however, how\\nlong a time often passes before words embody things\\nand with what security two persons, who choose to avoid\\na certain subject, may approach its very verge, and retire\\nwithout disturbing it. Thus, the minister felt no ap-\\nprehension that Roger Chillingworth would touch, in\\nexpress words, upon the real position which they sus", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0279.jp2"}, "280": {"fulltext": "262\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\ntained towards one another. Yet did the physician, lr\\nHis dark way, creep frightfully near the secret.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWere it not better,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, \u00e2\u0080\u009cthat you use my\\npoor skill to-night? Verily, dear Sir, we must take\\npains to make you strong and vigorous for this occasion\\nof the Election discourse. The people look for great\\nthings from you; apprehending that another year may\\ncome about, and find their pastor gone.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYea, to another world,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied the minister, with\\npious resignation. \u00e2\u0080\u009cHeaven grant it be a better one;\\nfor, in good sooth, I hardly think to tarry with my flock\\nthrough the flitting seasons of another year! But,\\ntouching your medicine, kind Sir, in my present frame\\nof body, I need it not.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI joy to hear it,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered the physician. It may\\nbe that my remedies, so long administered in vain, begin\\nnow to take due effect. Happy man were I, and well\\ndeserving of New England\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gratitude, could I achieve\\nthis cure\\nI thank you from my heart, most watchful friend,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nsaid the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale, with a solemn\\nsmile. I thank you, and tan but requite your good\\ndeeds with my prayers.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nA good man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s prayers are golden recompense r\\nrejoined old Roger Chillingworth, as he took his leave.\\nYea, they are the current gold coin of the New Jeru-\\nsalem, with the King\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own mint-mark on them\\nLeft alone, the minister summoned a servant of the\\nhouse, and requested food, which, being set before him\\nhe ate with ravenous appetite. Then, flinging the\\nalready written pages of the Election Sermon into the\\nfire, he forthwith began another, which he wrote with", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0280.jp2"}, "281": {"fulltext": "THE MINISTER IN A MAZE. Sfifl\\nsuch an impulsive flow of thought and emotion, that\\nhe fancied himself inspired; and only wondered that\\nHeaven should see fit to transmit the grand and solemn\\nmusic of its oracles through so foul an organ-pipe as he.\\nHowever, leaving that mystery to solve itself, or go un-\\nsolved forever, he drove his task onward, with earnest\\nhaste and ecstasy. Thus the night fled away, as if it\\nwere a winged steed, and he careering on it; morning\\ncame, and peeped, blushing, through the curtains and\\nat last sunrise threw a golden beam into the study and\\nlaid it right across the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bedazzled eyes. There\\nhe was, with the pen still between his fingers, and a vast,\\nimmeasuiable tract of written space behind him l", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0281.jp2"}, "282": {"fulltext": "264\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER\\nXXI.\\nTHE NEW ENGLAND HOLIDAY.\\nBetimes in the morning of the day on which the new\\nGovernor was to receive his office at the hands of the\\npeople, Hester Prynne and little Pearl came into the\\nmarket-place. It was already thronged with the crafts-\\nmen and other plebeian inhabitants of the town, in con-\\nsiderable numbers among whom, likewise, were many\\nrough figures, whose attire of deer-skins marked them\\nas belonging to some of the forest settlements, which\\nsurrounded the little metropolis of the colony.\\nOn this public holiday, as on all other occasions, for\\nseven years past, Hester was clad in a garment of\\ncoarse gray cloth. Not more by its hue than by some\\nindescribable peculiarity in its fashion, it had the effect\\nof making her fade personally out of sight and outline\\nwhile, again, the scarlet letter brought her back from\\nthis twilight indistinctness, and revealed her under the\\nmoral aspect of its own illumination. Her face, so long\\nfamiliar to the townspeople, showed the marble quietude\\nwhich they were accustomed to behold there. It was\\nlike a mask or, rather, like the frozen calmness of a\\ndead woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s features owing this dreary resemblance\\nto the fact that Hester was actually dead, in respect to\\nany claim of sympathy, and had departed out of the\\nworld with which she still seemed to mingle.\\nIt might be, on this one day, that there was an ex\\npression unseen before, nor, indeed, vivid enough to", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0282.jp2"}, "283": {"fulltext": "THE NEW ENGLAND HOLIDAY.\\n265\\nbe detected now unless some preternaturally gifted\\nobserver should have first read the heart, and have\\nafterwards sought a corresponding development in the\\ncountenance and mien. Such a spiritual seer might\\nhave conceived, that, after sustaining the gaze of the\\nmultitude through seven miserable years as a necessity,\\na penance, and something which it was a stem religion\\nto endure, she now, for one last time more, encountered\\nit freely and voluntarily, in order to convert what had so\\nlong been agony into a kind of triumph. Look your\\nlast on the scarlet letter and its wearer the people\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nvictim and life-long bond-slave, as they fancied her,\\nmight say to them. \u00e2\u0080\u009cYet a little while, and she will\\nbe beyond your reach A few hours longer, and the\\ndeep, mysterious ocean will quench and hide forever the\\nsymbol which ye have caused to bum upon her bosom\\nNor were it an inconsistency too improbable to be as-\\nsigned to human nature, should we suppose a feeling of\\nregret in Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mind, at the moment when she was\\nabout to win her freedom from the pain which had been\\nthus deeply incorporated with her being. Might there\\nnot be an irresistible desire to quaff a last, long, breath-\\nless draught of the cup of wormwood and aloes, with\\nwhich nearly all her years of womanhood had been per-\\npetually flavored The wine of life, henceforth to be\\npresented to her lips, must be indeed rich, delicious, and\\nexhilarating, in its chased and golden beaker; or else\\nleave an inevitable and weary languor, after the lees of\\nbitterness wherewith she had beer dmgged, as with a\\ncordial of intensest potency.\\nPearl was decked out with airy gayety. It would\\nDave been mpossible to guess that this bright and", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0283.jp2"}, "284": {"fulltext": "200\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nsunny apparition owed its existence to the shu|Ki of\\ngloomy gray or that a fancy, at once so gorgeous and\\nso delicate as must have been requisite to contrive the\\nchild\u00e2\u0080\u0099s apparel, was the same that had achieved a task\\nperhaps more difficult, in imparting so distinct a peculiar-\\nity to Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s simple robe. The dress, so proper was it\\nto little Pearl, seemed an effluence, or inevitable devel-\\nopment and outward manifestation of her character, no\\nmore to be separated from her than the many hued brb\\nliancy from a butterfly\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wing, or the painted glory from\\nthe leaf of a bright flower. As with these, so with the\\nchild her garb was all of one idea with her nature. On\\nthis eventful day, moreover, there was a certain singular\\ninquietude and excitement in her mood, resembling\\nnothing so much as the shimmer of a diamond, that\\nsparkles and flashes with the varied throbbings of the\\nbreast on which it is displayed. Children have always\\na sympathy in the agitations of those connected with\\nthem always, especially, a sense of any trouble or im-\\npending revolution, of whatever kind, in domestic cir-\\ncumstances and therefore Pearl, who was the gem on\\nher mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s unquiet bosom, betrayed, by the very dance\\nof her spirits, the emotions whirh none could detect in\\nthe marble passiveness of Hester s brow.\\nThis effervescence made her flit with a birdlike move-\\nment, rather than walk by her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s side. She broke\\ncontinually into shouts of a wild, inarticulate, and some-\\ntimes piercing music. When they reached the market-\\nplace, s_ie became still more restless, on perceiving the\\nstir and bustle that enlivened the spot; for it was\\nusually more like the broad and lonesome green before", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0284.jp2"}, "285": {"fulltext": "THE NEW ENGLAND HOLIDAY.\\n261\\nk village meeting-house, than the centre of a town s\\nbusiness.\\nWhy, what is this, mother cried she. Where-\\nfore have all the people left their work to-day Is it a\\nplay-day for the whole world See, there is the black-\\nsmith He has washed his sooty face, and put on his\\nSabbath-day clothes, and looks as if he would gladly be\\nmerry, if any kind body would only teach him how\\nAnd there is Master Brackett, the old jailer, nodding\\nand smiling at me. Why does he do so, mother\\nHe remembers thee a little babe, my child,\u00e2\u0080\u009d an-\\nswered Hester.\\nHe should not nod and smile at me, for all that,\\nthe black, grim, ugly-eyed old man said Pearl. He\\nmay nod at thee, if he will for thou art clad in gray,\\nand wearest the scarlet letter. But see, mother, how\\nmany faces of strange people, and Indians among them,\\nand sailors What have they all come to do, here in\\nthe market-place\\nThey wait to see the procession pass,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hester.\\nFor the Governor and the magistrates are to go by, and\\nthe ministers, and all the great people and good people,\\nwith the music and the soldiers marching before them.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd will the minister be there asked Pearl. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd\\nwill he hold out both his hands to me, as when thou ledst\\nme to him from the brook-side\\nHe will be there, child,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered her mother.\\nBut he will not greet thee to-day nor must thou\\ngreet him.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhat a strange, sad man is he said the child, as\\nif speaking partly to herself. In the dark night-time\\nbe calls us to him, and holds thy hand and mine, aj", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0285.jp2"}, "286": {"fulltext": "THE SCARLET LETTER.\\n263\\nwhen we stood with him on the scaffold yonder Ana\\nin the deep forest, where only the old trees can heai,and\\nthe strip of sky see it, he talks with thee, sitting on a\\nheap of moss And he kisses my forehead, too, so that\\nthe little brook would hardly wash it off! But here, in\\nthe sunny day, and among all the people, he knows us\\nnot nor must we know him A strange, sad man is\\nhe, with his hand always over his heart\\nBe quiet, Pearl Thou understandest not these\\nthings,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said her mother. Think not now of the min-\\nister, but look about thee, and see how cheery is every-\\nbody\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face to-day. The children have come from their\\nschools, and the grown people from their workshops and\\ntheir fields, on purpose to be happy. For, to-day, a new\\nman is beginning to rule over them and so as has\\nbeen the custom of mankind ever since a nation was first\\ngathered they make merry and rejoice as if a good\\nand golden year were at length to pass over the poor old\\nworld!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt was as Hester said, in regard to the unwonted jol-\\nlity that brightened the faces of the people. Into this\\nfestal season of the year as it already was, and con-\\ntinued to be during the greater part of two centuries\\nthe Puritans compressed whatever mirth and public jo/\\nthey deemed allowable to human infirmity thereby so\\nfar dispelling the customary cloud, that, for the space of\\ni single holiday, they appeared scarcely more grave\\nthan most other communities at a period of general\\naffliction.\\nBut we perhaps exaggerate the gray or sable tinge,\\nwhich undoubtedly characterized the mood and manners\\nof the age. The persons now in the market-place of", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0286.jp2"}, "287": {"fulltext": "THE NEW ENGLAND HOLIDAY.\\nacy\\nBostou had not been bom to an inheritance of Puritanic\\ngloom. They were native Englishmen, whose fathers\\nhad lived in the sunny richness of the Elizabethan epoch\\na time when the life of England, viewed as one great\\nmass, would appear to have been as stately magnificent,\\nand joyous, as the world has ever witnessed. Had they\\nfollowed their hereditary taste, the New England settlers\\nwould have illustrated all events of public importance by\\nbonfires, banquets, pageantries, and processions. Nor\\nwould it have been impracticable, in the observance of\\nmajestic ceremonies, to combine mirthful recreation with\\nsolemnity, and give, as it were, a grotesque and brilliant\\nembroidery to the great robe of state, which a nation, at\\nsuch festivals, puts on. There was some shadow of an\\nattempt of this kind in the mode of celebrating the day\\non which the political year of the colony commenced.\\nThe dim reflection of a remembered splendor, a colorless\\nand manifold diluted repetition of what they had beheld\\nin proud old London, we will not say at a royal coro-\\nnation, but at a Lord Mayor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s show, might be traced\\nin the customs which our forefathers instituted, with\\nreference to the annual installation of magistrates. The\\nfathers and founders of the commonwealth the states-\\nman, the priest, and the soldier deemed it a duty then\\nto assume the outward state and majesty, which, in\\naccordance with antique style, was looked upon as the\\nproper garb of public or social eminence. All came\\nforth, to move in procession before the people\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eye, and\\nthus impart a needed dignity to the simple framework of\\na government so newly constructed.\\nThen, too, the people were countenanced, if not\\nencouraged in relaxing the severe and close application", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0287.jp2"}, "288": {"fulltext": "270\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nto their various modes of rugged industry, whu,h, at all\\nother times, seemed of the same piece and material with\\ntheir religion. Here, it is true, were none of the appli*\\nances which popular merriment would so readily have\\nfound in the England of Elizabeth s time, or that of\\nJames; no rude shows of a theatrical kind; no min-\\nstrel, with his harp and legendary ballad, nor gleeman,\\nwith an ape dancing to his music no juggler, with his\\ntricks of mimic witchcraft no Merry Andrew, to stir up\\nthe multitude with jests, perhaps hundreds of years old,\\nbut still effective, by their appeals to the very broadest\\nsources of mirthful sympathy. All such professors of\\nthe several brandies of jocularity would have been\\nsternly repressed, not only by the rigid discipline of law,\\nbut by the general sentiment which gives law its vitality.\\nNot the less, however, the great, honest face of the peo-\\nple smiled, grimly, perhaps, but widely too. Nor were\\nsports wanting, such as the colonists had witnessed, and\\nshared in, long ago, at the country fairs and on the\\nvillage-greens of England and which it was thought\\nwell to keep alive on this new soil, for the sake of the\\ncourage and manliness that were essential in them.\\nWrestling-matches, in the different fashions of Cornwall\\nand Devonshire, were seen here and there about the\\nmarket-place in one corner, there was a friendly bout\\nat quarterstaff; and what attracted most interest of\\nall on the platform of the pillory, already so noted in\\nour pages, two masters of defence were commencing an\\nexhibition with the buckler and broadsword. But, much\\nto the disappointment of the crowd, this latter business\\nwas broken off by the interposition of the town beadle,\\nwno had no idea of permitting the majesty of the law to", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0288.jp2"}, "289": {"fulltext": "THE NEW ENGLAND HOLIDAY\\n271\\noe violated by such an abuse of one of its consecrated\\nplaces.\\nIt may not be too much to affirm, on the whole, (the\\npeople being then in the first stages of joyless deport-\\nment, and the offspring of sires who had known how\\nto be merry, in their day,) that they would compare\\nfavorably, in point of holiday keeping, with their de-\\nscendants, even at so long an interval as ourselves.\\nTheir immediate posterity, the generation next to the\\nearly emigrants, wore the blackest shade of Puritan-\\nism, and so darkened the national visage with it, that\\nnil the subsequent years have not sufficed to clear it\\nup. We have yet to learn again the forgotten art of\\ngayety.\\nThe picture of human life in the market-place, though\\nits general tint was the sad gray, brown, or black of the\\nEnglish emigrants, was yet enlivened by some diversity\\nof hue. A party of Indians in their savage finery of\\ncuriously embroidered deer-skin robes, wampum-belts,\\nred and yellow ochre, and feathers, and armed with the\\nbow and arrow and stone-headed spear stood apart,\\nwith countenances of inflexible gravity, beyond what\\neven the Puntan aspect could attain. Nor, wild as were\\nthese painted barbarians, were they the wildest feature\\nof the scene. This distinction could more justly be\\nclaimed by some mariners, a part of the crew of the\\nvessel from the Spanish Main, who had come ashore\\nto see trie humors of Election Day. They were rough-\\nlooking desperadoes, with sun-blackened faces, and an\\nimmensity of beard their wide, short trousers were con-\\nfined about the waist by belts, often clasped with a rough\\nplat* of gold, and sustaining always a long knife, and,", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0289.jp2"}, "290": {"fulltext": "272\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nin some instances, a sword. From beneath their broad-\\nbrimmed hats of palm-leaf, gleamed eyes which, even\\ngood nature and merriment, had a kind of animal\\nferocity. They transgressed, without fear or scruple, the\\nrules of behavior that were binding on all ethers\\nsmoking tobacco under the beadle\u00e2\u0080\u0099s very nose, although\\neach whiff would have cost a townsman a shilling and\\nquaffing, at their pleasure, draughts of wine or aqua-vitae\\nfrom pocket-flasks, which they freely tendered to the\\ngaping crowd around them. It remarkably character-\\nized the incomplete morality of the age, rigid as we call\\nit, that a license was allowed the seafaring class, not\\nmerely for their freaks on shore, but for far more desper-\\nate deeds on their proper element. The sailor of that\\nday would go near to be arraigned as a pirate in our\\nown. There could be little doubt, for instance, that this\\nvery ship\u00e2\u0080\u0099s crew, though no unfavorable specimens of the\\nnautical brotherhood, had been guilty, as we should\\nphrase it, of depredations on the Spanish commerce,\\nsuch as would have perilled all their necks in a modern\\ncourt of justice.\\nBut the sea, in those old times, heaved, swelled and\\nfoamed, very much at its own will, or subject only to the\\ntempestuous wind, with hardly any attempts at regula\\ntion by human law. The buccaneer on the wave might\\nrelinquish his calling, and become at once, if he chose, a\\nman of probity and piety on land nor, even in the full\\ncareer of his reckless life, was he regarded as a person-\\nage with whom it was disreputable to traffic, or casually\\nassociate. Thus, the Puritan elders, in their black\\ncloaks, starched bands, and steeple-crowned hats, srnilea\\nnot unbenignautly at the clamor and rude deport-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0290.jp2"}, "291": {"fulltext": "THE NEW ENGLAND HOLIDAY\\n273\\nment of these jolly seafaring men and it excited neither\\nsurprise nor animadversion, when so reputable a citizen\\nas old Roger Chillingworth, the physician, was seen to\\nenter the market-place, in close and familiar talk with\\nthe commander of the questionable vessel.\\nThe latter was by far the most showy and gallant\\nfigure, so far as apparel went, anywhere to be seen\\namong the multitude. He wore a profusion of ribbons\\non his garment, and gold lace on his hat, which was\\nalso encircled by a gold chain, and surmounted with a\\nfeather. There was a sword at his side, and a sword-cut\\non his forehead, which, by the arrangement of his hair,\\nhe seemed anxious rather to display than hide. A\\nlandsman could hardly have worn this garb and shown\\nthis face, and worn and shown them both with such a\\ngalliard air, without undergoing stern question before\\na magistrate, and probably incurring fine or impris-\\nonment, or perhaps an exhibition in the stocks. As\\nregarded the shipmaster, however, all was looked upon\\nas pertaining to the character, as to a fish his glistening\\nscales.\\nAfter parting from the physician, the commander of\\nthe Bristol ship strolled idly through the market-place\\nuntil, happening to approach the spot where Hester\\nPrynne was standing, he appeared to recognize, and did\\nnot hesitate to address her. As was usually the case\\nwherever Hester stood, a small vacant area a sort of\\nmagic circle had formed itself about her, into which\\nthough the people were elbowing one another at a little\\ndistance, none ventured, or felt disposed to intrude. If\\nwas a forcible type of the moral solitude m which til*\\nscarlet letter enveloped its fated wearer partly by hei\\nIS", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0291.jp2"}, "292": {"fulltext": "274\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nown reserve, and partly by the instinctive, though no\\nlonger so unkindly, withdrawal of her fellow-creatures.\\nNow, if never before, it answered a good purpose, by\\nenabling Hester and the seaman to speak together with-\\nout risk of being overheard and so changed was Hes-\\nter Prynne\u00e2\u0080\u0099s repute before the public, that the matron\\nin town most eminent for rigid morality could not have\\nheld such intercourse with less result of scandal than\\nherself.\\nSo, mbtress,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the mariner, I must bid the\\nsteward make ready one more berth that you bargained\\nfor No fear of scurvy or ship-fever, this voyage\\nWhat with the ship\u00e2\u0080\u0099s surgeon and this other doctor, our\\nonly danger will be from drug or pill more by token,\\nas there is a lot of apothecary\u00e2\u0080\u0099s stuff aboard, which I\\ntraded for with a Spanish vessel.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhat mean you inquired Hester, startled more\\nthan she permitted to appear. Have you another pas-\\nsenger\\nWhy, know you not,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried the shipmaster, that\\nthis physician here Chillingworth, he calls himself\\nis minded to try my cabin-fare with you Ay, ay,\\nyou must have known it for he tells me he is of your\\nparty, and a close friend to the gentleman you spoke\\nof, he that is in peril from these sour old Puritan\\nrulers\\nThey know each other well, indeed,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied Hester,\\nwith a mien of calmness, though in the utmost conster-\\nnation. They have long dwelt together.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNothing further passed between the mariner and Hes-\\nter Prynne. But, at that instant, she beheld old Roger\\nChillingworth himself, standing in the remotest corner", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0292.jp2"}, "293": {"fulltext": "THE NE^ ENGLAND HOLIDAY.\\nof the narket-place, and smiling on her a smile which\\nacross the wide and bustling square, and through all\\nthe talk and laughter, and various thoughts, moods, and\\ninterests of the nrowd -conveyed secret and fearful\\nmeaning", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0293.jp2"}, "294": {"fulltext": "THE S-7 4.R.LET LETTEH\\n1*76\\nAXX l.\\nTHE PROCESSION.\\nBefore Hester Piynne could call together her thoughts,\\nand consider what was practicable to be done in this new\\nana startling aspect of affairs, the sound of military music\\nwas heard approaching along a contiguous street. It\\ndenoted the advance of the procession of magistrates and\\ncitizens, on its way towards the meeting-house where,\\nin compliance with a custom thus early established, and\\never since observed, the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale was\\nto deliver an Election Sermon.\\nSoon the head of the procession showed itself, with a\\nslow and stately march, turning a comer, and making\\nits way across the market-place. First came the music.\\nIt comprised a variety of instruments, perhaps imperfectly\\nadapted to one another, and played with no great skill\\nbut yet attaining the great object for which the harmony\\nof drum and clarion addresses itself to the multitude,\\nthat of imparting a higher and more heroic air to the\\nscene of life that passes before the eye. Little Pearl at\\nfirst clapped her hands, but then lost, for an instant, the\\nestless agitation that had kept her in a continual effer-\\nvescence throughout the morning; she gazed silently,\\nand seemed to be borne upward, like a floating sea-bird,\\non the long heaves and swells of sound. But she was\\nbrought back to her former mood by the shimmer of the\\nsunshine on the weapons and bright armor of the mili-\\nary company, which followed after the music, and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0294.jp2"}, "295": {"fulltext": "THE PROCESSION.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2ill\\nFormed the honorary escort of the procession. This\\nbody of soldiery which still sustains a corporate exist-\\nence, and marches down from past ages with an ancient\\nand honorable fame was composed of no mercenary\\nmaterials. Its ranks were filled with gentlemen, who\\nfelt the stirrings of martial impulse, and sought to estab-\\nlish a kind of College of Arms, where, as in ar. associa-\\ntion of Knights Templars, they might learn the science,\\nand, so far as peaceful exercise w T ould teach them, the\\npractices of war. The high estimation then placed upon\\nthe military character might be seen in the lofty port of\\neach individual member of the company. Some of them,\\nindeed, by their services in the Low Countries and on\\nother fields of European warfare, had fairly w T on their\\ntitle to assume the name and pomp of soldiership. The\\nentire array, moreover, clad in burnished steel, and with\\nplumage nodding over their bright morions, had a bril-\\nliancy of effect which no modem display can aspire to\\nequal.\\nAnd yet the men of civil eminence, who came imme-\\ndiately behind the military escort, were better worth a\\nthoughtful observer\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eye. Even in outward demeanor,\\nthey showed a stamp of majesty that made the warrior\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nhaughty stride look vulgar, if not absurd. It was an\\nage when what w r e call talent had far less consideration\\nthan now, but the massive materials which produce sta-\\nbility and dignity of character a great deal more. The\\npeople possessed, by hereditary right, the quality of rev-\\nerence wdiich, in their descendants, if it survive at all,\\nexists in smaller proportion, and with a vastly diminished\\nforcej in the selection and estimate of public men. The\\nchange may be for good or ill, and is partly, perhaps, fot", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0295.jp2"}, "296": {"fulltext": "278\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nboth. In that old day, the English settler on iheso ruee\\nshores having left king, nobles, and all degrees of\\nawful rank behind, while still the faculty and necessity\\nof reverence were strong in him bestowed it on the\\nwhite hair and venerable brow of age on long-tried\\nintegrity on solid wisdom and sad-colored experience\\non endowments of that grave and weighty order which\\ngives the idea of permanence, and comes under the gen-\\neral definition of respectability. These primitive states-\\nmen, therefore, Bradstreet, Endicott, Dudley, Belling-\\nham, and their compeers, who were elevated to power\\nby the early choice of the people, seem to have been not\\noften brilliant, but distinguished by a ponderous sobriety,\\nrather than activity of intellect. They had fortitude and\\nself-reliance, and, in time of difficulty or peril, stood up\\nfor the welfare of the state like a line of cliffs against a\\ntempestuous tide. The traits of character here indicated\\nwere well represented in the square cast of countenance\\nand large physical development of the new colonial mag-\\nistrates. So far as a demeanor of natural authority was\\nconcerned, the mother country need not have been\\nashamed to see these foremost men of an actual democ-\\nracy adopted into the House of Peers, or made the Privy\\nCouncil of the sovereign.\\nNext in order to the magistrates came the young and\\neminently distinguished divine, from whose lips the reli-\\ngious discourse of the anniversary was expected. His\\nwas the profession, at that era, in which intellectual\\nability displayed itself far more than in political life for\\nleaving a higher motive out of the question it\\noffered inducements powerful enough, in the almost wor-\\nshipping respect of the community, to win the most aspir-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0296.jp2"}, "297": {"fulltext": "T1IK 1 ROCKISION.\\n279\\nirig ambition into its service. Even political power as\\nin the case of Increase Mather was within the grasp\\nof a successful priest.\\nIt was the observation of those who beheld him now,\\nthat never, since Mr. Dimmesdale first set his foot on the\\nNew England shore, had he exhibited such energy as\\nwas seen in the gait and air with which he kept his pace\\nin the procession. There was no feebleness of step, as\\nat other times his frame was not bent nor did his\\nhand rest ominously upon his heart. Yet, if the clergy-\\nman were rightly viewed, his strength seemed not of the\\nbody. It might be spiritual, and imparted to him by\\nangelic ministrations. It might be the exhilaration of\\nthat potent cordial, which is distilled only in the furnace-\\nglow of earnest and long-continued thought. Or, per-\\nchance, his sensitive temperament was invigorated by\\nthe loud and piercing music, that swelled heavenward,\\nand uplifted him on its ascending wave. Nevertheless,\\nso abstracted was his look, it might be questioned whether\\nMr. Dimmesdale even heard the music. There was his\\noody, moving onward, and with an unaccustomed force.\\nBut where was his mind Far and deep in its own\\nregion, busying itself, with preternatural activity, to\\nmarshal a procession of stately thoughts that were soon\\nto issue thence and so he saw nothing, heard nothing,\\nknew nothing, of what was around him but the spiritual\\nelement took up the feeble frame, and carried it along,\\nunconscious of the burden, and converting it to spirit like\\nitself. Men of uncommon intellect, who have grown\\nmorbid, possess this occasional power of mighty effort,\\ninto which they throw the life of many days, and then\\nare lifeless for as many more.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0297.jp2"}, "298": {"fulltext": "280\\nTITE SCARLET LETTER.\\nHester Prynne, gazing steadfastly at the clergyman,\\nfelt a dreary influence come over her, but wherefore oi\\nwhence she knew not unless that he seemed so remote\\nfrom b T own sphere, and utterly beyond her reach.\\nOne glance of recognition, she had imagined, must needs\\npass between them. She thought of the dim forest, with\\nits little dell of solitude, and love, and anguish, and the\\nmossy tree-trunk, where, sitting hand in hand, they had\\nmingled their sad and passionate talk with the melan-\\ncholy murmur of the brook. How deeply had they\\nknown each other then And was this the man She\\nhardly knew him now He, moving proudly past, en-\\nveloped, as it were, in the rich music, with the proces-\\nsion of majestic and venerable fathers he, so unattaina-\\nble in his worldly position, and still more so in that far\\nvista of his unsympathizing thoughts, through which she\\nnow beheld him Her spirit sank with the idea that all\\nmust have been a delusion, and that, vividly as she had\\ndreamed it, there could be no real bond betwixt the\\nclergyman and herself. And thus much of woman was\\nthere in Hester, that she could scarcely forgive him,\\nleast of all now, when the heavy footstep of their ap-\\nproaching Fate might be heard, nearer, nearer, nearer]\\nfor being able so completely to withdraw himself fiom\\ntheir mutual world; while she groped darkly, and\\nstretched forth her cold hands, and found him not.\\nPearl either saw and responded to her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s feel\\nmgs, or herself felt the remoteness and intangibility that\\nhad fallen around the minister. While the procession\\npassed, the child was uneasy, fluttering up and down,\\nlike a bird on the point of taking flight. When the\\nwhole had gone by, she looked up into Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0298.jp2"}, "299": {"fulltext": "THE PROCESSION.\\n28 J\\nMotl -*r,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, was that the same minister that\\nSussed me by the brook\\nhfrud thy peace, dear little Pearl whispered her\\nmother. We must not always talk in the market-\\nplace of what happens to us in the forest.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI could not be sure that it was he so strange he\\nlooked,\u00e2\u0080\u009d continued the child. Else I would have run\\nto him, and bid him kiss me now, before all the people\\neven as he did yonder among the dark old trees. What\\nwould the minister have said, mother Would he have\\nclapped his hand over his heart, and scowled on me, and\\nbid me begone\\nWhat should he say, Pearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hester, save\\nthat it was no time to kiss, and that kisses are not to be\\ngiven in the market-place Well for thee, foolish child,\\nthat thou didst not speak to him\\nAnother shade of the same sentiment, in reference\\nto Mr. Dimmesdale, was expressed by a person whose\\neccentricities or insanity, as we should term it led\\nher to do what few of the townspeople would have ven-\\ntured on to begin a conversation with the wearer of\\nthe scarlet letter, in public. It was Mistress Hibbins,\\nwho, arrayed in great magnificence, with a triple ruff, a\\nbroidered stomacher, a gown of rich velvet, and a gold-\\nheaded cane, had come forth to see the procession. As\\nthis ancient lady had the renown (which subsequently\\ncost her no less a price than her life) of being a principal\\nactor in all the works of necromancy that were continu-\\nally going forward, the crowd gave way before her, and\\nseemed to fear the touch of her garment, as if it carried\\nthe plague among its gorgeous folds. Seen in conjunc-\\ntion with Hester Prynue, kindly as so many non felt", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0299.jp2"}, "300": {"fulltext": "282\\nTHE SCARLET LETTISH.\\ntowards the latter, the dread inspired by Mistress\\nHibbins was doubled, and caused a general movement\\nfrom that part of the market-place in which the two\\nwomen stood.\\nNow, what mortal imagination could conceive it\\nwhispered the old lady, confidentially, to Hester. Yon-\\nder divine man That saint on earth, as the people\\nuphold him to be, and as I must needs say he\\nreally looks Who, now, that saw him pass in the pro-\\ncession, would think how little while it is since he went\\nforth out of his study, chewing a Hebrew text of\\nScripture in his mouth, I warrant, to take an airing\\nin the forest Aha we know what that means, Hester\\nPrynne But truly, forsooth, I find it hard to believe\\nhim the same man. Many a church-member saw\\nwalking behind the music, that has danced in the same\\nmeasure with me, when Somebody was fiddler, and, it\\nmight be, an Indian powwow or a Lapland wizard chang-\\ning hands with us That is but a trifle, when a woman\\nknows the world. But this minister! Couldst thou\\nsurely tell, Hester, whether he was the same man that\\nencountered thee on the forest-path\\nMadam, I know not of what you speak,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered\\nHester Prynne, feeling Mistress Hibbins to be of infirm\\nmind yet strangely startled and awe-stricken by the\\nconfidence with which she affirmed a personal connection\\nbetween so many persons (herself among them) and the\\nEvil One. It is not for me to talk lightly of a learned\\nand pious minister of the Word, like the Reverend Mr,\\nDimmesdale\\nP m, woman, fie cried the old lady, shaking hei\\n*nger at Hester. Dost thou think I have been tc th*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0300.jp2"}, "301": {"fulltext": "THE PROCESSION.\\n2S3\\nlorest so many times, and have yet no skill to judge\\nwho else has been there Yea; though no leaf of the\\nwild garlands, which they wore while they danced, be\\nleft in their hair I know thee, Hester for I behold\\nthe token. W e may all see it in the sunshine and it\\nglows like a red flame in the dark. Thou wearest it\\nopenly so there need be no question about that. But\\nthis minister Let me tell thee, in thine ear When\\nthe Black Man sees one of his own servants, signed and\\nsealed, so shy of owning to the bond as is the Reverend\\nMr. Dimmesdale, he hath a way of ordering matters so\\nthat the mark shall be disclosed in open daylight to the\\neyes of all the world What is it that the minister\\nseeks to hide, with his hand always over his heart Ha,\\nHester Prynne\\nWhat is it, good Mistress Hibbins ,v eagerly asked\\nlittle Pearl. Hast thou seen it\\nNo matter, darling responded Mistress Hibbins,\\nmaking Pearl a profound reverence. Thou thyself\\nwilt see it, one time or another. They say, child, thou\\nart of the lineage of the Prince of the Air! Wilt thou\\nride with me, some fine night, to see thy father Then\\nthou shalt know wherefore the minister keeps his hand\\nover his heart\\nLaughing so shrilly that all tne market-place could\\nhear her, the weird old gentlewoman took her departure.\\nBy this time the preliminary prayer had been offered\\nin the meeting-house, and the accents of the Reverend\\nMr. Dimmesdale were heard commencing his discourse.\\nAn irresistible feeling kept Hester near the spot. As the\\nsacred edifice was too much thronged to admit another\\nau.litor, she took up her position close beside the scaffold", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0301.jp2"}, "302": {"fulltext": "284\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nof thfe pillory. It was in sufficient proximity to nring\\nthe whole sermon to her ears, in the shape of an indis-\\ntinct, but varied, murmur and flow of the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s very\\npeculiar voice.\\nThis vocal organ was in itself a rich endowment;\\ninsomuch that a listener, comprehending nothing of the\\nlanguage in which the preacher spoke, might still have\\nbeen swayed to and fro by the mere tone and cadence.\\nLike all other music, it breathed passion and pathos, and\\nemotions high or tender, in a tongue native to the human\\nheart, wherever educated. Muffled as the sound was\\nby its passage through the church-walls, Hester Prynne\\nlistened with such intentness, and sympathized so inti-\\nmately, that the sermon had throughout a meaning for her.\\nentirely apart from its indistinguishable words. These,\\nperhaps, if more distinctly heard, might have been onlj\\na grosser medium, and have clogged the spiritual sense\\nNow she caught the low undertone, as of the wind sink\\ning down to repose itself; then ascended with it, as if\\nrose through progressive gradations of sweetness and\\npower, until its volume seemed to envelop her with an\\natmosphere of awe and solemn grandeur. And yet,\\nmajestic as the voice sometimes became, there was for-\\never in it an essential character of plaintiveness. A loud\\nor low expression of anguish, the whisper, or the\\nshriek, as it might be conceived, of suffering humanity,\\nthat touched a sensibility in every bosom At times\\nthis deep strain of pathos was all that could be heard,\\nand scarcely heard, sighing amid a desolate silence. But\\neven when the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice grew high and command\\ning, when it gushed irrepressibly upward, when it\\nasnumed Its utmost breadth and power, so overfilling the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0302.jp2"}, "303": {"fulltext": "THE PROCESSION.\\n285\\nchurch as to burst its way through the solid walls, ant\\ndiffuse itself in the open air, still, if the auditor listened\\nintently, and for the purpose, he could detect the same\\ncry of pain. What was it The complaint of a human\\nheart, sorrow-laden, perchance guilty, telling its secret,\\nwhether of guilt or sorrow, to the great heart of man-\\nkind beseeching its sympathy or forgiveness, at\\nevery moment, in each accent, and never in vain\\nIt was this profound and continual undertone that gave\\nthe clergyman his most appropriate power.\\nDuring all this time, Hester stood, statue-like, at the\\nfoot of the scaffold. If the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice had not\\nkept her there, there would nevertheless have been an\\ninevitable magnetism in that spot, whence she dated the\\nfirst hour of her life of ignominy. There was a sense\\nwithin her, too ill-defined to be made a thought, but\\nweighing heavily on her mind, that her whole orb of\\nlife, both before and after, was connected with this spot,\\nas with the one point that gave it unity.\\nLittle Pearl, meanwhile, had quitted her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nside, and was playing at her own will about the market-\\nplace. She made the sombre crowd cheerful by her\\nerratic and glistening ray even as a bird of bright plum-\\nage illuminates a whole tree of dusky foliage, by dart-\\ning to and fro, half seen and hall concealed amid the\\ntwilight of the clustering leaves. She had an undula-\\nting, but, oftentimes, a sharp and irregular movement. It\\nindicated the restless vivacity of her spirit, which to-day\\nwas doubly indefatigable in. its tiptoe dance, because it\\nwas played upon and vibrated with her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s disqui-\\netude. Whenever Pearl saw anything to excite her eve!\\nactive and wandering curiosity, she flew thitherward", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0303.jp2"}, "304": {"fulltext": "566\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nand, as we might say, seized upon that man or thing as\\nher own property, so far as she desired it but without\\nyielding the minutest degree of control over her motions\\nill requital. The Puritans looked on, and, if they smiled,\\nwere none the less inclined to pronounce the child a\\ndemon offspring, from the indescribable charm of beauty\\nand eccentricity that shone through her little figure, and\\nsparkled v/ith its activity. She ran and looked the wild\\nIndian in the face and he grew conscious of a nature\\nwilder than his own. Thence, with native audacity,\\nbut still with a reserve as characteristic, she flew into\\nthe midst of a group of mariners, the swarthy-cheeked\\nwild men of the ocean, as the Indians were of the land\\nand they gazed wonderingly and admiringly at Pearl, as\\nif a flake of the sea-foam had taken the shape of a little\\nmaid, and were gifted with a soul of the sea-fire, that\\nflashes beneath the prow in the night-time.\\nOne of these seafaring men the shipmaster, indeed,\\nwho had spoken to Hester Prynne was so smitten with\\nPearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s aspect, that he attempted to lay hands upon her,\\nwith purpose to snatch a kiss. Finding it as impossible\\nto touch her as to catch a humming-bird in the air, he\\ntook from his hat the gold chain that was twisted about\\nit, and threw it to the child. Pearl immediately twined\\nit around her neck and waist, with such happy skill, that,\\nonce seen there, it became a part of her, and it was\\ndifficult to imagine her without it.\\nThy mother is yonder woman with the scarlet let-\\nter,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the seaman. Wilt theu carry her a message\\nfrom me\\nIf the message pleases me, I will,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Pearl.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThen tell her,\u00e2\u0080\u009d rejoined he, \u00e2\u0080\u009cthat I spake again", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0304.jp2"}, "305": {"fulltext": "TTIE PROCESSION.\\n28\\nwith the black-a-visaged, hump-shouldered old doctor,\\nand he engages to bring his friend, the gentleman she\\nwots of, aboard with him. So let thy mother take no\\nthought, save for herself and thee. Wilt thou tell her\\nthis, thou witch-baby\\nMistress Hibbins says my father is the Prince of\\nthe Air cried Pearl, with a naughty smile. If thou\\ncallest me that ill name, I shall tell him of thee and he\\nwill chase thy ship with a tempest\\nPursuing a zigzag course across the market-place, the\\nchild returned to her mother, and communicated what\\nthe mariner had said. Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s strong, calm, steadfastly\\nenduring spirit almost sank, at last, on beholding this\\ndark and grim countenance of an inevitable doom, which\\nat the moment when a passage seemed to open foi\\nthe minister and herself out of their labyrinth of misery\\nshowed itself, with an unrelenting smile, right in the\\nmidst of their path.\\nWith her mind harassed by the terrible perplexity\\nin which the shipmaster\u00e2\u0080\u0099s intelligence involved her, she\\nwas also subjected to another trial. There were many\\npeople present, from the country round about, who had\\noften heard of the scarlet letter, and to whom it had\\nbeen made terrific by a hundred false or exaggerated\\nrumors, but who had never beheld it with their own\\nbodily eyes. These, after exhausting other modes of\\namusement, now thronged about Hester Prynne with\\nrude and boorish intrusiveness. Unscrupulous a\u00c2\u00b0 it was,\\nhowever, it could not bring them nearer than a circuit\\nof several yards. At that distance they accordingly\\nstood, fixed there by the centrifugal force of the. repug-\\nmnce which the mystic symbol inspired. Th* whote", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0305.jp2"}, "306": {"fulltext": "288\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\ngang of sailors, likewise, observing the press of spectators,\\nand learning the purport of the scarlet letter, came and\\nthrust their sunburnt and desperado-looking faces into\\nthe ring. Even the Indians were affected by a sort of\\ncold shadow of the white man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s curiosity, and, gliding\\nthrough the crowd, .fastened their snake-like black eyes\\non Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bosom conceiving, perhaps, that the wearer\\n\u00c2\u00bbf this brilliantly embroidered badge must needs be a\\npersonage of high dignity among her people. Lastly\\nthe inhabitants of the town (their own interest in this\\nworn-out subject languidly reviving itself, by sympathy\\nwith what they saw others feel) lounged idly to the same\\nquarter, and tormented Hester Prynne, perhaps more\\nchan all the rest, with their cool, well-acquainted gaze at\\nher familiar shame. Hester saw and recognized the\\nself-same faces of that group of matrons, who had awaited\\nher forthcoming from the prison-door, seven years ago\\naU save one, the youngest and only compassionate\\namong them, whose burial-robe she had since made.\\nAt the final hour, when she was so soon to fling aside\\nthe burning* letter, it had strangely become the centre of\\nmore remark and excitement, and was thus made to sear\\nher breast more painfully, than at any time since the\\nfirst day she put it on.\\nWhile Hester stood in that magic circle of ignominy,\\nwhere the cunning cruelty of her sentence seemed to\\nhave fixed her forever, the admirable preacher was\\nlooking down from the sacred pulpit upon an audience\\nwhose very inmost spirits had yielded to his control.\\nThe sainted minister in the church The woman of\\nthe scarlet letter in the market-place What imagi-\\nnation would have been irreverent enough to surmise\\nthat the same scorching stigma was on them both I", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0306.jp2"}, "307": {"fulltext": "THE EEVCLATION OF TIIF, SCAKLET LETTEH.\\nXXIII.\\n1HE REVELATION OF THE SCARLET LETTER\\nThe eloquent voice, on which the souls of the listen*\\ning audience had been borne aloft as on the swelling\\nwaves of the sea, at length came to a pause. There\\nwas a momentary silence, profound as what should fol-\\nlow the utterance of oracles. Then ensued a murmur\\nand half-hushed tumult as if the auditors, released\\nfrom the high spell that had transported them into the\\nregion of another\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mind, were returning into themselves,\\nwith all their awe and wonder still heavy on them. In\\na moment more, the crowd began to gush forth from the\\ndoors of the church. Now that there was an end, they\\nneeded other breath, more fit to support the gross and\\nearthly life into which they relapsed, than that atmos-\\nphere which the preacher had converted into words of\\nflame, and had burdened with the rich fragrance of his\\nthought.\\nIn the open air their rapture broke into speech. The\\nstreet and the market-place absolutely babbled, from side\\nto side, with applauses of the minister. His hearers\\ncould not rest until they had told one another of what\\neach knew better than he could tell or hear. According\\nto their united testimony, never had man spoken in so\\nwise, so high, and so holy a spirit, as he that spake this\\nday nor had inspiration ever breathed through mortal\\nlips more evidently than it did through his. Its influ-\\nence c uld be seen, as it were, descending upon him,\\n19", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0307.jp2"}, "308": {"fulltext": "290\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nand possessing him, and continually lifting him out ol\\nthe written discourse that lay before him, and filling him\\nwith ideas that must have been as marvellous to himself\\nas to his audience. His subject, it appeared, had been\\nthe relation between the Deity and the communities of\\nmankind, with a special reference to the New England\\nwhich they were here planting in the wilderness. And,\\nas he drew towards the close, a spirit as of prophecy had\\ncome upon him, constraining him to its purpose as\\nmightily as the old prophets of Israel were constrained\\nonly with this difference, that, whereas the Jewish seers\\nhad denounced judgments and ruin on their country, it\\nwas his mission to foretell a high and glorious destiny\\nfor the newly gathered people of the Lord. But, through-\\nout it all, and through the whole discourse, there had\\nbeen a certain deep, sad undertone of pathos, which\\ncould not be interpreted otherwise than as the natural\\nregret of one soon to pass away. Yes their minister\\nwhom they so loved and who so loved them all, that\\nhe could not depart heavenward without a sigh had the\\nforeboding of untimely death upon him, and would soon\\nleave them in then tears This idea of his transitory\\nstay on earth gave the last emphasis to the effect which\\nthe preacher had produced it was as if an angel, in his\\npassage to the skies, had shaken his bright wings over\\nthe people for an instant, at once a shadow and a\\nsplendor, and had shed down a shower of golden\\ntruths upon them.\\nThus, there had come to the Reverend Mr. Dimmes-\\ndale as to most men, in their various spheres, though\\nseldom recognized until they see it far behind them\\nan epoch of life more brilliant and full of triumph ilia.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0308.jp2"}, "309": {"fulltext": "THE REVELATION OF THE SCARLET LETTER.\\n29\\nany previous one, or than any which could hereafter be.\\nHe stood, at this moment, on the very proudest eminence\\nof superiority, to which the gifts of intellect, rich lore-\\nprevailing eloquence, and a reputation of whitest sanctity,\\ncould exalt a clergyman in New England\u00e2\u0080\u0099s earliest Uays,\\nwhen the professional character was of itself a lofty\\npedestal. Such was the position which the minister\\noccupied, as he bowed his head forward on the cushions\\nof the pulpit, at the close of his Election Sermon. Mean-\\nwhile Hester Prynne was standing beside the scaffold of\\nthe pillory, with the scarlet letter still burning on her\\nbreast\\nNow was heard again the clangor of the music, and the\\nmeasured tramp of the military escort, issuing from the\\nchurch-door. The procession was to be marshalled thence\\nto the town-hall, where a solemn banquet would complete\\nthe ceremonies of the day.\\nOnce more, therefore, the train of venerable and ma-\\njestic fathers was seen moving through a broad pathway\\nof the people, who drew back reverently, on either side,\\nas the Governor and magistrates, the old and wise men,\\nthe holy ministers, and all that were eminent and re-\\nnowned, advanced into the midst of them. When they\\nwere fairly in the market-place, their presence was greeted\\nby a shout. This though doubtless it might acquire\\nadditional force and volume from the childlike loyalty\\nwhich the age awarded to its rulers was felt to be an\\nirrepressible outburst of enthusiasm kindled in the audi-\\ntors by that high strain of eloquence which was yet\\nreverberating in their ears. Each felt the impulse m\\nhimself, and, in the same breath, caught it from his\\nneighbor. Within the church, it had hardly been kept", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0309.jp2"}, "310": {"fulltext": "292\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\ndown; beneath the sky, it pealed upward to the zenitii.\\nThere were human beings enough, and enough of\\nhighly wrought and symphonious feeling, to produce\\nthat more impressive sound than the organ tones of the\\nblast, or the thunder, or the roar of the sea even that\\nmighty swell o( many voices, blended into one great\\nvoice by the universal impulse which makes likewise\\none vast heart out of the many. Never, from the soil\\nof New England, had gone up such a shout Never,\\non New England soil, had stood the man so honored by\\nhis mortal brethren as the preacher\\nHow fared it with him then? Were there not the\\nbrilliant particles of a halo in the air about his head\\nSo etherealized by spirit as he was, and so apotheosized\\nby worshipping admirers, did his footsteps, in the proces-\\nsion, really tread upon the dust of earth\\nAs the ranks of military men and civil fathers moved\\nonward, all eyes were turned towards the point where\\nthe minister was seen to approach among them. The\\nshout died into a murmur, as one portion of the crowd\\nafter another obtained a glimpse of him. How feeble\\nand pale he looked, amid all his triumph The energy\\nor say, rather, the inspiration which had held him up,\\nuntil he .should have delivered the sacred message that\\nbrought its own strength along with it from heaven\\nwas withdrawn, now that it had so faithfully performed\\nits office. The glow, which they had just before beheld\\nburning on his cheek, was extinguished, like a flame\\nthat sinks down hopelessly among the late-decaying\\nembers. It seened hardly the face of a man aJive, with\\nsuch a deathlike hue; it was hardly a man with \u00e2\u0080\u0098\u00c2\u00abj", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0310.jp2"}, "311": {"fulltext": "THE REVELATION OF THE SCARLET LETTEF., 29^\\nhim, that tottered on his path so nervelessly yet tot-\\ntered, and did not fall\\nOne of his clerical brethren, it was the venerable\\nJohn Wilson, observing the state in which Mr. Dim-\\nrnesdale was left by the retiring wave of intellect and\\nsensibility, stepped forward hastily to offer his support.\\nThe minister tremulously, but decidedly, repelled the old\\nman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ann. He still walked onward, if that movement\\ncould be so described, which rather resembled the waver-\\ning effort of an infant, with its mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s arms in view,\\noutstretched to tempt him forward. And now, almost\\nimperceptible as were the latter steps of his progress, he\\nhad come opposite the well -remembered and weather-\\ndarkened scaffold, where, long since, with all that dreary\\nlapse of time between, Hester Prynne had encountered\\nthe world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ignominious stare. There stood Hester,\\nholding little Pearl by the hand And there was the\\nscarlet letter on ner breast The minister here made a\\npause although the music still played the stately and\\nrejoicing march to which the procession moved. It\\nsummoned him onward, onward to the festival! but\\nhere he made a pause.\\nBellingham, for the last few moments, had kept an\\nanxious eye upon him. He now left his own place in\\nthe procession, and advanced to give assistance judging,\\nfrom Mr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s aspect, that he must otherwise\\ninevitably fall. But there was something in the latter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nexpression that warned back the magistrate, although a\\nman not readily obeying the vague intimations that pass\\nfrom one spirit to another. The crowd, meanwhile,\\nlooked on with awe and wonder. This earthly faintness\\nwas in their view, only another phase of the mirister\u00e2\u0080\u0099a", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0311.jp2"}, "312": {"fulltext": "294\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\ncelestial strength nor would it have seemed a miracle\\ntoo nigh to be wrought for one so holy, had he ascended\\nbefore theit eyes, waxing dimmer and brighter, and\\nfading at last into the light of heaven\\nHe turned towards the scaffold, and stretched forth his\\narms.\\nHester,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, come hither Come, my little\\nPearl!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt was a ghastly look with which he regarded them\\nbut there was something at once tender and strangely\\ntriumphant in it. The child, with the bird-like motion\\nwhich was one of her characteristics, flew to him, and\\nclasped her arms about his knees. Hester Prynne\\nslowly, as if impelled by inevitable fate, and against her\\nstrongest will likewise drew near, but paused before\\nshe reached him. At this instant, old Roger Chilling-\\nworth thrust himself through the crowd, or, perhaps, sc\\ndark, disturbed and evil, was his look, he rose up out of\\nsome nether region, to snatch back his victim fronr.\\nwhat he sought to do Be that as it might, the old man\\n^rushed forward, and caught the minister by the arm.\\nMadman, hold what is your purpose whispered\\nhe. Wave back that woman Cast off* this child\\nAll shall be well! Do not blacken your fame, and\\nperish in dishonor! lean yet save you! Would you\\nbring infamy on your sacred profession?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHa, tempter! Methinks thou art too late!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nswered the minister, encountering his eye, fearfully, but\\nfirmly. Thy power is not what it was With God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nhelp, I shall escape thee now\\nHe again extended his hand to the woman of the\\nscarlet letter.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0312.jp2"}, "313": {"fulltext": "THE REVELATION CF THE SCARLET LETTER. 295\\n14 Hester Prynne,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried he, with a piercing earnest*\\nness, in the name of Him, so terrible and so merciful,\\nwho gives me grace, at this last moment, to do what\\nfor my own heavy sin and miserable agony I withheld\\nmyself from doing seven years ago, come hither now,\\nand twine thy strength about me Thy strength, Hestei\\nbut let it be guided by the will w r hich God hath granted\\nme This wretched and wronged old man is opposing\\nit with all his might with all his own might, and the\\nfiend\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Come, Hester, come Support me up yonder\\nscaffold\\nThe crowd was in a tumult. The men of rank ana\\ndignity, who stood more immediately around the clergy-\\nman, were so taken by surprise, and so perplexed as to\\nthe purport of what they saw, unable to receive the\\nexplanation which most readily presented itself, or to\\nimagine any other, that they remained silent and\\ninactive spectators of the judgment which Providence\\nseemed about to work. They beheld the minister, lean-\\ning on Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s shoulder, and supported by her arm\\naround him, approach the scaffold, and ascend its step-\\nwhile still the little hand of the sin-born child was\\nclasped in his. Old Roger Chillingworth followed, as\\none intimately connected with the drama of guilt and\\nsorrow in which they had all been actors, and well\\nentitled, therefore, to be present, at its closing scene.\\nHadst thou sought the whole earth over,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he,\\nlooking darkly at the clergyman, \u00e2\u0080\u009cthere was uo one\\nplace so secret, no high place nor lowly place, where\\ntho* couldst have escaped me, save on this very\\nscaffold!\u00e2\u0080\u009d", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0313.jp2"}, "314": {"fulltext": "296\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThanks be to Him who hath led me hither!\u00e2\u0080\u009d an*\\nswered the minister.\\nYet he trembled, and turned to Hester with an ex-\\npression of doubt and anxiety in his eyes, not the less\\nevidently betrayed, that there was a feeble smile upon\\nhis lips.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cIs not this better,\u00e2\u0080\u009d murmured he, \u00e2\u0080\u009cthan what we\\ndreamed of in the forest\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cI know not! I know not! \u00e2\u0080\u0099\u00e2\u0080\u0099she hurriedly replied.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cBetter? Yea; so we may both die, and little Pearl\\ndie with us\\nFor thee and Pearl, be it as God shall order,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said\\nthe minister; \u00e2\u0080\u009cand God is merciful Let me now do\\nthe will which he hath made plain before my sight.\\nFor, Hester, I am a dying man. So let me make haste\\nto take my shame upon me\\nPartly supported by Hester Prynne, and hoi ling one\\nhand of little Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdfde\\nturned to the dignified and venerable rulers to the holy\\nministers, who were his brethren to the people, whose\\ngreat heart was thoroughly appalled, yet overt! owing\\nwith tearful sympathy, as knowing that some deep iiie-\\nmatter which, if full of sin, was full of anguish and\\nrepentance likewise was now to be laid open to them\\nThe sun, but little past its meridian, shone down upon the\\nclergyman, and gave a distinctness to his figure, as be\\nstood out from all the earth, to put in his plea of g iilty\\nat the bar of Eternal Justice.\\nPeople of New England cried he, with a voice\\nthat rose over them, high, solemn, and majestic, yet\\nhad always a tremor through it, and sometimes a slmek,\\nstruggling up out of a fathomless depth of remorse and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0314.jp2"}, "315": {"fulltext": "THE R\u00c2\u00a3\\\\ ELATION OF THE SCARLET LETTER. 2fl\u00e2\u0080\u0099i\\nwo** _.\u00c2\u00abye, that have loved me! ye, that have\\ndeemed me holy behold me here, the one sinner of\\nthe world At last at last I stand upon the\\nspot where, seven years since, I should have stood\\nhere, with this woman, whose arm, more than the little\\nstrength wherewith I have crept hitherward, sustains\\nme, at this dreadful moment, from grovelling down upon\\nmy face Lo, the scarlet letter which Hester wears\\nYe have all shuddered at it Wherever her walk hath\\nbeen, wherever, so miserably burdened, she may have\\nhoped to find repose, it hath cast a lurid gleam of\\nawe and horrible repugnance round about her. But\\nthere stood one in the mids? of you, at whose brand of\\nsin and infamy ye have not shuddered!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt seemed, at this point, as if the minister must\\nleave the remainder of his secret undisclosed. But he\\nfought back the bodily weakness, and, still more, the\\nfaintness of heart, that was striving for the mastery\\nwith him. He threw off all assistance, and stepped\\npassionately forward a pace before the woman and the\\nchild.\\nIt was on him he continued, with a kind of\\nfierceness so determined was he to speak out the\\nwhole. God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eye beheld it The angels were for-\\never pointing at it The Devil knew it well, and fretted\\nit continually with the touch of his burning finger But\\nhe hid it cunningly from men, and walked among you\\nwith the mien of a spirit, mournful, because so pure in a\\nsinful world and sad, because he missed his heavenly\\nkindred Now, at the death-hour, he stands up before\\nyou He oids you look again at Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s scarlet letter\\nHe tells you, that with all its mysterious horror, it is", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0315.jp2"}, "316": {"fulltext": "298\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\nbut the shadow of what he bears on his own breast, and\\nthat even this, his own red stigma, is no more than the\\ntype of what has seared his inmost heart Stand any\\nhere that question God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s judgment on a sinner Be*\\nhold Behold a dreadful witness of it\\nWith a convulsive motion, he tore away the minis-\\nterial band from before his breast. It was revealed\\nBut it were irreverent to describe that revelation. For\\nan instant, the gaze of the horror-stricken multitude was\\nconcentred on the ghastly miracle while the minister\\nstood, with a flush of triumph in his face, as one who, in\\nthe crisis of acutest pain, had won a victory. Then,\\ndown he sank upon the scaffold Hester partly raised\\nhim, and supported his head against her bosom. Old\\nRoger Chillingworth knelt down beside him, with a\\nblank, dull countenance, out of which the life seemed to\\nto have departed.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThou hast escaped me!\u00e2\u0080\u009d he repeated more than\\nonce. Thou hast escaped me\\nMay God forgive thee said the minister. Thou,\\ntoo, hast deeply sinned\\nHe withdrew his dying eyes from the old man, and\\nfixed them on the woman and the child.\\nMy little Pearl,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, feebly, and there was a\\nsweet and gentle smile over his face, as of a spirit sink-\\ning into deep repose nay, now that the burden was\\nremoved, it seemed almost as if he would be sportive\\nwith the child, dear little Pearl, wilt thou kiss me\\nnow Thou wouldst not, yonder, in the forest But\\naow thou wilt\\nPearl kissed his lips. A sp Q ll was broken. The great\\nscene of grief, in which the wild infant bore a part, had\\ndeveloped all her sympathies; and as her tears fell upon", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0316.jp2"}, "317": {"fulltext": "THE REVELATION OF THE SCARLET LETTER. 239\\ntier father\u00e2\u0080\u0099s cheek, they were the pledge that she would\\ngrow up amid human joy and sorrow, nor forever do bat-\\ntle with the world, hut be a woman in it. Towards her\\nmother, too. Pearl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s errand as a messenger of anguish\\nwas all fulfilled.\\nHester,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the clergyman, farewell\\nShall we not meet again whispered she, bending\\nher face down close to his. Shall we not spend our\\nimmortal life together Surely, surely, we have, ran-\\nsomed one another, with all this woe Thou lookest\\nfar into eternity, with those bright dying eyes Then\\ntell me what thou seest\\nHush, Hester, hush said he, with tremulous\\nsolemnity. The law we broke the sin here so\\nawfully revealed let these alone be in thy thoughts\\nI fear I fear It may be, that, when we forgot our\\nGod, when we violated our reverence each for the\\nother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s soul, it was thenceforth vain to hope that we\\ncould meet hereafter, in an everlasting and pure re-\\nunion. God knows and He is merciful He hath\\nproved his mercy, most of all, in my afflictions. By\\ngiving me this burning torture to bear upon my breast\\nBy sending yonder dark and terrible old man, to keep\\nthe torture always at red-heat By bringing me hither,\\nto die this death of triumphant ignominy before the peo-\\nple Had either of these agonies been wanting, I had\\nbeen lost forever Praised be his name His will be\\ndone Fa rewell\\nThat final word came forth with the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ex-\\npiring breath. The multitude, silent till then, broke out\\nin a strange, deep voice of and wonder, which could\\nnot as yet find utterance, save in this murmur that rolled\\neo heavilv off or the departed spirit.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0317.jp2"}, "318": {"fulltext": "300\\nTHE SCARLET LEITER.\\nXXIV.\\nCONCLUSION.\\nAfter many days, when time sufficed for tht people\\nto arrange their thoughts in reference to the foregoing\\nscene, there was more than one account of what had\\nbeen witnessed on the scaffold.\\nMost of the spectators testified to having seen, on the\\nbreast of the unhappy minister, a scarlet letter the\\nvery semblance of that worn by Hester Prynne im-\\nprinted in the flesh. As regarded its origin, there were\\nvarious explanations, all of which must necessarily have\\nbeen conjectural. Some affirmed that the Reverend Mr.\\nDimmesdale, on the very day when Hester Prynne first\\nwore her ignominious badge, had begun a course of pen-*\\nance, which he afterwards, in so many futile methods,\\nfollowed out, by inflicting a hideous torture on him-\\nself. Others contended that the stigma had not been\\nproduced until a long time subsequent, when old Roger\\nChillingworth, being a potent necromancer, had caused\\nit to appear, through the agency of magic and poisonous\\ndrugs. Others, again, and those best able to appre-\\nciate the minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s peculiar sensibility, and the wonder-\\nful operation of his spirit upon the body, whispered\\ntheir belief, that the awful symbol was the effect of the\\never active tooth of remorse, gnawing from the inmost\\nheart outwardly, and at last manifesting Heaven\u00e2\u0080\u0099s dread-\\nful judgment by the visible presence of the le tter. The\\nreader may choose among these theoiies. We have", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0318.jp2"}, "319": {"fulltext": "CONCLUSION.\\n*J0I\\nthrown all the light we could acquire upon the portent*\\n*.nd would gladly, now that it has done its office, erase\\nits deep print out of our own brain; where longmedita-\\ntion has fixed it in very undesirable distinctness.\\nIt is singular, nevertheless, that certain persons, wha\\nivere spectators of the whole scene, and professed never\\nonce to have removed their eyes from the Reverend Mr.\\nDimmesdale, denied that there was any mark whatever\\non his breast, more than on a new-born infant\u00e2\u0080\u0099s. Neither,\\nby their report, had his dying words acknowledged, nor\\neven remotely implied, any, the slightest connection, on\\nhis part, with the guilt for which Hester Prynne had so\\nlong worn the scarlet letter. According to these higb\u00e2\u0080\u0099y\\nrespectable witnesses, the minister, conscious that he was\\ndying, conscious, also, that the reverence of the mul-\\ntitude placed him already among saints and angels,\\nhad desired, by yielding up his breath in the arms of that\\nfallen woman, to express to the world how utterly nuga-\\ntory is the choicest of man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own righteousness. After\\nexhausting life in his efforts for mankind\u00e2\u0080\u0099s spiritual good,\\nhe had made the manner of his death a parable, in order\\nto impress on his admirers the mighty and mournful les-\\nson, that, in the view of Infinite Purity, we are sinners\\nall alike. It was to teach them, that the holiest among\\nus has but attained so far above his fellows as to discern\\nmore clearly the Mercy which looks down, and repudiate\\nmore utterly the phantom of human merit, which would\\nlook aspiringly upward. Without disputing a truth so\\nmomentous, we must be allowed to consider this version\\nof Mr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s story as only an instance of that\\nstubborn fidelity with which a man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s friends and\\nespecially a clergyman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s will sometimes uphold his", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0319.jp2"}, "320": {"fulltext": "302\\nTHE SCARLET LETTER.\\ncharacter when proofs, clear as the mid-day sunshine\\non the scarlet letter, establish him a false and sin-stained\\ncreature of the dust.\\nThe authority which we have chiefly followed,\\nmanuscript of old date, drawn up from the verbal testi-\\nmony of individuals, some of whom had known Hester\\nPrynne, while others had heard the tale from contempo-\\nrary witnesses, fully confirms the view taken in the\\nforegoing pages. Among many morals which press upon\\nus from the poor minister\u00e2\u0080\u0099s miserable experience, we put\\nonly this into a sentence \u00e2\u0080\u009cBe true Be true Be\\ntrue Show freely to the world, if not your worst, yet\\nsome trait whereby the worst may be inferred\\nNothing was more remarkable than the change which\\ntook place, almost immediately after Mr. Dimmesdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\ndeath, in the appearance and demeanor of the old man\\nknown as Roger Chillingworth. All his strength and\\nenergy all his vital and intellectual force seemed at\\nonce to desert him insomuch that he positively withered\\nup, shrivelled away, and almost vanished from mortal\\nsight, like an uprooted weed that lies wilting in the sun.\\nThis unhappy man had made the very principle of his\\nlife to consist in the pursuit and systematic exercise of\\nrevenge and when, by its completest triumph and con-\\nsummation, that evil principle was left with no further\\nmaterial to support it, when, in short, there was no\\nmore Devil\u00e2\u0080\u0099s work on earth for him to do, it only remained\\nfor the unhumanized mortal to betake himself whithei\\nhis Master would find him tasks enough, and pay him\\nhis wages duly. But, to all these shadowy beings, so\\nlong our near acquaintances, as well Roger Chilling-\\nworth a i his companions, we would fain be merciful", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0320.jp2"}, "321": {"fulltext": "C0NCLIS.0N.\\n303\\nIt is i curious subject of observation and inquiry, whether\\nhatred and love be not the same thing at bottom. Each,\\nin its utmost development, supposes a high degree of\\nintimacy and heart-knowledge each renders one indi-\\nvidual dependent for the food of his affections and spirit-\\nual life upon another; each leaves the passionate lover,\\nor the no less passionate hater, forlorn and desolate by\\nthe withdrawal of his subject. Philosophically consid-\\nered, therefore, the two passions seem essentially the\\nsame, except that one happens to be seen in a celestial\\nradiance, and the other in a dusky and lurid glow. In\\nthe spiritual world, the old physician and the ministei\\nmutual victims as they have been may, unawares,\\nhave found their earthly stock of hatred and antipathy\\ntransmuted into golden love.\\nLeaving this discussion apart, we have a matter of\\nbusiness to communicate to the reader. At old Roger\\nChillingworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s decease, (which took place within the\\nyear,) and by his last will and testament, of which Gov-\\nernor Bellingham and the Reverend Mr. Wilson were\\nexecutors, he bequeathed a very considerable amount of\\nproperty, both here and in England, to little Pearl, the\\ndaughter of Hester Prynne.\\nSo Pearl the elf-child, the demon offspring, as\\nsome people, up to that epoch, persisted in considering\\nher, became the richest heiress of her day, in the New\\nW rid. Not improbably, this circumstance wrought a\\nvery material change in the public estimation and, had\\nthe mother and child remained here, little Pearl, at a\\nmarriageable period of life, might have mingled her wild\\nblood with the lineage of the devoutest Puritan among\\nthem all. But, in no long time after the physician\u00e2\u0080\u0099*", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0321.jp2"}, "322": {"fulltext": "*04\\nTHE SCARLET LL ITER.\\ndeath, the wearer of the scarlet letter disappeaied, and\\nPearl along with her. For many years, though a vague\\nreport would now and then find its way across the sea,\\nlike a shapeless piece of driftwood tost ashore, with\\nthe initials of a name upon it, yet no tidings of them\\nunquestionably authentic were received. The story of\\nthe scarlet letter grew into a legend. Its spell, however,\\nwas still potent, and kept the scaffold awful where the\\nooor minister had died, and likewise the cottage by the\\nea-shore, where Hester Prynne had dwelt. Near this\\nlatter spot, one afternoon, some children were at play,\\nwhen they beheld a tall woman, in a gray robe, approach\\nthe cottage-door. In all those years it had never once\\n^een opened but either she unlocked it, or the decaying\\nwood and iron yielded to her hand, or she glided shadow-\\ndke through these impediments, and, at all events,\\nwent in.\\nOn the threshold she paused, turned partly round,\\nfor, perchance, the idea of entering all alone, and all\\nso changed, the home of so intense a former life, was\\nmore dreary and desolate than even she could bear. But\\nher hesitation was only for an instant, though long\\nenough to display a scarlet letter on her breast.\\nAnd Hester Prynne had returned, and taken up her\\nong-forsaken shame But where was little Pearl If\\nstill aiive, she must now have been in the flush and\\nbloom of early womanhood. None knew nor ever\\nlearned, with the fulness of perfect certaint} whether\\njth% elf-child had gone thus untimely to a maiden grave\\nP^v^telfher her wild, rich nature had been softened and\\nma e capable of a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gentle happi-\\nremainder of Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s life, there", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0322.jp2"}, "323": {"fulltext": "cOxNCLCSlON.\\nwere indications that the recluse of the scarlet letter was\\nthe object of love and interest with some inhabitant of\\nanother land. Letters came, with armorial seals upon\\nthem, though of bearings unknown to English heraldry,\\non the cottage there were articles of comfort and luxury\\nsuch as Hester never cared to use, but which only wealth\\ncould have purchased, and affection have imagined for\\nher. There were trifles, too, little ornaments, beautiful\\ntokens of a continual remembrance, that must have been\\nwrought by delicate fingers, at the impulse of a fond\\nheart. And, once, Hester was seen embroidering a baby-\\ngarment, with such a lavish richness of golden fancy as\\nwould have raised a public tumult, had any infant, thus\\napparelled, been shown to our sober-hued community.\\nIn fine, the gossips of that day believed, and Mr.\\nSurveyor Pue, who. made investigations a century later,\\nbelieved, and one of his recent successors in ofher,\\nmoreover, faithfully believes, that Pearl was not only\\nalive, but married, and happy, and mindful of her mother\\nand that she would most joyfully have entertained that\\nsad and lonely mother at her fireside.\\nBut there was a more real life for Hester Prynne\\nhere, in New England, than in that unknown region\\nwhere Pearl had found a home. Here had been her sin\\nnere, her sorrow and here was yet to be her penitence.\\nShe had returned, therefore, and resumed, ofher ow~n\\nfree will, for not the sternest magistrate of that iron period\\nwould have imposed it, resumed the symbol of which\\nwe have related so dark a tale. Never afterwards did\\nit quit her bosom. But, in the lapse of the toilsome,\\nthoughtful, and self-devoted years that made up Hesters\\nlife, the scarlet letter ceased to be a stigma wh\u00e2\u0080\u0099ch at\\n20", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0323.jp2"}, "324": {"fulltext": "300\\nI HE SCARLET LETTER.\\ntraded the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s scorn and bitterness, and became e\\ntype of something to be sorrowed over, and looked upon\\nwith awe, yet with reverence too. And, as Hester\\nPrynne had no selfish ends, nor lived in any ineasurt\\nfor her own profit and enjoyment, people brought all\\ntheir sorrows and perplexities, and besought her counsel,\\nas one who had herself gone through a mighty trouble.\\nWomen, more especially, in the continually recurring\\ntrials of wounded, wasted, wronged, misplaced, or erring\\nand sinful passion, or with the dreary burden of a\\nheart unyielded, because unvalued and unsought,\\ncame to Hester\u00e2\u0080\u0099s cottage, demanding why they were so\\nwretched, and what the remedy Hester comforted and\\ncounselled them, as best she might. She assured them,\\ntoo, of her firm belief, that, at some brighter period, when\\nthe world should have grown ripe for it, in Heaven\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own\\ntime, a new truth would be revealed, in order to establish\\nthe whole relation between man and woman on a surer\\nground of mutual happiness. Earlier in life, Hester had\\nvainly imagined that she herself might be the destined\\nprophetess, but had long since recognized the impossi-\\nbility that any mission of divine and mysterious truth\\nshould be confided to a woman stained with sin, bowed\\ndown with shame, or even burdened with a life-long sor-\\nrow. The angel and apostle of the coming revelation\\nmust be a woman, indeed, but lofty, pure, and beautiful;\\nand wise, moreover, not through dusky grief, but the\\nethereal medium of joy and showing how sacred love\\nshould make us happy, by the truest test of a life sue\\ncessful to such an end\\nSo said Hester Prynne, and glanced her sad eyes\\ndownward at the scarlet tetter. And. after many many", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0324.jp2"}, "325": {"fulltext": "CONCLUSION.\\n307\\nyears, a new grave was delved, near an old and sunken\\none, in that burial-ground beside which King\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Chapel\\nhas since been built. It was near that old and sunken\\ngrave, yet with a space between, as if the dust of the\\ntwo sleepers had no right to mingle. Yet one tomb-\\nstone served for both. All around, there were monu-\\nments carved with armorial bearings; and on this simple\\nslab of slate as the curious investigator may still dis-\\ncern, and perplex himself with the purport there ap-\\npeared the semblance of an engraved escutcheon. It\\nbore a device, a herald\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wording of which might serve\\nfor a motto and brief description of our now concluded\\nlegend so sombre is it, and relieved only by one ever-\\nglowing point of light gloomier than the shadow\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cOn a field, sable, the letter A, gules;", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0325.jp2"}, "326": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0326.jp2"}, "327": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0327.jp2"}, "328": {"fulltext": "The Beitiiedale Romance. See page 272.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0328.jp2"}, "329": {"fulltext": "THE\\nBLITHEDALE ROMANCE.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0331.jp2"}, "330": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0332.jp2"}, "331": {"fulltext": "PREFACE.\\nIn tlie \u00e2\u0080\u009cBlithedale\u00e2\u0080\u009d of this volume many\\nreaders will, probably, suspect a faint and not very\\nfaithful shadowing of Brook Farm, in Roxbury,\\nwhich (now a little more than ten years ago) was\\noccupied and cultivated by a company of socialists.\\nThe author does not wish to deny that he had this\\ncommunity in his mind, and that (having had the\\ngood fortune, for a time, to be personally connected\\nwith it) he has occasionally availed himself of his\\nactual reminiscences, in the hope of giving a more\\nlife-like tint to the fancy-sketch in the following\\npages. He begs it to be understood, however, that\\nhe has considered the institution itself as not less\\nfairly the subject of fictitious handling than the\\nimaginary personages whom he has introduced\\nthere. His whole treatment of the affair is alto-\\ngether incidental to the main purpose of the ro-\\nmance nor does he put forward the slightest pre-\\ntensions to illustrate a theory, or elicit a conclusion,\\nfavorable or otherwise, in respect to socialism.\\nIn short, his present concern with the socialist", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0333.jp2"}, "332": {"fulltext": "tv\\nPREFACE.\\ncommunity is merely to establish a theatre, a littlo\\nremoved from the highway of ordinary travel, where\\nthe creatures of his brain may play their phantasma-\\ngorical antics, without exposing them to too close a\\ncomparison with the actual events of real lives. In the\\nold countries, with which fiction has long been con-\\nversant, a certain conventional privilege seems to be\\nawarded to the romancer his work is not put exactly\\nside by side with nature and he is allowed a license\\nwith regard to every-day probability, in view of the\\nimproved effects which he is bound to produce thereby.\\nAmong ourselves, on the contrary, there is as yet no\\nsuch Faery Land, so like the real world, that, in a\\nsuitable remoteness, one cannot well tell the difference,\\nbut with an atmosphere of strange enchantment, beheld\\nthrough which the inhabitants have a propriety of their\\nown. This atmosphere is what the American romancer\\nneeds. In its absence, the beings of imagination are\\ncompelled to show themselves in the same category as\\nactually living mortals a necessity that generally\\nrenders the paint and pasteboard of their composition\\nbut too painfully discernible. With the idea of par-\\ntially obviating this difficulty (the sense of which has\\nalways pressed very heavily upon him), the author\\nhas ventured to make free with his old and affection-\\nately remembered home at Brook Farm, as being\\ncertainly the most romantic episode of his own life,", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0334.jp2"}, "333": {"fulltext": "PREFACE.\\nV\\nessentially a day-dream, and yet a fact, and thus\\noffering an available foothold between fiction and real-\\nity. Furthermore, the scene was in good keeping\\nwith the personages whom he desired to introduce.\\nThese characters, he feels it right to say, are entire-\\nly fictitious. It would, indeed (considering how few\\namiable qualities he distributes among his imaginary\\nprogeny), be a most grievous wrong to his former\\nexcellent associates, were the author to allow it to be\\nsupposed that he has been sketching any of their like-\\nnesses. Had he attempted it, they would at least\\nhave recognized the touches of a friendly pencil. But\\nhe has done nothing of the kind. The self-concen-\\ntrated Philanthropist the high-spirited Woman, bruis-\\ning herself against the narrow limitations of her sex\\nthe weakly Maiden, whose tremulous nerves endow\\nher with sibylline attributes the Minor Poet, begin-\\nning life with strenuous aspirations, which die out\\nwith his youthful fervor all these might have been\\nlooked for at Brook Farm, but, by some accident\\nnever made their appearance there.\\nThe author cannot close his reference to this sub-\\nject, without expressing a most earnest wish that\\nsome one of the many cultivated and philosophic\\nminds, which took an interest in that enterprise,\\nmight now give the world its history. Ripley, with\\nwhom rests the honorable paternity of the institution", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0335.jp2"}, "334": {"fulltext": "VI\\nPREFACE.\\nDana, Dwight, Channing, Burton, Parker, for in\\nstance, with others, whom he dares not nane,\\nbecause they veil themselves from the public eye,\\namong these is the ability to convey both the outward\\nnarrative and the inner truth and spirit of the whole\\naffair, together with the lessons which those years of\\nthought and toil must have elaborated, for the behoof\\nof future experimentalists. Even the brilliant How\\nadji might find as rich a theme in his youthful remi-\\nniscences of Brook Farm, and a more novel one,\\nclose at hand as it lies, than those which be haa\\nsince made so distant a pilgrimage to seek, in Syria\\nand along the current of the Nile.\\nQovcoid Mass.), Mat, 1852.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0336.jp2"}, "335": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nL Old Mooddb 9\\nfl. Blithedale 14\\nHI. A Knot op Dreamers ....20\\nIV. The Supper-table 80\\nV. Until Bed-time ...40\\nVL Coverdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Sick-chamber 48\\nVH. The Convalescent 60\\nViil. A Modern Arcadia 7C\\nIX. Hollingsworth, Zenobia, Priscilla 83\\nX. A Visiter from Town 98\\nXI. The Wood-path .107\\nXH. Coverdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Hermitage 118\\nXm. Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Legend 127\\nXIV. Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Pulpit .140\\nXV. A Crisis 153\\nXVI. Leave-tarings .163\\nXVH. The Hotel 172\\nXV ILL The Boarding-house 181\\nXLX. Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Drawing-room 189\\nXX. -They Vanish 198", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0337.jp2"}, "336": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nMTL\\nPAG\u00c2\u00bb\\nXXI. An Old Acquaintance 204\\nXXII. FaUNTLEROY 213\\nXXTTT. A Village- HALL .227\\nXXTV. The Masqueraders 238\\nXXV. The Three together .248\\nXXVI. Zenobia and Coverdale 258\\nXXVIL Midnight 266\\nXXVTU. Blithedale Pasture .277\\n285\\nXXIX. Milks Covkrd ale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Confession", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0338.jp2"}, "337": {"fulltext": "THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE\\nI.\\nOLD HOODIE.\\nThe evening before my departure for Blithedale, 1 was\\nreturning to my bachelor apartments, after attending the\\nwonderful exhibition of the Veiled Lady, when an elderly\\nman, of rather shabby appearance, met me in an obscure\\npart of the street.\\nMr. Coverdale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, softly, can I speak with\\nyou a moment\\nAs I have casually alluded to the Veiled Lady, it may\\nrot be amiss to mention, for the benefit of such of my\\nheaders as are unacquainted with her now forgotten\\ncelebrity, that she was a phenomenon in the mesmeric\\nline one of the earliest that had indicated the birth of a\\nnew science, or the revival of an old humbug. Since\\nthose times, her sisterhood have grown too numerous to\\nattract much individual notice nor, in fact, has any one\\nof them ever come before the public under such skilfully\\ncontrived circumstances of stage-effect as those which\\nat once mystified and illuminated the remarkable per-\\nformances of the lady in question. Now-a-days, in tne\\nmanagement of his \u00e2\u0080\u009csubject,\u00e2\u0080\u009d \u00e2\u0080\u009cclairvoyant,\u00e2\u0080\u009d or \u00e2\u0080\u009cme-\\ndium,\u00e2\u0080\u009d the exhibitor affects the simplicity and openness", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0339.jp2"}, "338": {"fulltext": "10\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nof scientific experiment; and even if he piofesa to tread\\na step or two across the boundaries of the spiritual world\\nyet carries with him the laws of our actual life, and\\nextends them over his preternatural conquests. Twelve\\nor fifteen years ago, on the contrary, all the arts of mys-\\nterious arrangement, of picturesque disposition, and artis-\\ntically contrasted light and shade, were made available,\\nin order to set the apparent miracle in the strongest\\nattitude of opposition to ordinary facts. In the case of\\nthe Veiled Lady, moreover, the interest of the spectator\\nwas further wrought up by the enigma of her identity,\\nand an absurd rumor (probably set afloat by the exhib-\\nitor, and at one time very prevalent), that a beautiful\\nyoung lady, of family and fortune, was enshrouded\\nwithin the misty drapery of the veil. It was white,\\nwith somewhat of a subdued silver sheen, like the sunny\\nside of a cloud and, failing over the wearer from head\\nto foot, was supposed to insulate her from the material\\nworld, from time and space, and to endow her with many\\nof the privileges of a disembodied spirit.\\nHer pretensions, however, whether miraculous or oth-\\nerwise, have little to do with the present narrative;\\nexcept, indeed, that I had propounded, for the Veiled\\nLady\u00e2\u0080\u0099s prophetic solution, a query as to the success of\\nour Blithedale enterprise. The response, by the by, was of\\nthe true Sibylline stamp, nonsensical in its first aspect,\\nyet, on closer study, unfolding a variety of interpreta-\\ntions, one of which has certainly accorded with the\\nevent. I was turning over this riddle in my mind, and\\ntrying to catch its slippery purport by the tail^ when the\\nold man above mentioned intenupted me.\\nMr. Coverdale Mr. Coverdale said he, repeat-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0340.jp2"}, "339": {"fulltext": "OLD MOODIE.\\n11\\nmg my ns me t arise, in order to make up for the hesitat-\\ning. and ineffectual way in which he uttered it. I ask\\nyour pardon, sir, but I hear you are going to Blithedale\\nto-morrow.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI knew the pale, elderly face, with the red-tipt nose,\\nand the patch over one eye and likewise saw something\\ncharacteristic in the old fellow\u00e2\u0080\u0099s way of standing under\\nthe arch a gate, only revealing enough of himself to\\nmake me recognize him as an acquaintance. He was a\\nvery shy personage, this Mr. Moodie and the trait was\\nthe more singular, as his mode of getting his bread neces-\\nsarily brought him into the stir and hubbub of the world\\nmore than the generality of men.\\nY *5, Mr. Moodie.\u00e2\u0080\u009d I answered, wondering what\\ninterest he could take in the fact, it is my intention to\\ngo to Blithedale to-morrow. Can T be of any service to\\nyou before my departure\\nIf you pleased, Mr. Coverdale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, you might\\nco me a very great favor.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nA very great one repeated I, in a tone that must\\nhave expressed but little alacrity of beneficence, although\\nI was ready to do the old man any amount of kindness\\ninvolving no special trouble to myself. \u00e2\u0080\u009cA very great\\nfavor, do you say? My time is brief, Mr. Moodie, and\\nI have a good many preparations to make. But be good\\nenough to tell me what you wish.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAh, sir,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied Old Moodie, \u00e2\u0080\u009cI don\u00e2\u0080\u0099t quite like to\\ndo that and, on further thoughts, Mr. Coverdale, per-\\nhaps 1 had better apply to some older gentleman, or to\\nsome lady, if you would have the kindness to make me\\nKnown to one, who may happen to be going to Blithedale.\\nITou are a young man, sir", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0341.jp2"}, "340": {"fulltext": "12\\nTHE, BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nDoes that fact lessen my availability for youi pui^*\\npose asked I. However, if an older man will suit\\nyou better, there is Mr. Hollingsworth, who has three\\nor four years the advantage of me in age, and is a much\\nmore solid character, and a philanthropist to boot. I am\\nonly a poet, and, so the critics tell me, no great affair at\\nthat But what can this business be, Mr. Moodie It\\nbegins to interest me especially since your hint that a\\nlady\u00e2\u0080\u0099s influence might be found desirable. Come, I am\\nreally anxious to be of service to you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nBut the old fellow, in his civil and demure manner,\\nwas both freakish and obstinate and he had now taken\\nsome notion or other into his head that made him hesi-\\ntate in his former design.\\nI wonder, sir,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, whether you know a lady\\nwhom they call Zenobia\\nNot personally,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I answered, although 1 expect\\nthat pleasure to-morrow, as she has got the start of the\\nrest of us, and is already a resident at Blithedale. But\\nhave you a literary turn, Mr. Moodie? or have you\\ntaken up the advocacy of women\u00e2\u0080\u0099s rights or what else\\ncan have interested you in this lady Zenobia, by the\\nby, as I suppose you know, is merely her public name\\na sort of mask in which she comes before the world,\\nretaining all the privileges of privacy, a contrivance,\\nin short, like the white drapery of the Veiled Lady, only\\na little more transparent. But it is late. Will you tell\\nme what I can do for you\\nPlease to excuse me to-night, Mr. Coverdale,\u00e2\u0080\u0099 said\\nMoodie. You are very kind; but I am afraid I have\\ntroubled you, when, after all, there may be no need\\nPerhaps, with your good leave, I will come to your lodg-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0342.jp2"}, "341": {"fulltext": "OLD MOODIE.\\n13\\nmgs to-morrow morning, before you set out for Blithe-\\ndale. I wish you a good-night, sir, and beg pardon for\\nstopping you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd so he slipt away and, as he did not show him-\\nself the next morning, it was only through subsequent\\nevents that I ever arrived at a plausible conjecture\\nas to what his business could have been. Arriving at\\nmy room, I threw a lump of cannel coal upon the grate,\\nlighted a cigar, and spent an hour in musings of e^ery\\nhue, from the brightest to the most sombre being, in\\ntruth, not so very confident as at some former periods\\nthat this final step, which would mix me up irrevocably\\nwith the Blithedale affair, was the wisest that could pos-\\nsibly be taken. It was nothing short of midnight when\\nI went to bed, after drinking a glass of particularly\\nfine sherry, on which I used to pride myself, in those\\ndays. It was the very last bottle; and I finished it,\\nwith a friend, the next forenoon, before setting out fo?\\nB ithedale.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0343.jp2"}, "342": {"fulltext": "II.\\nBLITIIEDALE.\\nThere can hardly remaip me (who am really\\ngetting to be a frosty bachelor, with another white hair,\\nevery week or so, in my moustache), there can hardly\\nflicker up again so cheery a blaze upon the hearth, as\\nthat which I remember, the next day, at Blithedale. It\\nwas a tvood-fire, in the parlor of an old farm-house, on\\nan April afternoon, but with the fitful gusts of a win-\\ntry snow-storm roaring in the chimney. Vividly does\\nthat fireside re-create itself, as I rake away the ashes\\nfrom the embers in my memory, and blow them up with\\na sigh, for lack of more inspring breath. Vividly, fol\\nan instant, but, anon, with the dimmest gleam, and w\u00e2\u0080\u0099th\\n]ust as little fervency for my heart as for my finger-\\nends The stanch oaken logs were long ago burnt\\nout. Their genial glow must be represented, if at all\\nby the merest phosphoric glimmer, like that which\\nexudes, rather than shines, from damp fragments of\\ndecayed trees, deluding the benighted wanderer through\\na forest. Around such chill mockery of a fire some\\nfew of us might sit on the withered leaves, spreading\\nout each a palm towards the imaginary warmth, and\\ntalk over our exploded scheme for beginning the life of\\nParadise anew.\\nParadise, indeed! Nobody else in the world, I am\\nbold to affirm -\u00e2\u0080\u0094nobody, at least, in our bleak little", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0344.jp2"}, "343": {"fulltext": "BLITHE DALE.\\n15\\nworld of New England, had dreamed of Paradise\\nthat day, except as the pole suggests the tropic. Nor,\\nwith such materials as were at hai d, could the most\\nskilful architect have constructed any better imitation of\\nEve\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bower than might be seen in the snow-hut of an\\nEsquimaux. But we made a summer of it, in spite of\\nthe wild drifts.\\nIt was an April day, as already hinted, and well towards\\nthe middle of the month. When morning dawned\\nupon me, in town, its temperature was mild enough to\\nbe pronounced even balmy, by a lodger, like myself,\\nin one of the midmost houses of a brick block, each\\nhouse partaking of the warmth of all the rest, besides\\nthe sultriness of its individual furnace-heat. But,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009ctowards noon, there had come snow, driven along the\\nstreet by a north-easterly blast, and whitening the roofs\\nand side-walks with a business-like perseverance that\\nwould have done credit to our severest January tempest.\\nIt set about its task apparently as much in earnest as\\nif it had been guaranteed from a thaw for months to\\ncome. The greater, surely, was my heroism, when, puff-\\ning out a final whiff of cigar-smoke, I quitted my cosey\\npair of bachelor-rooms, with a good fire burning in the\\ngrate, and a closet right at hand, where there was still a\\nbottle or two in the champagne-basket, and a residuum\\nof claret in a box, quitted, I say, these comfortable\\nquarters, and plunged into the heart of the pitiless snow-\\nstorm, in quest of a better life.\\nThe better life Possibly, it would hardly look so,\\nnow it is enough if it looked so then. The greatest\\nobstacle to being heroic is the doubt whether one may\\nnot be going to prove one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s self a fool; the truest heroism", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0345.jp2"}, "344": {"fulltext": "16\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE\\nis, to resist tfte doubt and the profoundest wisdom to\\nknow when it ought to be resisted, and when to be\\nobeyed.\\nYet, after all, let us acknowledge it wiser, if not more\\nsagacious, to follow out one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s day-dream to its natural con-\\nsummation, although, if the vision have been worth the\\nhaving, it is certain never to be consummated otherwise\\nthan by a failure. And what of that Its airiest frag-\\nments, impalpable as they may be, will possess a value\\nthat lurks not in the most ponderous realities of any\\npracticable scheme. They are not the rubbish of the\\nmind. Whatever else I may repent of, therefore, let it\\nbe reckoned neither among my sins nor follies that I\\nonce had faith and force enough to form generous hopes\\nof the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s destiny, yes and to do what in me\\nlay for their accomplishment; even to the extent of\\nquitting a warm fireside, flinging away a freshly-lighted\\ncigar, and travelling far beyond the strike of city clocks,\\nthrough a drifting snow-storm.\\nThere were four of us who rode together through the\\nstorm and Hollingsworth, who had agreed to be of the\\nnumber, was accidentally delayed, and set forth at a later\\nhour alone. As we threaded the streets, I remember\\nhow the buildings on either side seemed to press too\\nclosely upon us, insomuch that our mighty hearts found\\nbarely room enough to throb between them. The snow-\\nfall, too, looked inexpressibly dreary (I had almost\\ncabled it dingy), coming down through an atmosphere\\nof city smoke, and alighting on the side-walk only to be\\nmoulded into the impress of somebody\u00e2\u0080\u0099s patched boot or\\novei-shoe. Thus the track of an old conventionalism\\nwas visible on what was freshest from the sky. Rut", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0346.jp2"}, "345": {"fulltext": "BLITHE r ALE.\\n17\\n^hen wo left the pavements, and our n uffled hoof*\\ntramps beat upon a desolate extent of country road, and\\nwere effaced by the unfettered blast as soon as stamped,\\nthen there was better air to breathe. Air that had\\nnot been breathed once and again air that had not\\nbeen spoken into words of falsehood, formality and\\nerror, like all the air of the dusky city\\nHow pleasant it is remarked I, while the snow-\\ntlakes flew into my mouth the moment it was opened.\\nHow very mild and balmy is this country air\\nAh, Coverdale, don\u00e2\u0080\u0099t laugh at what little enthusiasm\\nyou have left! said one of my companions. I main-\\ntain that this nitrous atmosphere is really exhilarating\\nand, at any rate, we can never call ourselves regen-\\nerated men till a February north-easter shall be as grate-\\nful to us as the softest breeze of June.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nSo we all of us took courage, riding fleetly and mer-\\nrily along, by stone-fences that were half-buried in the\\nwave-like drifts and through patches of woodland,\\nwhere the tree-trunks opposed a snow-encrusted side\\ntowards the north-east; and within ken of deserted\\nvillas, with no foot-prints in their avenues and past\\nscattered dwellings, whence puffed the smoke of country\\nfires, strongly impregnated with the pungent aroma of\\nburning peat. Sometimes, encountering a traveller, we\\nshouted a friendly greeting and he, unmuffling his ears\\nto the bluster and the snow-spray, and listening eagerly,\\nappeared to think our courtesy worth less than the\\ntrouble which it cost him. The churl He understood\\nthe shrill whistle of the blast, but had no intelligence\\nfor our blithe tones of brotherhood. This lack of faith\\nin our cordial sympathy, on the traveller\u00e2\u0080\u0099s part, was one\\no", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0347.jp2"}, "346": {"fulltext": "THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\namong the innumerable tokens how difficult a task we\\nnad in hand, for the reformation of the world. We rode\\non, however, with still unflagging spirits, and made such\\ngood companionship with the tempest that, at our jour-\\nney\u00e2\u0080\u0099s end, we professed ourselves almost loth to bid the\\nrude blusterer good-by. But, to own the truth, I was\\nlittle better than an icicle, and began to be suspicious\\nthat I had caught a fearful cold.\\nAnd now we were seated by the brisk fireside of the\\nold farm-house, the same fire that glimmers so faintly\\namong my reminiscences at the beginning of this chap-\\nter. There we sat, with the snow melting out of our\\nhair and beards, and our faces all a-blaze, what with the\\npast inclemency and present warmth. It was, indeed, a\\nright good fire that we found awaiting us, built up ot\\ngreat, rough logs, and knotty limbs, and splintered frag\\nments, of an oak-tree, such as farmers are wont to keep\\nfor their own hearths, since these crooked and unman-\\nageable boughs could never be measured into merchanta-\\nble cords for the market. A family of the old Pilgrims\\nmight have swung their kettle over precisely such a fire\\nas this, only, no doubt, a bigger one and, contrasting it\\nwith my coal-grate, I felt so much the more that we had\\ntransported ourselves a world-wide distance from the\\nsystem of society that shackled us at breakfast-time.\\nGood, comfortable Mrs. Foster (the wife of stout Silas\\nFoster, who was to manage the farm, at a fair stipend,\\nand be our tutor in the art of husbandry) bade us a\\nhearty welcome. At her back a back of generous\\nbreadth appeared two young women, smiling most\\nhospitably, but looking rather awkward withal, as not\\nwell knowing what was to be their position in our new", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0348.jp2"}, "347": {"fulltext": "BLITHE DALE.\\n9\\narrangement of the world. We shook hands affection-\\nately, all round, and congratulated ourselves that the\\nblessed state of brotherhood and sisterhood, at which we\\naimed, might fairly be dated from this moment. Our\\ngreetings were hardly concluded, when the door opened,\\nand Zenobia, whom I had never before seen, important\\nas was her place in our enterprise, Zenobia entered\\nthe parlor.\\nThis (as the reader, if at all acquainted with our lit-\\nerary biography, need scarcely be told) was not her re\\nname. She had assumed it, in the first instance, as her\\nmagazine signature and, as it accorded well with some-\\nthing imperial which her friends attributed to this lady\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nfigure and deportment, they, half-laughingly, adopted it\\nin their familiar intercourse with her. She took the\\nappellation in good part, and even encouraged its con\\nstant use which, in fact, was thus far appropriate, that\\nour Zenobia however humble looked her new philoso-\\nphy had as much native pride as any queen would\\nhave known what to do with", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0349.jp2"}, "348": {"fulltext": "III.\\nA KNOT OF DREAMERS.\\nZenobia bade us welcome, in a fine, frank- mellc W\\nvoice, and gave each of us her hand, which was verv\\nsoft and warm. She had something appropriate, I recol-\\nlect, to say to every individual and what she said to\\nmyself was this\\nI have long wished to know you, Mr. Coverdale, and\\nto thank you for your beautiful poetry, some of which I\\nhave learned by heart; or, rather, it has stolen into my\\nmemory, without my exercising any choice or volition\\nabout the matter. Of course permit me to say you\\ndo not think of relinquishing an occupation in which\\nyou have done yourself so much credit. I would almost\\nrather give you up as an associate, than that the world\\nshould lose one of its true poets\\nAh, no there will not be the slightest danger of\\nthat, especially after this inestimable praise from Zeno-\\nbia,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, smiling, and blushing, no doubt, with excess\\nof pleasure. \u00e2\u0080\u009cI hope, on the contrary, now to produce\\nsomething that shall really deserve to be called poetry,\\ntrue, strong, natural, and sweet, as is the life which\\nwe are going to lead, something that shall have the\\nnotes of wild birds twittering through it, or a strain like\\nthe wind-anthems in the woods, as the case may be.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIs it irksome to you to hear your own verses sung\\nasked Zenobia, with a gracious smile. If so, I am", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0350.jp2"}, "349": {"fulltext": "KNOT OF DREAMERS.\\n2\\nvery sorry, for you will certainly hear me singing them,\\nsometimes, in the summer evenings.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nOf all things,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered I, that is what will delight\\nme most.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhile this passed, and while she spoke to my com\\npanions, I was taking note of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s aspect and h\\nimpressed itself on me so distinctly, that I can now sum\\nmon her up, like a ghost, a little wanner than the life\\nbut otherwise identical with it. She was dressed as\\nsimply as possible, in an American print (I think the\\ndry goods people call it so), but with a silken kerchief,\\nbetween which and her gown there was one glimpse of\\na white shoulder. It struck me as a great piece of good\\nfortune that there should be just that glimpse. Her hair,\\nwhich was dark, glossy, and of singular abundance, was\\nput up rather soberly and primly, without curls, or other\\nornament, except a single flower. It was an exotic, of\\nrare beauty, and as fresh as if the hot-house gardener\\nhad just dipt it from the stem. That flower has struck\\ndeep root into my memory. I can both see it and smell\\nit, at this moment. So brilliant, so rare, so costly, as it\\nmust have been, and yet enduring only for a day, it was\\nmore indicative of the pride and pomp which had a lux-\\nuriant growth in Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character than if a great\\ndiamond had sparkled among her hair.\\nHer hand, though very soft, was larger than most women\\nwould like to have, or than they could afford to have,\\nthough not a whit too large in proport on with the spa-\\ncious plan of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s entire development. It did one\\ngood to see a fine intellect (as hers really was, although,\\nits natural tendency lay in another direction than\\ntowards literature) so fitly cased. She was, indeed, an", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0351.jp2"}, "350": {"fulltext": "22\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nadmirable figure of a woman, just on the hither verge\\nof her richest maturity, with a combination of features\\nwhich it is safe to call remarkably beautiful, even if some\\nfastidious persons might pronounce them a little defi-\\ncient in softness and delicacy. But we find enough of\\nthose attributes everywhere. Preferable by way of\\nvariety, at least was Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bloom, health, and\\nvigor, which she possessed in such overflow that a man\\nmight well have fallen in love with her for their sake\\nonly. In her quiet moods, she seemed rather indolent\\nbut when really in earnest, particularly if there were a\\nspice of bitter feeling, she grew all alive, to her finger-\\ntips.\\nI am the first comer,\u00e2\u0080\u009d Zenobia went on to say, while\\nher smile beamed warmth upon us all so I take the\\npart of hostess, lor to-day, and welcome you as if to my\\nown fireside. You shall be my guests, too, at supper.\\nTo-morrow, if you please, we will be brethren and sis-\\nters, and begin our new life from daybreak.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHave we our various parts assigned asked some\\none.\\nO, we of the softer sex,\u00e2\u0080\u009d responded Zenobia, with\\nher mellow, almost broad laugh, most delectable to\\nhear, but not in the least like an ordinary woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nlaugh, we women (there are four of us here already)\\nwill take the domestic and indoor part of the business, as\\na matter of course. To bake, to boil, to roast, to fry, to\\nstew, to wash, and iron, and scrub, and sweep, and,\\nat our idler intervals, to repose ourselves on knitting ana\\nsewing, these, I suppose, must be feminine occupa-\\ntions, for the present. By and by, perhaps, when ou.\\nmd vidual adaptations begin to develop themselves it", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0352.jp2"}, "351": {"fulltext": "A KNOT OF DREAMERS.\\n23\\nmay be that some of us who wear the petticoat will go\\na-field, and leave the weaker brethren to take our place i\\nin the iritohjn.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhat a pity, I remarked, that the kitchen, and\\nthe house-work generally, cannot be left out of our sys-\\ntem altogether! It is odd enough that the kind of\\nlabor which falls to the lot of women is just that which\\nchiefly distinguishes artificial life the life of degene-\\nrated mortals from the life of Paradise. Eve had no\\ndinner-pot, and no clothes to mend, and no washing-\\nday.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI am afraid,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia, with mirth gleaming out\\nof her eyes, we shall find some difficulty in adopting\\nthe Paradisiacal system for at least a month to come.\\nLook at that snow-drift sweeping past the window\\nAre there any figs ripe, do you think Have the pine-\\napples been gathered, to-day Would you like a bread-\\nfruit, or a cocoa-nut Shall I run out and pluck you\\nsome roses No, no, Mr. Coverdale the only flower\\nhereabouts is the one in my hair, which I got out of a\\ngreen-house this morning. As for the garb of Eden.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nadded she, shivering playfully, I shall not assume it\\ntill after May-day\\nAssuredly, Zenobia could not have intended it the\\nfault must have been entirely in my imagination. But\\nthese last words, together with something in her man-\\nner, irresistibly brought up a picture of that fine, per-\\nfectly developed figure, in Eve\u00e2\u0080\u0099s earliest garment. Her\\nfree, careless, generous modes of expression, often had\\nthis effect, of creating images, which, though pure, are\\nhardly felt to be quite decorous when bom of a thought\\nthat passes between man and woman* I imputed it, at", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0353.jp2"}, "352": {"fulltext": "4\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nthat time, to Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s noble courage, conscious of no\\nharm, and scorning the petty restraints which take the\\nlife and color out of other women\u00e2\u0080\u0099s conversation. There\\nwas another peculiarity about her. We seldom meei,\\nwith women, now-a-days, and in this country, who\\nimpress us as being women at all their sex fades\\naway, and goes for nothing, in ordinary intercourse.\\nNot so with Zenobia. One felt an influence breathing\\nout of her such as we might suppose to come from Eve,\\nwhen she was just made, and her Creator brought her\\nto Adam, saying, \u00e2\u0080\u009cBehold! here is a woman!\u00e2\u0080\u009d Not\\nthat I would convey the idea of especial gentleness,\\ngrace, modesty and shyness, but of a certain warm and\\nrich characteristic, which seems, for the most part, to\\nhave been refined away out of the feminine system.\\nAnd now,\u00e2\u0080\u009d continued Zenobia, I must go and help\\nget supper. Do you think you can be content, instead\\nof figs, pine-apples, and all the other delicacies of Adam\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nsupper-table, with tea nd toast, and a certain modest\\nsupply of ham and tongue, which, with the instinct of a\\nhousewife, I brought hither in a basket? And there\\nshall be bread and milk, too, if the innocence of your\\ntaste demands it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe whole sisterhood now went about their domestic\\navocations, utterly declining our offers to assist, further\\nthan by bringing wood, for the kitchen-fire, from a huge\\npile m the back yard. After heaping up more than a\\nsufficient quantity, we returned to the sitting-room, drew\\nour chairs close to the hearth, and began to talk over\\nour prospects. Soon, with a tremendous stamping in\\nthe entry, appeared Silas Foster, lank, stalwart, uncouth,\\nand griiy-beardcd. He came from foddering the cattle", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0354.jp2"}, "353": {"fulltext": "A KNOT OF JlKEAMEKS.\\n25\\nin the barn, and from the field, where he had leen\\nploughing, until the depth of the snow rendered it im-\\npossible to draw a furrow. He greeted us in pretty\\nmuch the same tone as if he were speaking to his oxen,\\ntook a quid from his iron tobacco-box, pulled off his wet\\ncow-hide boots, and sat down before the fire in his\\nstocking-feet. The steam arose from his soaked gar-\\nments, so that the stout yeoman looked vaporous and\\nspectre-like.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, folks,\u00e2\u0080\u009d remarked Silas, \u00e2\u0080\u009cyou\u00e2\u0080\u0099ll be wishing\\nyourselves back to town again, if this weather holds.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd, true enough, there was a look of gloom, as the\\ntwilight fell silently and sadly out of the sky, its gray\\nor sable flakes intermingling themselves with the fast\\nviescending snow. The storm, in its evening aspect,\\nwas decidedly dreary. It seemed to have arisen for our\\nespecial behoof, a symbol of the cold, desolate, dis-\\ntrustful phantoms that invariably haunt the mind, on the\\neve of adventurous enterprises, to warn us back within\\nthe boundaries of ordinary life.\\nBut our courage did not quail. We would not allow\\nourselves to be depressed by the snow-drift trailing past\\nthe window, any more than if it had been the sigh of a\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2summer wind among rustling boughs. There have been\\nfew brighter seasons for us than that. If e\\\\er men\\nmight lawfully dream awake, and give utterance to their\\nwildest visions without dread of laughter or scorn on\\nthe part of the audience, yes, and speak of earthly\\nhappiness, for themselves and mankind, as an object tc\\nbe hopefully striven for, and probably attained, we\\nwho made that little semi-circle round the blazing fire,\\nwere those very men. We had left the rus y ir m", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0355.jp2"}, "354": {"fulltext": "2tf THE BL1THEDALE ROMANCE.\\nframe-work of society behind us we had broken through\\nmany hindran:es that are powerful enough to keep most\\npeople on the weary tread-mill of the established system,\\neven while they feel its irksomeness almost as intolera-\\nble as we did. We had stept down from the pulpit we\\nhad flung aside the pen we had shut up the ledger we\\nhad thrown off that sweet, bewitching, enervating indo-\\nlence, which is better, after all, than most of the enjoy-\\nments within mortal grasp. It was our purpose a\\ngenerous one, certainly, and absurd, no doubt, in full\\nproportion with its generosity to give up whatever we\\nhad heretofore attained, for the sake of showing mankind\\nthe example of a life governed by other than the false\\nand cruel principles on which human society has all\\nalong been based.\\nAnd, first of all, we had divorced ourselves from\\npride, and were striving to supply its place with familiar\\nlove. We meant to lessen the laboring man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s great\\nburthen of toil, by performing our due share of it at the\\ncost of our own thews and sinews. We sought our\\nprofit by mutual aid, instead of wresting it by the\\nstrong hand from an enemy, or filching it craftily\\nfrom those less shrewd than ourselves (if, indeed, there\\nwere any such in New England), or winning it by self-\\nish competition with a neighbor in one or another of\\nwhich fashions every son of woman both perpetrates and\\nsuffers his share of the common evil, whether he chooses\\nit or no. And, as the basis of our institution, we pur-\\nposed to offer up the earnest toil of our bodies, as a\\nprayer no less than an effort for the advancement of oui\\nrace.\\nTherefore, if we built splendid castles (phalansteries", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0356.jp2"}, "355": {"fulltext": "A KNOT OF DREAMERS.\\n21\\nperhaps they might be more fitly called), and pictured\\nbeautiful scenes, among the fervid coals of the hearth\\naround which we were clustering, and if all went to rack\\nwith the crumbling embers, and have never since arisen\\nout of the ashes, let us take to ourselves no shame. In\\nmy own behalf, I rejoice that I could once think better\\nof the woild\u00e2\u0080\u0099s improvability than it deserved. It is a\\nmistake into which men seldom fall twice in a lifetime\\nor, if so, the rarer and higher is the nature that can thus\\nmagnanimously persist in error.\\nStout Silas Foster mingled little in our conversation\\nbut when he did speak, it was very much to some\\npractical purpose. For instance\\nWhich man among you,\u00e2\u0080\u009d quoth he, is the best\\njudge of swine? Some of us must go to the next\\nBrighton fair, and buy half a dozen pigs.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPigs Good heavens had we come out from among\\nthe swinish multitude for this And, again, in refer-\\nence to some discussion about raising early vegetables\\nfor the market\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWe shall never make any hand at market-garden\\ning,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Silas Foster, \u00e2\u0080\u009cunless the women folks will\\nundertake to do all the weeding. We haven\u00e2\u0080\u0099t team\\nenough for that and the regular farm-work, reckoning\\nthree of you city folks as worth one common field-hand.\\nNo, no I tell you, we should have to get up a little\\ntoo early in the morning, to compete with the market-\\ngardeners round Boston.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt struck me as rather odd, that one of the first ques-\\ntions raised, after our separation from the greedy, strug-\\ngling, self-seeking world, should relate to the possibility\\ngetting th? advantage over the outside barbarians i\u00c2\u00bb", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0357.jp2"}, "356": {"fulltext": "*29 1Hfc BLITHEDALE ROMANCE\\ntheir own field of labor. But, to own the truth, I very\\nsoon became sensible that, as regarded society at large,\\nwe stood in a position of new hostility, rather than new\\nbrotherhood. Nor could this fail to be the case, in some\\ndegree, until the bigger and better half of society should\\nrange itself on our side. Constituting so pitiful a\\nminority as now, we were inevitably estranged from the\\nrest of mankind in pretty fair proportion with the strict-\\nness of our mutual bond among ourselves.\\nThis dawning idea, however, was driven back into\\nmy inner consciousness by the entrance of Zenobia.\\nShe came with the welcome intelligence that supper\\nwas on the table. Looking at herself in the glass, and\\nperceiving that her one magnificent flower had grown\\nrather languid (probably by being exposed to the fer-\\nvency of the kitchen fire), she flung it on the floor, as\\nunconcernedly as a village girl would throw away a\\nfaded violet. The action seemed proper to her charac-\\nter, although, methought, it would still more have befitted\\nthe bounteous nature of this beautiful woman to scatter\\nfresh flowers from her hand, and to revive faded ones by\\nher touch. Nevertheless, it was a singular but irresisti-\\nble effect; the presence of Zenobia caused our heroic\\nenterprise to show like an illusion, a masquerade, a\\npastoral, a counterfeit Arcadia, in w hich we grown-up\\nmen and women were making a play-day of the years\\nthat were given us to live in. I tried to analyze this\\nimpression, but not with much success.\\nIt really vexes me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed Zenobia, as we left the\\nroom, that Mr. Hollingsworth should be such a laggard\\nl should not have thought him at all the sort of person\\nto be turned back by a puff of contrary wind, or a few\\nsnow-flakes drifting into his face.\u00e2\u0080\u0099", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0358.jp2"}, "357": {"fulltext": "A KNOT Of DREAMERS.\\n29\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0098Do you know Hollingsworth personally?\u00e2\u0080\u009d I inquired.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNo; oniy as an auditor auditress, I mean of\\nsome of his lectures,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she. What a voice he\\nhas and what a man he is Yet not so much an\\nintellectual man, I should say, as a great heart; a*,\\nleast, he moved me more deeply than I think myself\\ncapable of being moved, except by the stioke of a true,\\nstrong heart against my own. It is a sad pity that he\\nshould have devoted his glorious powers to such a\\ngrimy, unbeautiful and positively hopeless object as\\nthis reformation of criminals, about which he makes\\nhimself and his wretchedly small audiences so very\\nmiserable. To tell you a secret, I never could tolerate\\na philanthropist before. Could you\\nBy no means,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I answered neithe7 can I now.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThey are, indeed, an odiously disagreeable set of\\nmortals,\u00e2\u0080\u009d continued Zenobia. I should like Mr. Hol-\\nlingsworth a great deal better, if the philanthropy had\\nbeen left out. At all events, as a mere matter of taste,\\nI wish he would let the bad people alone, and try to\\nbenefit those who are not already past his help. Do\\nyou suppose he will be content to spend his life, or even\\na few months of it, among tolerably virtuous and com-\\nfortable individuals, like ourselves?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nUpon my word, I doubt it,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I. If we wish to\\nKeep him with us, we must systematically commit, at\\nleast, one crime apiece Mere peccadilloes will not sat-\\nisfy him.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nZenobia turned, sidelong, a strange kind of n glance\\nupon me but, before I could make out what it meant,\\nwe had entered the kitchen, where, in accordance witn\\nthe rustic simplicity of our new life, the suppe .-table\\nwas spread.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0359.jp2"}, "358": {"fulltext": "IV.\\nTHE SUPPER-TABLE.\\nThe pleasant fire-light! I must still kee; harping\\non it.\\nThe kitchen-hearth had an old-fashioned breadth,\\ndepth and spaciousness, far within which lay what\\nseemed the butt of a good-sized oak-tree, with the moist-\\nure bubbling merrily out of both ends. It was npw\\nhalf an hour beyond dusk. The blaze from an armful\\nof substantial sticks, rendered more combustible by\\nbrush-wood and pine, flickered powerfully on the smoke-\\nblackened walls, and so cheered our spirits that we\\ncared not what inclemency might rage and roar on the\\nother side of our illuminated windows. A yet sultrier\\nwarmth was bestowed by a goodly quantity of peat,\\nwhich was crumbling to white ashes among the burning\\nbrands, and incensed the kitchen with its not ungrateful\\nfragrance. The exuberance of this household fire\\nwould alone have sufficed to bespeak us no true farm-\\ners for the New England yeoman, if he have the mis-\\nfortune to dwell within practicable distance of a wood-\\nmarket, is as niggardly of each stick as if it were a bar\\nof California gold.\\nBut it was fortunate for us, on that wintry eve of our\\nuntried life, to enjoy the warm and radiant luxury of a\\nsomewhat too abundant fire. If it served no other pur-\\npose it made the men look so full of youth, warm blood.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0360.jp2"}, "359": {"fulltext": "THE SUPPER-TABLE.\\n3\\nand hope, and the women such of them, at least, as were\\nanywise convertible by its magic so very beautiful, that\\nI would cheerfully have spent my last dollar to prolong\\nthe bhze. As for Zenobia, there was a glow in her\\ncheeks that made me think of Pandora, fresh from Vul-\\ncan\u00e2\u0080\u0099s workshop, and full of the celestial warmth by dint\\nof which he had tempered and moulded her.\\nTake your places, my dear friends all,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried she\\nseat yourselves without ceremony, and you shall be\\nmade happy with such tea as not many of the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nworking-people, except yourselves, will find in their cups\\nto-night. After this one supper, you may drink butter-\\nmilk, if you please. To-night we will quaff this nectar,\\nwhich, I assure you, could not be bought with gold.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWe all sat down, grisly Silas Foster, his rotund\\nhelpmate, and the two bouncing handmaidens, included;\\nand looked at one another in a friendly but rather\\nawkward way. It was the first practical trial of our\\ntheories of equal brotherhood and sisterhood and we\\npeople of superior cultivation and refinement (for as such,\\nI presume, we unhesitatingly reckoned ourselves) felt as\\nf something were already accomplished towards the mil-\\nlennium of love. The truth is, however, that the labor-\\ning-oar was with our unpolished companions it being\\nfar easier to condescend than to accept of condescension.\\nNeither did I refrain from questioning, in secret,\\nwhether some of us and Zenobia among the rest\\nwould so quietly have taken our places among these\\ngood people, save for the cherished consciousness that it\\nwas not by necessity, but choice. Though we saw fit to\\ndrink our tea out of earthen cups to-night, and in\\nearthen company, it was at our own option to use pic-", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0361.jp2"}, "360": {"fulltext": "32\\nTHE B1.ITHEDALE KOMANCE.\\ntured porcelain and handle silver forks again to-morrow\\nThis same salvo, as to the power of regaining our forme:\\nposition, contributed much, I fear, to the equanimity\\nwith which we subsequently bore many of the hard-\\nships and humiliations of a life of toil. If ever I have\\ndeserved (which has not often been the case, and, I think,\\nnever), but if ever I did deserve to be soundly cuffed by\\na fellow-mortal, for secretly putting weight upon some\\nimaginary social advantage, it must have been while I\\nwas striving to prove myself ostentatiously his equal,\\nand no more. It was while I sat beside him on his cob-\\nbler\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bench, or clinked my hoe against his own in the\\ncorn-field, or broke the same crust of bread, my earth-\\ngrimed hand to his, at our noon-tide lunch. The\\npoor, proud man shoui l look at both sides of sympathy\\niike this.\\nThe silence which followed upon our sitting down to\\ntable grew rather oppressive indeed, it was hardly\\nbroken by a word, during the first round of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nfragrant tea.\\nI hope,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said 1, at last, that our blazing windows\\nfvill be visible a great way off. There is nothing so\\npleasant and encouraging to a solitary traveller, on a\\nstormy night, as a flood of fire-light seen amid the\\ngloom. These ruddy window-panes cannot fail tc cheer\\nthe hearts of all that look at them. Are they not warm\\nand bright with the beacon-fire which we have kindled\\nfor humanity\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThe blaze of that brush-wood will only last a\\nminute or two longer,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed Silas Foster; but\\nwhether he meant to insinuate that our moral illumina-\\ntion would have as briei a term, I cannot say.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0362.jp2"}, "361": {"fulltext": "THE SUPPER-TABLE.\\ns\\nMeantime, said Zenobia, it may seive to guide\\nsome wayfarer to a shelter.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd, just as she said this, there came a knock at tho\\nhouse-door.\\nThere is one of the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wayfarers,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAy, ay, just so!\u00e2\u0080\u009d quoth Silas Foster. \u00e2\u0080\u009cOur hre-\\naght will draw stragglers, just as a candle draws dor-\\nbugs, on a summer night.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhether to enjoy a dramatic suspense, or that we\\nwere selfishly contrasting our own comfort with the\\nchill and dreary situation of the unknown person at the\\nthreshold, or that some of us city-folk felt a little\\nstartled at the knock which came so unseasonably,\\nthrough night and storm, to the door of the lonely farm-\\nhouse, so it happened, that nobody, for an instant or\\ntwo, arose to answer the summons. Pretty soon, there\\ncame another knock. The first had been moderately\\nmud; the second was smitten so forcibly that the\\nknuckles of the applicant must have left their mark in\\nthe door-panel.\\nHe knocks as if he had a right to come in,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said\\nZenobia, laughing. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd what are we thinking of? It\\nmust be Mr. Hollingsworth\\nHereupon, I went to the door, unbolted, and flung it\\nwide open. There, sure enough, stood Hollingsworth,\\nhis shaggy great-coat all covered with snow, so that he\\nlooked quite as much like a polar bear as a modern\\nphilanthropist.\\nSluggish hospitality this said he, in those deep\\ntones of his, which seemed to come out of a chest as\\ncapacious as a barrel. It would have served you\\nright if I had lain down and spent the night m the door*\\n3", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0363.jp2"}, "362": {"fulltext": "THE BlATHEDALE ROMANCE.\\n34\\nstep, just for the sake of putting you to shame. Bui\\nhere is a guest who will need a warmer and softer bed.\\nAnd, stepping back to the wagon in which he had jour*\\nneyed hither, Hollingsworth received into his arms and\\ndeposited on the door-step a figure enveloped in a cloak.\\nIt was evidently a woman; or, rather, judging from\\nthe ease with which he lifted her, and the little space\\nwhich she seemed to fill in his arms, a slim and\\nunsubstantial girl. As she showed some hesitation\\nabout entering the door, Hollingsworth, with his usual\\ndirectness and lack of ceremony, urged her forward, not\\nmerely within the entry, but into the warm and stronglv\\nlighted kitchen.\\nWho is this whispered I, remaining behind *vith\\nhim while he was taking off his great-coat.\\nWho Really, I don\u00e2\u0080\u0099t know,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hollings-\\nworth, looking at me with some surprise. It is a young\\nperson who belongs here, however and, no doubt, she\\nhas been expected. Zenobia, or some of the women-\\nfolks, can tell you all about it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI think not,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, glancing towards the new comer\\nand the other occupants of the kitchen. Nobody\\nseems to welcome her. I should hardly judge that she\\nwas an expected guest.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, well,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth, quietly. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWe\u00e2\u0080\u0099ll\\nmake it right.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe stranger, or whatever she were, remained stand-\\ning precisely on that spot of the kitchen floor to which\\nHollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s kindly hand had impelled her. The\\ncloak falling partly off, she was seen to be a very young\\nwoman, dressed in a poor but decent gown, made high\\nin the nsck, and without any regard to fashion or smart*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0364.jp2"}, "363": {"fulltext": "THE SUPPER-TABLE.\\n35\\nness. Her krown hair fell down from benea th a hood,\\nnot in curls, but with only a slight wave her face was\\nof a wan, almost sicldy hue, betokening habitual seclu-\\nsion from the sun and free atmosphere, like a flower-\\nshrub that had done its best to blossom in too scanty\\nlight. To complete the pitiableness of her aspect, she\\nshivered, either with cold, or fear, or nervous excitement,\\nso that you might have beheld her shadow vibrating on\\nthe fire-lighted wall. In short, there has seldom been\\nseen so depressed and sad a figure as this young girl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nand it was hardly possible to help being angry with her,\\nfrom mere despair of doing anything for her comfort.\\nThe fantasy occurred to me that she was some desolate\\nkind of a creature, doomed to wander about in snow-\\nstorms and that, though the ruddiness of our window-\\npanes had tempted her into a human dwelling, she\\nwould not remain long enough to melt the icicles out of\\nner hair.\\nAnother conjecture likewise came into my mind.\\nRecollecting Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sphere of philanthropic\\naction, I deemed it possible that he might have brought\\none of his guilty patients, to be wrought upon, and\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2.restored to spiritual health, by the pure influences which\\nour mode of life would create.\\nAi yet, the girl had not stirred. She stood near the\\ndoor, fixing a pair of large, brown, melancholy eyes upon\\nZenobia, only upon Zenobia! she evidently saw\\nnothing else in the room, save that bright, fair, rosy,\\nbeautiful woman. It was the strangest look I ever wit-\\nnessed long a mystery to me, and forever a memory.\\nOnce she seemed about to move forward and greet her,\\n1 know not with what warmth, or with what words 4", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0365.jp2"}, "364": {"fulltext": "36\\nTHE BLITHEPALE EOMAHCK\\nbat, .anally, instead of doing so, she drooped. down\\nupon her knees, clasped her hands, and gazed piteously\\ninto Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face. Meeting no kindly reception, her\\nhead fell on her bosom.\\nI never thoroughly forgave Zenobia for her conduct\\non this occasion. But women are always more cautious\\nin their casual hospitalities than men.\\nWhat does the girl mean cried she, in rather a\\nsharp tone. Is she crazy Has she no tongue\\nAnd here Hollingsworth stepped forward.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNo wonder if the poor child\u00e2\u0080\u0099s tongue is frozen in her\\nmouth,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, and I think he positively frowned at\\nZenobia. The very heart will be frozen in her bosom,\\nunless you women can warm it, among you, with the\\nwarmth that ought to be in your own\\nHollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s appearance was very striking at this\\nmoment. He was then about thirty years old, but looked\\nseveral years older, with his great shaggy head, his\\nheavy brow, his dark complexion, his abundant beard,\\nand the rude strength with which his features seemed to\\nhave been hammered out of iron, rather than chiselled\\nor moulded from any finer or softer material. His\\nfigure was not tall, but massive and brawny, and well\\noefitting his original occupation, which as the reader\\nprobably knows was that of a blacksmith. As for\\nexternal polish, or mere courtesy of manner, he never\\npossessed more than a tolerably educated bear although,\\nin his gentler moods, there was a tenderness in his voice,\\neyes, mouth, in his gesture, and in every indescribable\\nmanifestation, which few men could resist, and no\\nwoman. But he now looked stern and reproachfid and\\nit was with that inauspicious meaning in h glance", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0366.jp2"}, "365": {"fulltext": "THE SUPFEE -TABLE.\\nzr\\nrfiM Hollingsworth first met Zenobia \u00e2\u0080\u0099s eyes and began\\nhis influence upon her life.\\nTo my surprise, Zenobia of whose haughty spirit 1\\nhad been told so many examples absolutely changed\\ncolor, and seemed mortified and confused.\\nYou do not quite do me justice, Mr. Hollingsworth,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nsaid she, almost humbly. I am willing to be kind to\\nthe poor girl. Is she a protegee of yours What can 1\\ndo for her\\nHave you anything to ask of this lady said Hol-\\nlingsworth, kindly, to the girl. I remember you\\nmentioned her name before we left town.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nOnly that she will shelter me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied the girl,\\ntremulously. Only that she will let me be always\\nnear he\\nWed, indeed,\u00e2\u0080\u009d exclaimed Zenobia, recovering her-\\nself, and laughing, this is an adventure, and well\\nworthy to be the first incident in our life of love and\\nfree-heartedness But I accept it, for the present, with-\\nout further question, only,\u00e2\u0080\u009d added she, it would be a\\nconvenience if we knew your name.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPriscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the girl and it appeared to me that\\nshe hesitated whether to add anything more, and decided\\nin the negative. Pray do not ask me my other name,\\nat least, not yet, if you will be so kind to a forlorn\\ncreature.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPriscilla Priscilla I repeated the name to myself,\\nthree or four times and, in that little space, this quaint\\nand prim cognomen had so amalgamated itself with my\\nidea of the girl, that it seemed as if no other name could\\nhave adhered to her for a moment. Heretofore, the poor\\nthing had not shed any tears; but now that she %ind", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0367.jp2"}, "366": {"fulltext": "THE BLITHE DA LE ROMANCE.\\nherself received, and at least temporarily established, the\\nbig drops began to ooze out from beneath her eyelids, as\\nif she were full of them. Perhaps it showed the iron\\nsubstance of my heart, that I could not help smiling as\\nthis odd scene of unknown and unaccountable calamity\\ninto which our cheerful party had been entrapped, wit*\\nout the liberty of choosing whether to sympathize or no\\nHollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s behavior was certainly a great dea.\\nmore creditable than mine.\\nLet us not pry further into her secrets,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he said t(\\nZenobia and the rest of us, apart, and his dark, shaggy\\nface looked really beautiful with its expression of\\nthoughtful benevolence. Let us conclude that Provi-\\ndence has sent her to us, as the first fruits of the world,\\nwhich we have undertaken to make happier than we find\\nit. Let us warm her poor, shivering body with this\\ngood fire, and her poor, shivering heart with our best\\nkindness. Let us feed her, and make her one of us.\\nAs we do by this friendless girl, so shall we prosper.\\nAnd, in good time, whatever is desirable for us to know\\nwill be melted out of her, as inevitably as those tears\\nwhich we see now.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAt least,\u00e2\u0080\u009d remarked I, you may tell us how and\\nwhere you met with her.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAn old man brought her to my lodgings,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered\\nHollingsworth, and begged me to convey her to Blithe-\\ndale, where so I understood him she had friends\\nand this is positively a* I know about the matter.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nGrim Silas Foster, all this while, had been busy at the\\nsupper-table, pouring out his own tea, and gulping it\\ndown with no more sense of its exquisiteness than if it\\nwere a decoction of catnip helping himself to pieces oJ", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0368.jp2"}, "367": {"fulltext": "THE SUrPER-TABLE.\\n39\\ndipt toast on iVe flaJ of his knife-blade, and dropping\\nhalf of it on the mble-cloth using the same serviceable\\nimplement to cut slice after slice of ham; perpetrating\\nterrible enormities with the butter plate and, in all\\nither respects, behaving less like a civilized Christian\\nthan the worst kind of an ogre. Being by this time\\nfully gorged, he crowned his amiable exploits with a\\ndraught from the water pitcher, and then favored us\\nwith his opinion about the business in hand. And, cer-\\ntainly, though they proceeded out of an unwiped mouth,\\nhis expressions did him honor.\\nGive the girl a hot cup of tea, and a thick slice of\\nthis first-rate bacon,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Silas, like a sensible man as\\nlie was. That \u00e2\u0080\u0099s what she wants. Let her stay with\\nus as long as she likes, and help in the kitchen, and\\ntake the cow-breath at milking-time and, in a week oi\\ntwo, she \u00e2\u0080\u0099ll begin to look like a creature of this world.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nSo we sat down again to supper, and Priscilla along\\nwith us", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0369.jp2"}, "368": {"fulltext": "V.\\nUNTIL BED-TIME.\\nSilas Foster, by the time we concluded our meal\\nhad stript off his coat, and planted himself on a low chaii\\noy the kitchen fire, with a lapstone, a hammer, a piece\\nof sole-leather, and some waxed ends, in order to cobble\\nan old pair of cow-hide boots he being, in his own\\nphrase, something of a dab (whatever degree of skill\\nthat may imply) at the shoemaking business. We\\nheard the tap of his hammer, at intervals, for the rest\\nof the evening. The remainder of the party adjourned\\nto the sitting-room. Good Mrs. Foster took her knit-\\nting-work, and soon fell fast asleep, still keeping her\\nneedles in brisk movement, and, to the best of my ob-\\nservation, absolutely footing a stocking out of the texture\\nof a dream. And a very substantial stocking it seemed\\nto be. One of the two handmaidens hemmed a towel,\\nand the other appeared to be making a ruffle, for her\\nSunday\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wear, out of a little bit of embroidered mus-\\nlin, which Zenobia had probably given her.\\nIt was curious to observe how trustingly, and yet how\\ntimidly, our poor Priscilla betook herself into the shadow\\nof Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s protection. She sat beside her on a stool\\nlooking up, every now and then, with an expression of\\nhumble delight, at her new friend\u00e2\u0080\u0099? beauty. A brillian\\nwoman is often an object of the devoted admiration\\nit might almost be termed worship, or idolatry of some", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0370.jp2"}, "369": {"fulltext": "UNTIL BED- TIME.\\n41\\nvoung girl, who perhaps beholds the cynosure only at an\\nawful distance, and has as little hope of personal inter-\\ncourse as of climbing among the stars of heaven. Wc\\nmen are too gross to comprehend it. Even a woman,\\nof mature age, despises or laughs at such a passion.\\nThere occurred to me r.o mode of accounting for Pris-\\ncilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s behavior, except by supposing that she had read\\nsome of Zencbia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s stories (as such literature goes every-\\nwhere), or her tracts in defence of the sex, and had come\\nhither with the one purpose of being her slave. There\\nis nothing parallel to this, I believe, nothing so fool-\\nishly disinterested, and hardly anything so beautiful,\\nin the masculine nature, at whatever epoch of life or,\\nif there be, a fine and rare development of character\\nmight reasonably be looked for from the youth who\\nshould prove himself capable of such self-forgetful affec-\\ntion.\\nZenobia happening to change her seat, I took the\\nopportunity, in an under tone, to suggest some such\\nnotion as the above.\\nSince you see the young woman in so poetical a\\nlight,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied she, in the same tone, you had better\\nturn the affair into a ballad. It is a grand subject, and\\nworthy of supernatural machinery. The storm, the\\nstartling knock at the door, the entrance of the sable\\nknight Hollingsworth and this shadowy snow-maiden,\\nwho, precisely at the stroke of midnight, shall melt away\\nat my feet in a pool of ice-cold water and give me my\\ndeath with a pair of wet slippers And when the erses\\nare written, and polished quite to your mind, I will favor\\nyou with my idea as to what the girl really is.\u00e2\u0080\u009d", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0371.jp2"}, "370": {"fulltext": "42\\nTHE BiiITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nPray let me have it now,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I \u00e2\u0080\u009cit shall oe woven\\ninto the ballad.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nShe is neither more nor less,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Zenobia,\\nthan a seamstress from the city and she has probably\\nno more transcendental purpose than to do my miscella-\\nneous sewing, for I suppose she will hardly expect to\\nmake my dresses.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHow can you decide upon her so easily I in-\\nquired.\\nO, we women judge one another by tokens that\\nescape the obtuseness of masculine perceptions,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said\\nZenobia. There is no proof which you would be\\nlikely to appreciate, except the needle-marks on the tip\\nof her fore-finger. Then, my supposition perfectly\\naccounts for her paleness, her nervousness, and her\\nwretched fragility. Poor thing She has been stifled\\nwith the heat of a salamander-stove, in a small, close\\nroom, and has drunk coffee, and fed upon dough-nuts,\\nraisins, candy, and all such trash, till she is scarcely half\\nalive and so, as she has hardly any physique, a poet,\\nlike Mr. Miles Coverdale, may be allowed to think her\\nspiritual.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nLook at her now whispered I.\\nPriscilla was gazing towards us, with an inexpressible\\nsorrow in her wan face, and great tears running down\\nher cheeks. It was difficult to resist the impression that\\ncautiously as we had lowered our voices, she must have\\noverheard and been wounded by Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s scornful\\nestimate of her character and purposes.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhat ears the girl must have! whispered Zenobia,\\nwith a look of vexation, partly comic, and partly real.\\nI will confess to you that I cannot quite make her out.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0372.jp2"}, "371": {"fulltext": "UNTIL BED-TIME.\\n*3\\nHowever, 5 am positively not an ih-natuied person, un-\\nless when very grievously provoked and as you, and\\nespecially Mr. Hollingsworth, take so much interest in\\nthis odd creature, and as she knocks, with a very-\\nslight tap, against my own heart, likewise, why, 1\\nmean to let her in. From this moment, I will be rea-\\nsonably kind to her. There is no pleasure in torment-\\ning a person of one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own sex, even if she do favor one\\nwith a little more love than one can conveniently dis-\\npose of and that, let me say, Mr. Coverdale, is the\\nmost troublesome offence you can offer to a woman.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThank you,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, smiling 1 don\u00e2\u0080\u0099t mean to be\\nguilty of it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nShe went towards Priscilla, took her hand, and passed\\nher own rosy finger-tips, with a pretty, caressing move-\\nment, over the girl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hair. The touch had a magical\\neffect. So vivid a look of joy flushed up beneath those\\nfingers, that it seemed as if the sad and wan Priscilla\\nhad been snatched away, and another kind of creature\\nsubstituted in her place. This one caress, bestowed vol-\\nuntarily by Zenobia, was evidently received as a pledge\\nof all that the stranger sought from her, whatever the\\nunuttered boon might be. From that instant, too, she\\nmelted in quietly amongst us, and was no longer a for-\\neign element. Though always an object of peculiai\\ninterest, a riddle, and a theme of frequent discussion,\\nher tenure at Blithedale was thenceforth fixed. We no\\nmore thought of questioning it, than if Priscilla had been\\nrecognized as a domestic sprite, who had haunted the\\nrustic fireside, of old, before we had ever been warmed\\nby its blaze.\\nShe now produced, out of i work-bag that she had", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0373.jp2"}, "372": {"fulltext": "44\\nTHE BLITHEDALE I.OMANCE.\\nwith her, some little wooden instrurr.mts (what they are\\ncalled, 1 never knew), and proceeded to knit, or net, an\\narticle which ultimately took the shape of a siik purse.\\nAs the work went m, I remembered to have seen just\\nsuch purses before indeed, I was the possessor of one.\\nTheir peculiar excellence, besides the great delicacy and\\noeauty of the manufacture, lay in the almost impossibil-\\nity that any uninitiated person should discover the aper-\\nture although, to a practised touch, they would open as\\nwide as charity or prodigality might wish. I wondered\\nif it were not a symbol of Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own mystery.\\nNotwithstanding the new confidence with which Zeno-\\nbia had inspired her, our guest showed herself disqui-\\neted by the storm. When the strong puffs of wind spat-\\ntered the snow against the windows, and made the oaken\\nframe of the farm-house creak, she looked at us appre-\\nhensively, as if to inquire whether these tempestuous\\noutbreaks did not betoken some unusual mischief in the\\nshrieking blast. She had been bred up, no doubt, in\\nsome close nook, some inauspiciously sheltered court of\\nthe city, where the uttermost rage of a tempest, though\\nit might scatter down the slates of the roof into the\\nDricked area, could not shake the casement of her little\\nroom. The sense of vast, undefined space, pressing\\nfrom the outside against the black panes of our uncur-\\ntained windows, was fearful to the poor girl, heretofore\\naccustomed to the narrowness of human limits, with the\\nlamps of neighboring tenements glimmering across the\\nstreet. The house probably seemed to her adrift on the\\ngreat ocean of the night. A little parallelogram of sky\\nwas all that she had hitherto known of nature, so that\\nshe felt the awfulness that really exists in its limitless", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0374.jp2"}, "373": {"fulltext": "UNTIL BED-TIME.\\n45\\nextent. Once, while the blast was bellowing, she caught\\nhold of Zenooia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s robe, with precisely the air of one who\\nhears her own name spoken at a distance, but is unut-\\nteiably reluctant to obey the call.\\nWe spent rather an incommunicative evening. Hol-\\nlingsworth hardly said a word, unless when repeatedly\\nand pertinaciously addressed. Then, indeed, he would\\nglare upon us from the thick shrubbery of his medita-\\ntions like a tiger out of a jungle, make the briefest reply\\npossible, and betake himself back into the solitude of his\\nheart and mind. The poor fellow had contracted this\\nungracic us habit from the intensity with which he con-\\ntemplated his own ideas, and the infrequent sympathy\\nwhich they met with from his auditors, a circumstance\\nthat seemed only to strengthen the implicit confidence\\nthat he awarded to them. His heart, I imagine, was\\nnever really interested in our socialist scheme, but was\\nforever busy with his strange, and, as most people thought\\nit, impracticable plan, for the reformation of criminals\\nthrough an appeal to their higher instincts. Much as 1\\nliked Hollingsworth, it cost me many a groan to tolerate\\nhim on this point. He ought to have commenced his\\ninvestigation of the subject by perpetrating some huge\\nsin in his proper person, and examining the condition of\\nhis higher instincts afterwards.\\nThe rest of us formed ourselves into a committee foi\\nproviding our infant community with an appropriate\\nname, a matter of greatly more difficulty than the\\nuninitiated reader would suppose. Blithedale was nei\\nther good nor bad. We should have resumed the old\\nIndian name of the premises, had it possessed theoihand-\\nhoney flow which the aborigines were so often happy ii4", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0375.jp2"}, "374": {"fulltext": "46\\nTHE BLITHELALE ROMANOS.\\ncommunicating to their local appellations but it chanceu\\nto lea harsh, ill-connected, and interminable word, which\\nseemed to fill the mouth with a mixture 01 very stiff clay\\nand very crumbly pebbles. Zenobia suggested Sunny\\nGlimpse,\u00e2\u0080\u009d as expressive of a vista into a better system of\\nsociety. This we turned over and over, for a while\\nacknowledging its pretti ness, but concluded it to be rather\\ntoo fine and sentimental a name (a fault inevitable by\\nliterary T adies, in such attempts) for sun-burnt men to\\nwork under. I ventured to whisper Utopia,\u00e2\u0080\u009d which,\\nhow r ever, was unanimously scouted down, and the pro-\\nposer very harshly maltreated, as if he had intended a\\nlatent satire. Some were for calling our institution\\nThe Oasis,\u00e2\u0080\u009d in view of its being the one green spot in\\nthe moral sand-waste of the world but others insisted\\non a proviso for reconsidering the matter at a twelve-\\nmonth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s end, when a final decision might be had,\\nwhether to name it \u00e2\u0080\u009cThe Oasis,\u00e2\u0080\u009d or Sahara. So, at\\nlast, finding it impracticable to hammer out anything\\nbetter, we resolved that the spot should still be Blithe-\\ndale, as being of good augury enough.\\nThe evening wore on, and the outer solitude looked\\nin upon us through the windows, gloomy, wild and\\nvague, like another state of existence, close beside the\\nlittle sphere of warmth and light in which we were the\\nprattlers and bustlers of a moment. By and by, the\\ndoor was opened by Silas Foster, with a cotton handker-\\nchief about his head, and a tallow candle in his hand.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cTake my advice, brother farmers,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, with a\\ngrc\\\\t, broad, bottomless yawn, and get to bed as soon\\np? you can. I shall sound the horn at daybreak; and", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0376.jp2"}, "375": {"fulltext": "UNTIL BED-TIME.\\nn\\nwe \u00e2\u0080\u0099ve got the cattle to fodder, and nine cow? to milk\\nand a dozen other things to do, before breakfast.\\nThus ended the first evening at Blithedale. I went\\nshivering to my fireless chamber, with the miserable con-\\nsciousness (which had been jawing upon me for several\\nhours past) that I had caught a tremendous cold, and\\nshould probably awaken, at the blast of the horn, a fit\\nsubject for a hospital. The night proved a feverish one.\\nDuring the greater part of it, I was in that vilest of\\nstates when a fixed idea remains in the mind, like the\\nnail in Sisera\u00e2\u0080\u0099s brain, while innumerable other ideas go\\nand come, and flutter to and fro, combining constant\\ntransition with intolerable sameness. Had I made a\\nrecord of that night\u00e2\u0080\u0099s half- waking dreams, it is my belief\\nthat it would have anticipated several of the chief inci-\\ndents of this narrative, including a dim shadow of its\\ncatastrophe. Starting up in bed, at length, I saw that\\nthe storm was past, and the moon was shining on the\\nsnowy landscape, which looked like a lifeless copy of the\\nworld in marble.\\nFrom the bank of the distant river, which was shim-\\nmering in the moonlight, came the black shadow of the\\nonly cloud in heaven, driven swiftly by the wind, and\\npassing over meadow and hillock, vanishing amid tufts\\nof leafless trees, but reappearing on the hither side, until\\nit swept across our door-step.\\nHow cold an Arcadia was this", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0377.jp2"}, "376": {"fulltext": "VI.\\nCOVERDALE\u00e2\u0080\u0099S SICK-CHAMBER.\\nIiie horn sounded at daybreak, as Silas Foster had\\nforewarned us, harsh, uproarious, inexorably drawn out\\nand as sleep-dispelling as if this hard-hearted old. yeo-\\nman had got hold of the trump of doom.\\nOn all sides I could hear the creaking of the bed-\\nsteads, as the brethren of Blithedale started from slum-\\nber, and thrust themselves into their habiliments, all\\nawry, no doubt, in their haste to begin the reformation\\nof the world. Zenobia put her head into the entry, and\\nbesought Silas Foster to cease his clamor, and to be kind\\nenough to leave an armful of firewood and a pail of water\\nat her chamber-door. Of the whole household, un-\\nless, indeed, it were Priscilla, for whose habits, in this\\nparticular, I cannot vouch, of all our apostolic society,\\nwhose mission was to bless mankind, Hollingsworth, I\\napprehend, was the only one who began the enterprise\\nwith prayer. My sleeping-room being but thinly par-\\ntitioned from his, the solemn murmur of his voice made\\nits way to my ears, compelling me to be an auditor of his\\nawful privacy with the Creator. It affected me with a\\ndeep reverence for Hollingsworth, which no familiarity\\nthen existing, or that afterwards grew more intimate\\nbetween us, no, nor my subsequent perception of his\\nown great errors, ever quite effaced. It is so rare, in\\nthese times, to meet with a man of ptaysrful habits", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0378.jp2"}, "377": {"fulltext": "coverdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sick-chamber\\n49\\n(except, of course, in the pulpit), that such an one is\\nilecidedly marked out by a light of transfiguration, shed\\nrpon him in the divine interview from which he passes\\ninto his daily life.\\nAs foi me, I lay abed and if I said my prayers, it\\nwas backward, cursing my day as bitterly as patient Job\\nhimself. The truth was, the hot-house warmth of a\\ntown-residence, and the luxurious life in which I in-\\ndulged myself, had taken much of the pith out of my\\nphysical system and the wintry blast of the preceding\\nday, together with the general chill of our airy old farm-\\nhouse, had got fairly into my heart and the marrow of\\nmy bones. In this predicament, I seriously wished\\nselfish as it may appear that the reformation of\\nsociety had been postponed about half a centuiy, or, at\\nall events, to such a date as should have put my inter-\\nmeddling with it entirely out of the question.\\nWhat, in the name of common sense, had I to do\\nwith any better society than I had always lived in It\\nhad satisfied me well enough. My pleasant bachelor-\\nparlor, sunny and shadowy, curtained and carpeted, with\\nthe bed-chamber adjoining my centre-table, strewn with\\nbooks and periodicals my writing-desk, with a half-\\nfinished poem, in a stanza of my own contrivance my\\nmorning lounge at the reading-room or picture-gallery\\nmy noontide walk along the cheery pavement, with the\\nsuggestive succession of human faces, and the brisk\\nthrob of human life, in which I shared my dinner at\\nthe Albion, -where I had a hundred dishes at command,\\nand could banquet as delicately as the wizard Michael\\nScott when the devil fed him from the King of France\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nkitchen my evening at the billiard-club, the concert, (he\\n4", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0379.jp2"}, "378": {"fulltext": "50\\nTHE BLITHE DALE 20MANCB\\ntheatre, or at somebody\u00e2\u0080\u0099s party, if I pleased what\\ncould be better than all this Was it better to bee, to\\nmow, to toil and moil amidst the accumulations of a\\noam-yard to be the chamber-maid of two yoke of oxen\\nand a dozen cgws to eat salt beef, and earn it with the\\nsweat of my brow, and thereby take the tough morsel\\nout of some wretch\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mouth, into whose vocation I had\\nthrust myself? Above all, was it better to have a fever\\nand die blaspheming, as I was like to do\\nIn this wretched plight, with a furnace in my heart,\\nand another in my head, by the heat of which I was\\nkept constantly at the boiling point, yet shivering at the\\nbare idea of extruding so much as a finger into the icy\\natmosphere of the room, I kept my bed until breakfast-\\ntime, when Hollingsworth knocked at the door, and\\nentered.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, Coverdale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried he, \u00e2\u0080\u009cyou bid fair to make\\nan admirable farmer Don\u00e2\u0080\u0099t you mean to get up to-\\nday\\nNeither to-day nor to-morrow,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, hopelessly.\\nI doubt if I ever rise again\\nWhat is the matter, now he asked.\\nI told him my piteous case, and besought him to send\\nme back to town in a close carriage.\\nNo, no said Hollingsworth, with kindly serious*\\nness. If you are really sick, we must take care of\\nyou.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAccordingly, he built a fire in my chamber, and, hav-\\ning .ittle else to do while the snow lay on the ground\\nestablished himself as my nurse. A doctor was sent\\nfor, wno, being homoeopathic, gave me as much medicine,\\nin the course of a fortnight\u00e2\u0080\u0099s attendance, as would have", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0380.jp2"}, "379": {"fulltext": "coverdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sick-chamber.\\n61\\nmm on the point if a needle. They fed me on water-\\ngruel, and I speedily became a skeleton above ground.\\nBut, after all, I have many precious recollections con-\\nnected with that fit of sickness.\\nHollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s more than brotherly attendance gave\\nme inexpressible comfort. Most men and certainly 1\\ncould not always claim to be one of the exceptions\\nHave u natural indifference, if not an absolutely hostile\\nfeeling, towards those whom disease, or weakness, or\\ncalamity of any kind, causes to falter and faint amid\\nthe rude jostle of our selfish existence. The education\\nof Christianity, it is true, the sympathy of a like experi-\\nence and the example of women, may soften, and, pos-\\nsibly, subvert, this ugly characteristic of our sex; but it\\nis originally there, and has likewise its analogy in the\\npractice of our brute brethren, who hunt the sick or dis-\\nabled member of the herd from among them, as an\\nenemy. It is for this reason that the stricken deer goes\\napart, and the sick lion grimly withdraws himself into\\nhis don. Except in love, or the attachments of kindred,\\nor other very long and habitual affection, we really have\\nno tenderness. But there was something of the woman\\nmoulded into the great, stalwart frame of Hollingsworth\\nnor was he ashamed of it, as men often are of what is\\nbest in them, nor seemed ever to know that there was\\nsuch a soft place in his heart. I knew it well, however,\\nat that tune, although afterwards it came nigh to be\\nforgotten. Methought there could not be two such men\\nalive as Hollingsworth. There never was any blaze of\\na fireside that warmed and cheered me, in the down-\\nsinkings and shiveringr of rv spirit, sr effectually a", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0381.jp2"}, "380": {"fulltext": "52\\nTHE BL1TIIEDALE ROMANCE.\\ndid the light out of those eyes, which laf so deep and\\ndark under his shaggy brows.\\nHappy the man that has such a friend beside him\\nwhen he comes to die and unless a friend like Hollings-\\nworth be at hand, as most probably there will not, he\\nhad better make up his mind to die alone. How many\\nmen, I wonder, does one meet with, in a lifetime, whom\\nlie would choose for his death-bed companions At the\\nci isis of my fever, I besought Hollingsworth to let nobody\\nelse enter the room, but continually to make me sensible\\nof his own presence, by a grasp of the hand, a word, a\\nprayer, if he thought good to utter it and that then he\\nshould be the witness how courageously I would en-\\ncounter the worst. It still impresses me as almost a\\nmatter of regret, that I did not die then, when I had\\ntolerably made up my mind to it; for Hollingsworth\\nwould have gone with me to the hither verge of life,\\nand have sent his friendly and hopeful accents far over\\non the other side, while I should be treading the un-\\nknown path. Now, were I to send for him, he would\\nhardly come to my bed-side, nor should I depart the\\neasier for his presence.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYou are not going to die, this time,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he,\\ngravely smiling. \u00e2\u0080\u009cYou know nothing about sickness,\\nand think your case a great deal more desperate than it\\nis.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nDeath should take me while I am in the mood,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nreplied I, with a little of my customary levity.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHave you nothing to do in life,\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked Hollings-\\nworth, that you fancy yourse.f so ready to leave it\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNothing,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered I; \u00e2\u0080\u009cnothing, that I know of,\\nunless to make p*etty verses, and play a part, with", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0382.jp2"}, "381": {"fulltext": "COVERDALE\u00e2\u0080\u0099S SICK-CHAMEER.\\n63\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0098feaobia and the rest of the amateurs, in our pastoral\\nIt seems but an unsubstantial sort of business, as viewed\\nriirough a mist of fever. But, dear Hollingsworth, your\\nown vocation is evidently to be a priest, and to fpend\\nyour days and nights in helping your fellow-creatures to\\ndraw peaceful dying breaths.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd by which of my qualities,\u00e2\u0080\u009d inquired he, can\\nyou suppose n. e fitted for this awful ministry\\nBy your tenderness,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I said. \u00e2\u0080\u009cIt seems to me the\\nreflection of God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own love.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd you call me tender repeated Hollingsworth,\\nthoughtfully. \u00e2\u0080\u009cI should rather say that the most\\nmarked trait in my character is an inflexible severity of\\npurpose. Mortal man has no right to be so inflexible as\\nit is my nature and necessity to be.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI do not believe it,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I replied.\\nBut, in due time, I remembered what he said.\\nProbably, as Hollingsworth suggested, my disorder\\nwas never so serious as, in my ignorance of such mat-\\nters, I was inclined to consider it. After so much tragi-\\ncal preparation, it was positively rather mortifying to\\nfind myself on the mending hand.\\nAll the other members of the Community showed me\\nkindness according to the full measure of their capacity\\nZenobia brought me my gruel, every day, made by het\\nown hands (not very skilfully, if the truth must be told) s\\nand whenever I seemed inclined to converse, would sis\\nby my bed-side, and talk with so much vivacity as to\\nadd several gratuitous throbs to my pulse. Her poor\\nlittle stories and tracts never half did justice to her intel-\\nlect. It was only the lack of a fitter avenue that drove\\nher to seek development in literature. She was mads", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0383.jp2"}, "382": {"fulltext": "51\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\n(among a thousand other things that she might have\\nbeen) for a stump-oratress. I recognized no severe cul\\nture in Zenobia her mind was full of weeds. It startled\\nme, sometimes, in my state of moral as well as bodily\\nfaint-heartedness, to observe the hardihood of her pniloso\\nphy. She made no scruple of oversetting all human\\ninstitutions, and scattering them as with a breeze from\\nher fan. A female reformer, in her attacks upon society,\\nhas an instinctive sense of where the life lies, and is\\ninclined to aim directly at that spot. Especially the\\nrelation between the sexes is naturally among the\\nearliest to attract her notice.\\nZenobia was truly a magnificent woman. The homely\\nsimplicity of her dress could not conceal, nor scarcely\\ndiminish, the queenliness of her presence. The image\\nof her form and face should have been multiplied all\\nover the earth. It was wronging the rest of mankind\\nto retain her as the spectacle of only a few. The stage\\nwould have been her proper sphere. She should have\\nmade it a point of duty, moreover, to sit endlessly to\\npainters and sculptors, and preferably to the latter\\nbecause the cold decorum of the marble would consist\\nwith the utmost scantiness of drapery, so that the eye\\nmight chastely be gladdened with her material perfec-\\ntion in its entireness. I know not well how to express,\\nthat the native glow of coloring in her cheeks, and even\\nthe flesh- warmth over her round arms, and what was\\nvisible of her full bust, in a word, h.,r womanliness\\nincarnated, compelled me sometimes to close my eyes,\\nas if it were not quite the privilege of modesty to gaze\\nat her. Illness and exhaustion, no doubt, had made mi\\nmorbidly sensitive.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0384.jp2"}, "383": {"fulltext": "COVERDALE\u00e2\u0080\u0099s SICK -CHAMBER.\\n5b\\nI noticed \u00e2\u0080\u0094and wondered how Zenobia contrived n\\nthat she hai always a new flower in her hair. And\\n*tili it was a hot-house flower an outlandish flower,\\na flower of the tropics, such as appeared to have\\nsprung passionately out of a soil the very weeds of which\\nwould be fervid and spicy. Unlike as was the flower\\nof each successive day to the preceding one, it yet so\\nassimilated its richness to the rich beauty of the woman,\\nthat I thought it the only flower fit to be worn so fit,\\nindeed, that Nature had evidently created this floral\\ngem, in a happy exuberance, for the one purpose of\\nworthily adorning Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s head. It might be that my\\nfeverish fantasies clustered themselves about this pecu-\\nliarity, and caused it to look more gorgeous and wonder-\\nful than if beheld with temperate eyes. In the height\\nof my illness, as I well recollect, I went so far as to pro-\\nnounce it preternatural.\\nZenobia is an enchantress whispered I once to\\nHollingsworth. She is a sister of the Veiled Lady.\\nThat flower in her hair is a talisman. If you were to\\nsnatch it away, she would vanish, or be transformed into\\nsomething else.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhat does he say asked Zenobia.\\nNothing that has an atom of sense in it,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered\\nHollingsworth. He is a little beside himself, I believe,\\nand talks about your being a witch, and of some magical\\nproperty in the flower that you wear in your hair.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt is an idea worthy of a feverish poet,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she,\\nlaughing rather compassionately, and taking out the\\nflower. I scorn to owe anything to magic. Here, Mr.\\nHollingsworth, you may keep the spell while it has any\\nvirtue in it; but I cannot promise you nol to appear with", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0385.jp2"}, "384": {"fulltext": "56\\nTHE BLITHErALE ROMANCE.\\na n sw one to-morrow. It is the one relic of my nor*\\nbrilliant, my happier days\\nThe most curious part of the matter was. that long\\nafter my slight delirium had passed away, as long,\\nindeed, as I continued to know this remarkable woman,\\n-her daily flower affected my imagination, though\\nmore slightly, yet in very much the same way. The\\nreason must have been that, whether intentionally on\\nher part or not, this favorite ornament was actually a\\nsubtile expression of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character.\\nOne subject, about which very impertinently, more-\\nover I perplexed myself with a great many conjec-\\ntures, was, whether Zenobia had ever been married.\\nThe idea, it must be understood, was unauthorized by\\nTiny circumstance or suggestion that had made its way\\nto my ears. So young as I beheld her, and the freshest\\nand rosiest woman of a thousand, there was certainly no\\nneed of imputing to her a destiny already accomplished\\nthe probability was far greater that her coming years\\nhad all life\u00e2\u0080\u0099s richest gifts to bring. If the great event\\nof a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s existence had been consummated, the world\\nknew nothing of it, although the world seemed to know\\nZenobia well. It was a ridiculous piece of romance,\\nundoubtedly, to imagine that this beautiful personage,\\nwealthy as she was, and holding a position that might\\nfairly enough be called distinguished, could have given\\nherself aw ay so privately, but that some whisper and\\nsuspicion, and, by degrees, a full understanding of the\\nfact, would eventually be blown abroad. But then, as 1\\nfailed not to consider, her original home was at a dis-\\ntance of many hundred miles. Rumors might All the\\n\u00c2\u00abccia. atmosphere, or mighl once have filled it, there.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0386.jp2"}, "385": {"fulltext": "COVERDALE S SI K- JHAMBER.\\n57\\nwinch would travel but slowly, against the w mu, towards\\nour north-eastern metropolis, and perhaps melt into thin\\nair before reaching it.\\nThere was not and I distinctly repeat it the\\nslightest foundation in my knowledge for any surmise of\\nthe kind. But there is a species of intuition, either a\\nspiritual lie, or the subtle recognition of a fact, which\\ncomes to us in a reduced state of the corporeal system.\\nThe soul gets the better of the body, after wasting ill-\\nness, or when a vegetable diet may have mingled too\\nmuch ether in the blood. Vapors then rise up to the\\nbrain, and take shapes that often image falsehood, but\\nsometimes truth. The spheres of our companions have,\\nat such periods, a vastly greater influence upon our own\\nthan when robust health gives us a repellent and self-\\ndefensive energy. Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sphere, I imagine, impressed\\nitself powerfully on mine, and transformed me, during\\nthis period of my weakness, into something like a mes-\\nmerical clairvoyant.\\nThen, also, as anybody could observe, the freedom of\\nher deportment (though, to some tastes, it might com-\\nmend itself as the utmost perfection of manner in a\\nyouthful widow or a blooming matron) was not exactly\\nmaiden-like. What girl had ever laughed as Zenobia\\ndid What girl had ever spoken in her mellow tones\\nHer unconstrained and inevitable manifestation, I said\\noften to myself, was that of a woman to whom wedlock\\nhad thrown wide the gates of mystery. Yet sometimes\\nI strove to be ashamed of these conjectures. I acknowl-\\nedged it as a masculine grossness, a sin of wicked\\ninterpretation, of which man is often guilty towards the\\nother sev, thus tc mistake the sweet liberal but", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0387.jp2"}, "386": {"fulltext": "58\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROM/NCF\\nwomanly frankness of a noble and generous disposition\\nStili, it was of no avail to reason with myself, nor to up\\ncraid myself. Pertinaciously the thought, Zenobia is a\\nwife, Zenobia has lived and loved There is no folded\\npetal, no latent dew-drop, in this perfectly-developed\\nrose irresistibly that thought drove out all other\\nconclusions, as often as my mind reverted to the subject.\\nZenobia was conscious of my observation, though not,\\nI presume, of the point to which it led me.\\nMr. Coverdale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, one day, as she saw me\\nwatching her, while she arranged my gruel on the table,\\nI have been exposed to a great deal of eye-shot in the\\nfew years of my mixing in the world, but never, I think\\nto precisely such glances as you are in the habit of\\nfavoring me with. I seem to interest you very much\\nand yet or else a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s instinct is for once\\ndeceived I cannot reckon you as an admirer. What\\nare you seeking to discover in me\\nThe mystery of your life,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered I, surprised into\\nthe truth by the unexpectedness of her attack. And\\nyou will never tell me.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nShe bent her head towards me, and let me look into\\nher eyes, as if challenging me to drop a plummet-line\\ndown into the depths of her consciousness.\\nI see nothing now,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, closing my own eyes,\\nunless it be the face of a sprite laughing at me from\\nthe bottom of a deep well.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nA bachelor always feels himself defrauded, when he\\nknows, or suspects, that any woman of his acquaintance\\nHas given herself away. Otherwise, the matter could\\nhave been no concern of mine. It was purely specula-\\nte for I should not, under any circumstances, have", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0388.jp2"}, "387": {"fulltext": "C OVERDALE\u00e2\u0080\u0099S SICK-CHAMBER. 5^\\nfallen in. love with Zenobia. The riddle made me so\\nnervous, however, in my sensitive condition of mind and\\nbody, that I most ungratefully began to wish that she\\nwould let me alone. Then, too, her gruel was very\\nwretched stuff, with almost invariably the smell of pine\\nsmoke upon it, like the evil taste that is said to mix\\nitself up with a witch\u00e2\u0080\u0099s best concocted dainties. Why\\ncould not she have allowed one of the other women to\\ntake the gruel in charge Whatever else might be her\\ngifts, Nature certainly never intended Zenobia for a\\ncook. Or, if so, she should have meddled only with the\\nrichest and spiciest dishes, and such as are to be tasted\\nat banquets, between draughts of intoxicating wine.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0389.jp2"}, "388": {"fulltext": "VII.\\nTHE CONVALESCENT.\\nAs soon as my mcommodities allowed me to think of\\npast occurrences, I failed not to inquire what had become\\nof the odd little guest whom Hollingsworth had been the\\nmedium of introducing among us. It now appeared that\\npoor Priscilla had not so literally fallen out of the clouds\\nas we were at first inclined to suppose. A letter, which\\nshould have introduced her, had since been received\\nfrom one of the city missionaries, containing a certificate\\nof character, and an allusion to circumstances which, in\\nthe writer\u00e2\u0080\u0099s judgment, made it especially desirable that\\nshe should find shelter in our Community. There w T as a\\nhint, not very intelligible, implying either that Priscilla\\nhad recently escaped from some particular peril or irk-\\nsomeness of position, or else that she was still liable to\\nthis danger or difficulty, whatever it might be. We\\nshould ill have deserved the reputation of a benevolent\\nfraternity, had we hesitated entertain a petitioner in\\nsuch need, and so strongly recommended to our kind\\nness not to mention, moreover, that the strange maidei\\nhad set herself diligently to work, and was doing gooa\\nservice with her needle. But a slight mist of uncer\\ntamty still floated about Priscilla, and kept her, as yet\\nfrom talcing a very decided place among creatures oi\\nflesh a nd blood.\\n*i iie mysterious attraction, which, from her fr\u00c2\u00abi", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0390.jp2"}, "389": {"fulltext": "THE CONVALESCENT.\\n6i\\nentrance on our scene, she evinced for Zenobia, had lost\\nnothing of its force. I often heard hei footsteps, soft and\\nlow, accompanying the light but decided tread of the\\nlatter up the staircase, stealing along the p/tssage-way\\nby her new friend\u00e2\u0080\u0099s side, and pausing while Zenobia\\nentered my chamber. Occasionally, Zenobia would b?\\na little annoyed by Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s too close attendance. In\\nan authoritative and not very kindly tone, she would\\nadvise her to breathe the pleasant air in a walk, or to go\\nwith her work into the bam, holding out half a promise\\nt) come and sit on the hay with her, when at leisure.\\nEvidently, Priscilla found but scanty requital for her\\nlove. Hollingsworth was likewise a great favorite with\\nher. For several minutes together, sometimes, while\\nmy auditory nerves retained the susceptibility of delicate\\nhea? h, I used to hear a low, pleasant munnur, ascend-\\ning from the room below and at last ascertained it io be\\nPriscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice, babbling like a little brook to Hollings-\\nworth. She talked more largely and freely with him\\nthan with Zenobia, to .mrds whom, indeed, her feelings\\nseemed not so much to be confidence as involuntary\\naffection. I should have thought all the better of my\\nown qualities, had Priscilla marked me out for the\\nthird place in her regards. But, though she appeared\\nto like me tolerably well, I could never flatter myself\\nwith being distinguished by her as Hollingsworth and\\nZenobia were.\\nOne forenoon, during my convalescence, there came a\\ngentle tap at my chamber-door. I immediately said,\\ntt Come in, Priscilla with an acute sense of the appli-\\ncant\u00e2\u0080\u0099s identity. Nor was I deceived. It was really\\nPriscilla, a pale, large-eyed little woman (for she", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0391.jp2"}, "390": {"fulltext": "62\\nTHL BLITHE DALE ROMANCE-\\nnail gone far enough into hei teens to be, at least, on\\nthe outer limit of girlhood), but much less wan than at\\nmy previous view of her, and far better conditioned both\\nas to health and spirits. As I first saw her, she had\\nreminded me of plants that one sometimes observes\\ndoing their best to vegetate among the bricks of an\\nenclosed court, where there is scanty soil, and never any\\nsunshine. At present, though with no approach to\\nbloom, there were indications that the girl had human\\nblood in her veins.\\nPriscilla came softly to my bed-side, and held out an\\narticle of snow-white linen, very carefully and smoothly\\nironed. She did not seem bashful, nor anywise embar-\\nrassed. My weakly condition, I suppose, supplied a\\nmedium in which she could approach me.\\nDo not you need this asked she. I have made\\nit for you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt was a night-cap\\nMy dear Priscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, smiling, I never had on a\\nnight-cap in my life But perhaps it will be better for\\nme to wear one, now that I am a miserable invalid\\nHow admirably you have done it No, no I never can\\nthink of wearing such an exquisitely wrought night-cap\\nas this, unless it be in the day-time, when I sit up to\\nreceive company.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt is for use, not beauty,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Priscilla. I\\ncould have embroidered it, and made it much prettier, if\\nl pleased.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhile holding up the night-cap, and admiring the fine\\nneedle-work, I perceived that Priscilla had a sealed let-\\nter, which she was waiting for me to take. It had\\narrive d from the village p^t-office that morning. As 1", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0392.jp2"}, "391": {"fulltext": "THE CONVAI ESCENT.\\n63\\nJrJ not immediately offer to receive the letter^ she drew\\nit back, and held it against her bosom, with both hands\\nclasped over it, in a way that had probably grown\\nhabitual to her. Now, on turning my eyes from the\\nnight-cap to Priscilla, it forcibly struck me that her air\\nthough not her figure, and the expression of her face\\nbut not its features, had a resemblance to what I had\\noften seen in a friend of mine, one of the most gifted\\nwomen of the age. I cannot describe it. The points\\neasiest to convey to the reader were, a certain curve of\\nthe shoulders, and a partial closing of the eyes, which\\neemed to look more penetratingly into my own eyes,\\nTough the narrowed apertures, than if they had been\\nop :n at full width. It was a singular anomaly of like-\\nness coexisting with perfect dissimilitude.\\nWill you give me the letter, Priscilla said 1.\\nShe started, put the letter into my hand, and quite\\nlost the look that had drawn my notice.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cPriscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I inquired, \u00e2\u0080\u009cdid you ever see Miss\\nMargaret Fuller\\nNo,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she answered.\\nBecause,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, you reminded me of her, just\\nnow and it happens, strangely enough, that this very\\nletter is from her.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPriscilla, for whatever reason, looked very much dis\\ncomposed.\\nI wish people would not fancy such odd things in\\nme she said, rather petulantly. \u00e2\u0080\u009c-How could I pos-\\nsibly make myself resemble this lady, merely by holding\\nher letter in my hand\\nCertainly, Priscilla, it would puzzle me to explain\\nit, I replied nor do I suppose that the etter had any", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0393.jp2"}, "392": {"fulltext": "61\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nthing to do with it It was just a coincidence, nothing\\nmore/\u00e2\u0080\u0099\\nShe hastened out of the room, and this was the last\\nthat I saw of Priscilla until I ceased to be an invalid.\\nBeing much alone, during my recovery, I read inter-\\nminably in Mr. Emerson\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Essays, the Dial, Carlyle\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nworks, George Sand\u00e2\u0080\u0099s romances (lent me by Zenobia), and\\nother books which one or another of the brethren or\\nsisterhood had brought with them. Agreeing in little\\nelse, raost of these utterances were like the cry of some\\nsolitary sentine*, whose station was on the outposts of\\nthe advance-guard of human progression or, sometimes,\\nthe voice came sadly from among the shattered ruins ol\\nthe past, but yet had a hopeful echo in the future.\\nThey were well adapted (better, at least, than any other\\nintellectual products, the volatile essence of which had\\nheretofore tinctured a printed page) to pilgrims like\\nourselves, whose present bivouac was considerably fur-\\nther into the waste of chaos than any mortal army of\\ncrusaders had ever marched before. Fourier\u00e2\u0080\u0099s works,\\nalso, in a series of horribly tedious volumes, attracted a\\ngood deal of my attention, from the analog} which i\\ncould not but recognize between his system and our\\nown. There was far less resemblance, it is true, than\\nthe world chose to imagine, inasmuch as the two theories\\ndiffered, as widely as the zenith from the nalir, in then\\nmain principles.\\nI talked about Fourier to Hollingsworth, and trans\\nlated, for his benefit, some of the passages; i hat chiefly\\nimpressed me.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhen, as a consequence of human improvement,\u00e2\u0080\u0099\\n\u00c2\u00abo\u00c2\u00bbd I, the globe shall arrive at its final perfection, tbs", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0394.jp2"}, "393": {"fulltext": "THE CONVALESCENT.\\n65\\ngreat ocean is to be converted into a particular kind of\\nlemonade, such as was fashionable at Paris in Fourier\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\ntime. He calls it limonade a cedre. It is positively a\\nfact Just imagine the city-docks filled, every day, with\\na flood-tide of this delectable beverage\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhy did not the Frenchman make punch of it, at\\nonce asked Hollingsworth. The jack-tars would be\\ndelighted to go down in ships and do business in such\\nan element.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI further proceeded to explain, as well as I modestly\\ncould, several points of Fourier\u00e2\u0080\u0099s system, illustrating\\nthem with here and there a page or two, and asking\\nHollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s opinion as to the expediency of intro-\\nducing these beautiful peculiarities into our own prac-\\ntice.\\nLet me hear no more of it cried he, in utter dis-\\ngust. I never will forgive this fellow He has com-\\nmitted the unpardonable sin for what more monstrous\\niniquity could the devil himself contrive than to choose\\nthe selfish principle, the principle of all human wrong,\\nthe very blackness of man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart, the portion of our-\\nselves which we shudder at, and which it is the whole\\naim of spiritual discipline to eradicate, to choose it as\\nthe master-workman of his system To seize upon and\\nfoster whatever vile, petty, sordid, filthy, bestial and\\nabominable corruptions have cankered intt our nature,\\nto be the efficient instruments of his inferr.al regenera\\nlion And his consummated Paradise, as he pictures\\nit, would be worthy of the agency which he counts upon\\nfor establishing it. The nauseous villain\\nNevertheless,\u00e2\u0080\u009d remarked I, in consideration of thfc\\npremised delights of his system, so very proper, as\\n5", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0395.jp2"}, "394": {"fulltext": "6tf THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nthey certainly are, to be appreciated by Fourier\u00e2\u0080\u0099s coun-\\ntr} r men. I cannot but wonder that universal F ranee\\ndid not adopt his theory, at a moment\u00e2\u0080\u0099s warning. But\\nis there not something very characteristic of his nation\\nin Fourier\u00e2\u0080\u0099s manner of putting forth his views He\\nmakes no claim to inspiration. He has not persuaded\\nhimself as Swedenborg did, and as any other than a\\nFrenchman would, with a mission of like importance to\\ncommunicate that he speaks with authority from\\nabove. He promulgates his system, so far as I can per-\\nceive, entirely on his own responsibility. He has\\nsearched out and discovered the whole counsel of the\\nAlmighty, in respect to mankind, past, present, and fo.\\nexactly seventy thousand years to come, by the mere\\nforce and cunning of his individual intellect\\nTake the book out of my sight,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth,\\nwith great virulence of expression, or, I tell you fairly,\\nI shall fling it in the fire And as for F ourier, let him\\nmake a Paradise, if he can, of Gehenna, where, as I\\nconscientiously believe, he is floundering at this mo-\\nment\\nAnd bellowing, I suppose,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, not that I felt\\nany ill-will towards Fourier, but merely wanted to give\\nthe finishing touch to Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s image, bellow-\\ning for the least drop of his beloved limonade a cedre\\nThere is but little profit to be expected in attempting\\nto argue with a man who allows himself to declaim m\\nthis manner so I dropt the subject, and never took it\\nup again.\\nBut had the system at which he was so enraged corn-\\noined almost any amount of human wisdom, spiritual\\ninsight, and imaginative beauty, I question whethe", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0396.jp2"}, "395": {"fulltext": "THE CONVALESCENT.\\n67\\nHollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mind was in a fit condition to receive it.\\nI began to discern that he had come among us actuated\\nby no real sympathy with our feelings and our hopes,\\nbut chiefly because we were estranging ourselves from\\nthe world, with which his lonely and exclusive object in\\nafe had already put him at odds. Hollingsworth must\\nhave been originally endowed with a great spirit of\\nbenevolence, deep enough and warm enough to be the\\nsource of as much disinterested good as Providence often\\nallows a human being the privilege of conferring upon\\nhis fellows. This native instinct yet lived within him.\\nI myself had profited by it, in my necessity. It was\\nseen, too, in his treatment of Priscilla. Such casual cir-\\ncumstances as were here involved would quicken his\\ndivine power of sympathy, and make him seem, while\\ntheir influence lasted, the tenderest man and the truest\\nfriend on earth. But, by and by, you missed the tender-\\nness of yesterday, and grew drearily conscious* that Hol-\\nlingsworth had a closer friend than ever you could be\\nand this friend was the cold, spectral monster which he\\nhad himself conjured up, and on which he was wasting\\nall the warmth of his heart, and of which, at last, as\\nthese men of a mighty purpose so invariably do, he\\nhad grown to be the bond-slave. It was his philan-\\nthropic theory.\\nThis was a result exceedingly sad to contemplate,\\nconsidering that it had been mainly brought about by\\nthe very ardor and exuberance of his philanthropy.\\nSad, indeed, but by no means unusual. He had\\ntaught his benevolence to pour its warm tide exclusively\\nthrough one channel so that there was nothing to spare\\nfor other great manifestations of love to man, nor scarcely", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0397.jp2"}, "396": {"fulltext": "68\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nfor the nutriment of individual attacnments, unless they\\ncould minister, in some way, to the terrible egotism\\nwhich he mistook for an angel of God. Had Hollings-\\nworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s education been more enlarged, he might not so\\ninevitably have stumbled into this pit-fall. Buc this\\nidentical pursuit had educated him. He knew abs^\\nlutely nothing, except in a single direction, where he\\nhad thought so energetically, and felt to such a depth,\\nthat, no doubt, the entire reason and justice of the uni\\nverse appeared to be concentrated thitherward.\\nIt is my private opinion that, at this period of hia\\nlife Hollingsworth was fast going mad; and, as with\\nother crazy people (among whom I include humorists\\nof every degree), it required all the constancy of friend-\\nship to restrain his associates from pronouncing hin\\nan intolerable bore. Such prolonged fiddling upon one\\nstring, such multiform presentation of one idea His\\nspecific object (of which he made the public more than\\nsufficiently aware, through the medium of lectures and\\npamphlets) was to obtain funds for the construction of\\nan edifice, with a sort of collegiate endowment. On\\nthis foundation, he purposed to devote himself and a\\nfew disciples to the reform and mental culture of our\\ncriminal brethren. His visionary edifice was Hollings-\\nworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s one castle in the air it was the material type\\nin which his philanthropic dream strove to embody\\nitself; and he made the scheme more definite, and\\ncaught hold of it the more strongly, and kept his clutch\\ntne more pertinaciously, by rendering it visible to the\\nbodily eye. I have seen him, a hundred times, with a\\npencil and sheet of paper, sketching the facade, the side\\nview, or the rear of the structure, or planning the inter", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0398.jp2"}, "397": {"fulltext": "THE CONVALESCENT.\\n63\\nna arrangements, as lovingly as another man might\\nplan those of the projected home where he meant to be\\nhappy with his wife and children. I have known him\\nto begin a model of the building with little stones,\\ngathered at the brook-sidt, whither we had gone to\\ncool ourselves in the sultty noon of haying-time. Unlike\\nall other ghosts, his spirit haunted an edifice which,\\ninstead of being time-worn, and full of storied love, and\\njoy, and sorrow, had never yet come into existence.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cDear friend,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, once, to Hollingsworth, befoie\\nleaving my sick-chamber, I heartily wish that I could\\nmake your schemes my schemes, because it would be so\\ngreat a happiness to find myself treading the same path\\nwith you. But I am afraid tb is not stuff in me\\nstern enough for a philanthropist, or not in this\\npeculiar direction, or. at all events, not solely in this.\\nCan you bear with me, if such should prove to be the\\ncase\\nI will, at least, wait a while,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hollings\\nworth, gazing at me sternly and gloomily. But how\\ncan you be my life-long friend, except you strive with\\nme towards the great object of my life\\nHeaven forgive me A horrible suspicion crept into\\nmy heart, and stung the very core of it as with the tangs\\nof an adder. I wondered whether it were possible that\\nHollingsworth could have watched by my bed-side, with\\nall that devoted care, only for the ulterior purpose cf\\nmaking me a proselyte to his views", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0399.jp2"}, "398": {"fulltext": "VIII.\\nA MODERN ARCADIA.\\nMay-day I forget whether by Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sole decree,\\nor by th* unanimous vote of our Community had been\\ndeclared a movable festival. It was deferred until the\\nsun should have had a reasonable time to clear away the\\nsnow-drifts along the lee of the stone walls, and bring\\nout a few of the readiest wild-flowers. On the forenoon\\nof the substituted da} r ter admitting some of the balmy\\nair into my chamber, I decided that it was nonsense and\\neffeminacy to keep myself a prisoner any longer. So I\\ndescended to the sitting-room, and finding nobody there,\\nproceeded to the barn, whence I had already heard\\nZenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice, and along with it a girlish laugh, which\\nwas not so certainly recognizable. Arriving at the spot\\nit a little surprised me to discover that these merry out-\\nbreaks came from Priscilla.\\nThe two had been a Maying together. They had\\nfound anemones in abundance, housatonias by the hand-\\nful, some columbines, a few long-stalked violets, and a\\nquantity of white everlasting-flowers, and had filled up\\ntheir basket with the delicate spray of shrubs and trees.\\nNone were prettier than the maple-twigs, the leaf of\\nwhich looks like a scarlet bud in May, and like a plate\\nof vegetable gold in October. Zenobia, who si owed no\\nconscience in such matters, had also rifled a cherry-tree\\ncf one of its blossomed boughs, and, with all this variety", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0400.jp2"}, "399": {"fulltext": "A MODERN ARCADIA.\\n71\\nof sylvan ornament, had been decking out Priscilla.\\nBeing done with a good deal of taste, it made her look\\nmore charming than I should have thought possible,\\nwith my recollection ot the wan, frost-nipt girl, as here-\\ntofore described. Nevertheless, among those fragrant\\nblossoms, and conspicuously, too, had been stuck a weed\\nof evil odor and ugly aspect, which, as soon as I\\ndetected it, destroyed the effect of all the rest. There\\nwas a gleam of latent mischief not to call it deviltry\\nin Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eye, which seemed to indicate a slightly\\nmalicious purpose in the arrangement.\\nAs for herself, she scorned the rural buds and leaflets,\\nand wore nothing but her invariable flower of the\\ntropics.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhat do you think of Priscilla now, Mr. Cover-\\ndale asked she, surveying her as a child does its doll.\\nIs not she worth a verse or two\\nThere is only one thing amiss,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered l.\\nZenobia laughed, and flung the malignant weed away.\\nYes she deserves some verses now,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, and\\nfrom a better poet than myself. She is the very picture\\nof the New England spring subdued in tint, and rather\\ncool, but with a capacity of sunshine, and bringing us a\\nfew Alpine blossoms, as earnest of something richer,\\nthough hardly more beautiful, hereafter. The best type\\nof her is one of those anemones.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhat I find most singular in Priscilla, as her health\\nimproves.\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed Zenobia, is her wildness. Such,\\na quiet little body as she seemed, one would not have\\nexpected that. Why, as we strolled the woods together,\\nI could hardly keep her from scrambling up the trees,\\nlike a squirrel She has never before known what ii is", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0401.jp2"}, "400": {"fulltext": "~2\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\n10 live in the free air, and so it intoxicates her as if she\\nwere sipping wine. And she thinks it such a paradise\\nhere, and all of us, particularly Mr. Hollingsworth and\\nmyself, such angels! It is quite ridiculous, and pro-\\nvokes one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s malice almost, to see a creature so happy,\\nespecially a feminine creature.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThey are always happier than male creatures,\\nsaid I.\\nYou must correct that opinion, Mr. Coverdale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nreplied Zenobia, contemptuously, or I shall think you\\nlack the poetic insight. Did you ever see a happy\\nwoman in your life Of course, 1 do not mean a girl,\\nlike Priscilla, and a thousand others, for they are aU\\nalike, while on the sunny side of experience, but a\\ngrown woman. How can she be happy, after discover-\\ning that fate has assigned her but one single event,\\nwhich she must contrive to make the substance of her\\nwhole life A man has his choice of innumerable\\nevents.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cA woman, I suppose,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered I, \u00e2\u0080\u009cby constant\\nrepetition of her one event, may compensate for the lack\\nof variety.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIndeed said Zenobia.\\nWhile we were talking, Priscilla caught sight of\\nHollingsworth, at a distance, in a blue frock, and with a\\nhoe over his shoulder, returning from the field. She\\nimmediately set out to meet him, running and skipping,\\nwith spirits as light as the breeze of the May morning\\nbut with limbs too little exercised to be quite responsive\\nshe clapped her hands, too, with great exuberance cf\\ngesture, as is the custom of young girls when theif\\nelectricity overcharges them. But, all at once, midway", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0402.jp2"}, "401": {"fulltext": "A MODERN ARCADIA.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a273\\nto Hollingsworth, she paused, looked round about her,\\ntowards t,hj river, the road, the woods, and back towards\\nus, appearing to listen, as if she heard some one calling\\nher name, and knew not precisely in what direction.\\nHave you bewitched her I exclainled.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cIt is no sorcery of mine,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia; \u00e2\u0080\u009cbut I\\nhave seen the girl do that identical thing once or twice\\nbefore. Can you imagine what is the matter with her\\nNo unless,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, she has the gift of hearing\\nthose airy tongues that syllable men\u00e2\u0080\u0099s names,\u00e2\u0080\u0099 which\\nMilton tells about.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nFrom whatever cause, Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s animation seemed\\nentirely to have deserted her. She seated herself on a\\nrock, and remained there until Hollingsworth came up\\nand when he took her hand and led her back to us, she\\nrather resembled my original image of the wan and\\nspiritless Priscilla than the flowery May-queen of a\\nfew moments ago. These sudden transformations, only\\nto be accounted for by an extreme nervous susceptibil-\\nity, always continued to characterize the girl, though\\nwith diminished frequency as her health progressively\\ngrew more robust.\\nI was now on my legs again. My fit of illness had\\nbeen an avenue between two existences the low-arched\\nand darksome doorway, through which I crept out of a\\nlife of old conventionalisms, on my hands and knees, as\\nit were, and gained admittance into the freer region that\\nlay beyond. In this respect, it was like death. And,\\nas with death, too, it was good to have gone through it.\\nNo otherwise could I have rid myself of a thousand fol-\\nies, fripperies, prejudices, habits, and other such worldly\\ndust as in witably settles upon the crowd along the broad", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0403.jp2"}, "402": {"fulltext": "74\\nTHE B T HIE DALE ROMANCE.\\nhighway, giving them all one sordid aspect belore noon\\ntime, however freshly they may have begun their pil-\\ngrimage in the dewy morning. The very substance\\nupon my bones had not been fit to live with in any bet-\\nter, truer, or more energetic mode than that to which\\nwas accustomed. So it was taken off me and flung\\nluide, like any other worn-out or unseasonable garment\\nand, after shivering a little while in my skeleton, I began\\nto be clothed anew, and much more satisfactorily than\\nin my previous suit. In literal and physical truth, I was\\nquite another man. I had a lively sense of the exulta-\\ntion with which the spirit will enter on the next stage\\nof its eternal progress, after leaving the heavy burthen\\nof its mortality in an earthly grave, with as little con-\\ncern for what may become of it as now affected me for\\nthe flesh which I had lost.\\nEmerging into the genial sunshine, I half fancied that\\nthe labors of the brotherhood had already realized some\\nof Fourier\u00e2\u0080\u0099s predictions. Their enlightened culture of\\nthe soil, and the virtues with which they sanctified their\\nlife, had begun to produce an effect upon the material\\nworld and its climate. In my new enthusiasm, man\\nlooked strong and stately, and woman, O how beauti-\\nful! and the earth a green garden, blossoming with\\nmany-colored delights. Thus Nature, whose laws I had\\nbroken in various artificial ways, comported herself\\ntowards me as a strict but loving mother, who uses the\\nrod upon her little boy for his naughtiness, and then\\ngives him a smile, a kiss, and some pretty playthings\\nto console the urchin for her severity.\\nIn the interval of my seclusion, there had been a nura\\noer of recruits to our little army of saints and maityrs", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0404.jp2"}, "403": {"fulltext": "A MODERN ARCADIA.\\n73\\nThey were mostly individuals who had gone through\\nsuch an experience as to disgust them with ordinary\\npursuits, but who were not yet so old, nor had suffered\\nbo deeply, as to lose their faith in the better time to\\ncome. On comparing their minds one with another\\nthey often discovered that this idea of a Community had\\nbeen growing up, in silent and unknown sympathy, for\\nyears. Thoughtful, strongly-lined faces were among\\nthem sombre brows, but eyes that did not require spec-\\ntacles, unless prematurely dimmed by the student\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nlamplight, and hair that seldom showed a thread of sil-\\nver.* Age, wedded to the past, incrusted over with a\\nstony layer of habits, and retaining nothing fluid in its\\npossibilities, would have been absurdly out of place in\\nan enterprise like this. Youth, too, in its early dawn,\\nwas hardly more adapted to our purpose for it would\\nbehold the morning radiance of its own spirit beaming\\nover the very same spots of withered grass and barren\\nsand whence most of us had seen it vanish. We had\\nvery young people with us, it is true, downy lads,\\nrosy girls in their first teens, and children of all heights\\nabove one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s knee but these had chiefly been sent\\nhither for education, which it was one of the objects and\\nmethods of our institution to supply. Then we had\\nboarders, from town and elsewhere, who lived with us in\\na familiar way, sympathized more or less in our theo-\\nries, and sometimes shared in our labors.\\nOn the whole, it was a society such as has seldom met\\ntogether nor, perhaps, could it reasonably be expec ted\\nto hold together long. Persons of marked individuality\\ncrooked sticks, as some of us might be called are\\nexactly the easiest to bind up into a fagot. But, sn", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0405.jp2"}, "404": {"fulltext": "76\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nlong as our union should subsist, a man oi intellect and\\nfeeling, with a free nature in him, might have sought fa\\\\\\nMnd near without finding so many points of attraction\\nas would allure him hitherward. We were of all creeds\\nand opinions, and generally tolerant of all, on every im-\\naginable subject. Our bond, it seems to me, was not\\naffirmative, but negative. We had individually found\\none thing or another to quarrel with in our past life, and\\nwere pretty well agreed as to the inexpediency of lum-\\nbering along with the old system any further. As to\\nwhat should be substituted, there was much less una-\\nnimity. We did not greatly care at least, I never\\ndid for the written constitution under which our mil-\\nlennium had commenced. My hope was, that, between\\ntheory and practice, a true and available mode of life\\nmight be struck out; and that, even should we ulti-\\nmately fail, the months or years spent in the trial would\\nnot have been wasted, either as regarded passing en*\\njoyment, or the experience which makes men wise.\\nArcadians though we were, our costume bore no\\nresemblance to the be-ribboned doublets, silk breeches\\nand stockings, and slippers fastened with artificial roses,\\nthat distinguish the pastoral people of poetry and the\\nstage. In outward show, I humbly conceive, we looked\\nrather like a gang of beggars, or banditti, than either a\\ncompany ot honest laboring men, or a conclave of philos-\\nophers. Whatever might be our points of difference, we\\nall of us seemed to have come to Blithedale with the one\\nthrifty and laudable idea of wearing out our old clothes.\\nSuch garments as had an airing, whenever we strode\\na-held! Coats with high collars and with no collars\\nbroad-skirted or swallow-tailed, and with the waist a", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0406.jp2"}, "405": {"fulltext": "A MODERN aRCADIa.\\nevery point between the hip and armpit; pantaloons of\\na dozen successive epochs, and greatly defaced at the\\nknees by the humiliations of the wearer before his lady-\\nlove in short, we were a living epitome of defunct\\nfashions, and the very raggedest presentment of men\\nwho had seen better days. It was gentility in tatters.\\nOften retaining a scholarlike or clerical air, you might\\nhave taken us for the denizens of Grub-street, intent on\\ngetting a comfortable livelihood by agricultural labor or,\\nColeridge\u00e2\u0080\u0099s projected Pantisocracy in full experiment;\\nor, Candide and his motley associates, at work in their\\ncabbage-garden or anything else that was miserably out\\nat elbows, and most clumsily patched in the rear. We\\nmight have been sworn comrades to FalstafF\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ragged\\nregiment. Little skill as we boasted in other points of\\nhusbandr every mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s son of us would have served\\nadmirably to stick up for a scarecrow. And the worst\\nof the matter was, that the first energetic movement\\nessential to one downright stroke of real labor was sure\\nto put a finish to these poor habiliments. So we grad-\\nually flung them all aside, and took to honest homespun\\nand linsey-woolsey, as preferable, on the whole, to the\\nplan recommended, I think, by Virgil, Ara nudus\\nsere nudus\u00e2\u0080\u009d which, as Silas Foster remarked, when I\\ntranslated the maxim, would be apt to astonish the\\nwomen-folks.\\nAfter a reasonable training, the yeoman life throve\\nwell with us. Our faces took the sunburn kindly our\\nchests gained in compass, and our shoulders in breadth\\nand squareness our great brown fists looked as if they\\nhad never been capable of kid gloves. The plough, the\\nhoe, *he scythe, and the hay-fork, grew familiar to om", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0407.jp2"}, "406": {"fulltext": "78\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\ngrasp. The oxen responded to our voices. We couitl\\ndo almost as fair a day\u00e2\u0080\u0099s work as Silas Foster himself\\nsleep dieamlessly after it, and awake at daybreak with\\nonly a little stiffness of the joints, which was usually\\nquite gone by breakfast-time.\\nTo be sure, our next neighbors pretended to be incred-\\nulous as to our real proficiency in the business whi. h we\\nhad taken in hand. They told slanderous fables about our\\ninability to yoke our own oxen, or to drive them a-field\\nwhen yoked, or to release the poor brutes from their con-\\njugal bond at night-fall. They had the face to say, too,\\nthat the cows laughed at our awkwardness at milkmg-\\ntime, and invariably kicked over the pails partly in con-\\nsequence of our putting the stool on the wrong side, and\\npartly because, taking offence at the whisking of their\\ntails, we were in the habit of holding these natural fly-\\nflappers with one hand, and milking with the other.\\nThey further averred that we hoed up whole acres of\\nIndian corn and other crops, and drew the earth care-\\nfully about the weeds and that we raised five hundred\\ntufts of burdock, mistaking them for cabbages and that,\\nby dint of unskilful planting, few of our seeds ever came\\nup at all, or, if they did come up, it was stern-foremost\\nand that we spent the better part of the month of June\\nin reversing a field of beans, which had thrust them-\\nselves out of the ground in this unseemly way. They\\nquoted it as nothing more than an ordinary occurrence\\nfor one or other of us to crop off two or three fingers, of\\na morning, by our clumsy use of the hay-cutter. Finally\\nand as an ultimate catastrophe, these mendacious rogues\\ncirculated a report that we communitarians were exter-\\nminated, to the last man, by severing ourselves asundei", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0408.jp2"}, "407": {"fulltext": "A MODERN ARCADIA.\\n79\\nwith the sweep of our own scythes and that the world\\nhad lost nothing by this little accident.\\nBut this was pure envy and malice on the part of the\\nneighboring fanners. The peril of our new way of life\\nwas not lest we should fail in becoming practical agri-\\nculturists, but that we should probably cease to be any-\\nthing else. While our enterprise lay all in theory,\\nwe had pleased ourselves with delectable visions of the\\nspiritualization of labor. It was to be our form of\\nprayer and ceremonial of worship. Each stroke of the\\nhoe was to uncover some aromatic root of wisdom, here-\\ntofore hidden from the sun. Pausing in the field, to let\\nthe wind exhale the moisture from our foreheads, wo\\nwere to look upward, and catch glimpses into the far-off\\nsoul of truth. In this point of view, matters did not turn\\nout quite so well as we anticipated. It is very true that,\\nsometimes, gazing casually around me, out of the midst\\nof my toil, I used to discern a richer picturesqueness in\\nthe visible scene of earth and sky. There was, at such\\nmoments, a novelty, an unwonted aspect, on the face of\\nNature, as if she had been taken by surprise and seen at\\nunawares, with no opportunity to put off her real look,\\nand assume the mask with which she mysteriously hides\\nherself from mortals. But this was all. The clods of\\nearth, which we so constantly belabored and turned\\nover and over, were never ethereaiized into thought. Oui\\nthoughts, on the contrary, were fast becoming cloddish.\\nOur labor symbolized nothing, and left us menteL y\\nsluggish in the dusk of the evening. Intellectual activity\\nis incompatible with any large amount of bodily exer-\\ncise. The yeoman and the scholar the yeoman and\\nthi man of finest moral cu ture, though not the man of", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0409.jp2"}, "408": {"fulltext": "so\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nsturdiest sense and integrity are two distinct intii*\\nviduals, and can never be melted or welded into one\\nsubstance.\\nZenobia soon saw this truth, and gibed me about it,\\none evening, as Hofingsworth and I lay on the grass,\\nafter a hard day s worn.\\nI am afraid you did not make a song, to-day, while\\nloading the hay-cart,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, as Burns did, when he\\nwas reaping barley.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nBurns never made a song in haying-time,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I am\\newered, very positively. He was no poet while a\\nfarmer, and no farmer while a poet.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd, on the whole, which of the two characters do\\nyou like best?\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked Zenobia. For I have an idea\\nthat you cannot combine them any better than Bums\\ndid. Ah, I see, in my mind\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eye, what sort of an\\nindividual you are to be, two or three years hence.\\nGrim Silas Foster is your prototype, with his palm\\nof sole-leather and his joints of rusty iron (which all\\nthrough summer keep the stiffness of what he calls\\nhis winter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s rheumatize), and his brain of I don\u00e2\u0080\u0099t\\nknow what his brain is made of, unless it be a Savoy\\ncabbage but yours may be cauliflower, as a rather\\nmore delicate variety. Your physical man will be trans-\\nmuted into salt beef and fried pork, at the rate, should\\nimagine, of a pound and a half a day; that being\\nabout the average which we find necessary in the\\nkitchen. You will make your toilet for the day (still\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0099ike this delightful Silas Foster) by rinsing your fingers\\nand the front part of your face in a little tin-pan of water\\nat the door-step, anl teasing your hair with a wooden\\npocketomb before a seven-by-nine-inch looking-glass", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0410.jp2"}, "409": {"fulltext": "A MODERN ARCADIA.\\n81\\nYoui only pastime will be to smoke some* very vile\\ntobacco in the black stump of a pipe.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPray, spare me cried I. But the pipe is not\\nSilas\u00e2\u0080\u0099s only mode of solacing himself with the weed\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYour literature,\u00e2\u0080\u009d continued Zenobia, apparently de-\\nlighted with her description, will be the Farmer\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nAlmanac for I observe our friend Foster never gets so\\nfar as the newspaper. When you happen to sit down,\\nat odd moments, you will fall asleep, and make nasal\\nproclamation of the fact, as he does and invariably you\\nmust be jogged out of a nap, after supper, by the future\\nMrs. Coverdale, and persuaded to go regularly to bed.\\nAnd on Sundays, when you put on a blue coat with\\nbrass buttons, you will think of nothing else to do, but to\\ngo and lounge over the stone walls and rail fences, and\\nstare at the com growing. And you will look with a know-\\ning eye at oxen, and will have a tendency to clambei\\nover into pig-sties, and feel of the hogs, and give a guess\\nHow much they will weigh after you shall have stuck\\nand dressed them. Already I have noticed you begin\\nto speak through your nose, and with a drawl. Pray, if\\nyou really did make any poetry to-day, let us hear it\\nin that kind of utterance\\nCoverdale has given up making verses now,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said\\nHollingsworth, who never had the slightest appreciation\\nof my poetry. \u00e2\u0080\u009cJust think of him penning a sonnet\\nwifn a fist like that There is at least this good in a\\nlife of toil, that it takes the nonsense and fancy-work out\\nof a man, and leaves nothing but what truly belongs to\\nhim. If a farmer can make poetry at the plough-tail, it\\nmust be because his nature insists on it; and if 1 bat be\\nthe case, let him make it in Heaven\u00e2\u0080\u0099s narrv*", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0411.jp2"}, "410": {"fulltext": "62\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\n1 And how is it with you asked Zenobia, in a dif-\\nferent voice for she never laughed at Hollingsworth,\\nas she often did at me. You, I think, cannot have\\nceased to live a life of thought and feeling.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI have always been in earnest,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Holling?\\nworth. I have hammered thought out of iron, aftoi\\nheating the iron in my heart It matters little whs\\nmy outward toil may be. Were I a slave at the bottom\\nof a mine, I should keep the same purpose, the same\\nfaith in its ultimate accomplishment, that I do now.\\nMiles Coverdale is not in earnest, either as poet or a\\nlaborer.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYou give me hard measure, Hollingsworth,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said\\nI, a little hurt. \u00e2\u0080\u009cI have kept pace with you in the field;\\nand my bones feel as if I had been in earnest, what-\\never may be the case with my brain\\nI cannot conceive,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed Zenobia, with great\\nemphasis, and, no doubt, she spoke fairly the feeling\\nof the moment, \u00e2\u0080\u009cI cannot conceive of being so con-\\ntinually as Mr. Coverdale is within the sphere of a\\nstrong and noble nature, without being strengthened\\nand ennobled by its influence\\nThis amiable remark of the fair Zenobia confirmed\\nme in what I had already begun to suspect, that Hol-\\nlingsworth, like many other illustrious prophets, reform-\\ners and philanthropists, was likely to make at least two\\nproselytes among the women to One among the men.\\nZenobia and Priscilla These, I believe (unless my\\nunworthy self might be reckoned for a third), were the\\nonly disciples of his mission and I spent a great deal of\\ntime, uselessly, in trying to conjecture what Hollings\\nworth meant to do with them and they with him", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0412.jp2"}, "411": {"fulltext": "IX.\\nHOLLINGSWORTH, ZENOBIA, PRISCILLA.\\nIt is not, I apprehend, a healthy kind of mental\\noccupation, to devote ourselves too exclusively to the\\nstudy of individual men and women. If the person\\nunder examination be one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s self} the result is pretty\\ncertain to be diseased action of the heart, almost before\\nwe can snatch a second glance. Or, if we take the\\nfreedom to put a friend under our microscope, we\\ntnereby insulate him from many of his true relations,\\nmagnify his peculiarities, inevitably tear him into parts,\\nand, of course, patch him very clumsily together again.\\nWhat wonder, then, should we be frightened by the\\naspect of a monster, which, after all, though we can\\npoint to every feature of his deformity in the real per-\\nsonage, may be said to have been created mainly by\\nourselves.\\nThus, as my conscience has often whispered me, I\\ndid Hollingsworth a great wrong by prying into his\\ncharacter and am perhaps doing him as great a one, at\\nthis moment, by putting faith in the discoveries which I\\nseemed to make. But I could not help it. Had I loved\\nhim less, I might have used him better. He and\\nZenobia and Priscilla, both for their own sakes and as\\nconnected with him were separated from the rest of\\nthe Community, to my imagination, and stood forth as\\nthe indices of a problem which it was my business to", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0413.jp2"}, "412": {"fulltext": "54\\nTHE BLilHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nsolve. Other associates had a portion of my time\\nother matters amused me passing occurrences carried\\nme along with them, while they lasted. But here wa?\\nthe vortex of my meditations around which they\\nrevolved, and whitherward they too continually tended.\\nIn the midst of cheerful society, I had often a feeling\\nof loneliness. For it was impossible not to be sensible\\nthat, while these three characters figured so largely on\\nmy private theatre, I though probably reckoned as a\\nfriend by ail was at best but a secondary or tertiary\\npersonage with either of them.\\nI loved Hollingsworth, as has already been enough\\nexpressed. But it impressed me, more and more, that\\nthere was a stern and dreadful peculiarity in this man,\\nsuch as could not prove otherwise than pernicious to\\nthe happiness of those who should be drawn into too\\nintimate a connection with him. He was not alto rether\\nhuman. There was something else in Hollingsworth\\nbesides flesh and blood, and sympathies and affections\\nand celestial spirit.\\nThis is always true of those men wh have surren-\\ndered themselves to an overruling purpose. It does\\nnot so much impel them from without, nor even operate\\nas a motive power within, but grows incorporate with\\nall that they think and feel, and finally converts them\\ninto little else save that one principle. When such\\nbegins to be the predicament, it is not cowardice, but\\nwisdom, to avoid these victims. They have no heart\\nno sympathy, no reason, no conscience. They will\\nkeep no friend, unless he make himself the mirror ot\\ntheir purpose they will smite and slay you, and tramole\\nyour dead -.orpse under foot, all the more readily, if yoi", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0414.jp2"}, "413": {"fulltext": "HOLLINGSWORTH, ZENOBIA, PRISCILLA. 85\\nLake die first step with them, and cannot take the\\nsecond, and the third, and every other step of their ter\\nrib] y straight path. They have an idol, to which they\\nconsecrate themselves high-priest, and deem it holy work\\nto offer sacrifices of whatever is most precious and never\\nonce seem to suspect so cunning has the devil been\\nwith them that this false deity, in whose iron features,\\nimmitigable to all the rest of mankind, they see only\\nbenignity and love, is but a spectrum of the very priest\\nhimself, projected upon the surrounding darkness. And\\nthe higher and purer the original object, and the mor*\\nunselfishly it may have been taken up, the slighter is\\nthe probability that they can be led to recognize the pro-\\ncess by which godlike benevolence has been debased\\ninto all-devouring egotism.\\nOf course, I am perfectly aware that the above state-\\nment is exaggerated, in the attempt to make it adequate.\\nProfessed philanthropists have gone far but no origin-\\nally good man, I presume, ever went quite so far as\\nthis. Let the reader abate whatever he deems fit. The\\nparagraph may remain, however, both for its truth and\\nits exaggeration, as strongly expressive of the tendencies\\nwhich were really operative in Hollingsworth, and as\\nexemplifying the kind of error into which my mode of\\nobservation was calculated to lead me. The issue was,\\nthat in solitude I often shuddered at my friend. In my\\nrecollection of his dark and impressive countenance, the\\nfeatures grew more sternly prominent than the reality,\\nduskier in their depth and shadow, and more lurid in\\ntneir light the frown, that had merely flitted across hiy\\nbrow, seemed to have contorted it with an adamantine\\nwrinkle. On meeting him again, I was often filled with", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0415.jp2"}, "414": {"fulltext": "^0 THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nremorse, when his deep eyes beamed kindly upon me, as\\nwith the glow of a household fire that was bun. ing in a\\ncave. He is a man, after all,\u00e2\u0080\u009d thought I his Mak-\\ner\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own truest image, a philanthropic man not that\\nsteel engine of the devil\u00e2\u0080\u0099s contrivance, a philanthropist\\nBut in my wood-walks, and in my silent cl amber, ti 1\\ndark face frowned at me again.\\nWhen a young girl comes within the sphere of such a\\nman, she is as perilously situated as the maiden whom,\\nin the old classical myths, the people used to expose to a\\ndragon. If I had any duty whatever, in reference to\\nHollingsworth, it was to endeavor to save Priscilla from\\nthat kind of personal worship which her sex is generally\\nprone to lavish upon saints and heroes. It often requires\\nbut one smile out of the hero\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eyes into the girl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s or\\nwoman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart, to transform this devotion, from a senti-\\nment of the highest approval and confidence, into pas-\\nsionate love. Now, Hollingsworth smiled much upon\\nPriscilla, more than upon any other person. If she\\nthought him beautiful, it was no wonder. I often\\nthought him so, with the expression of tender human\\ncare and gentlest sympathy which she alone seemed to\\nhave power to call out upon his features. Zenobia, I\\nsuspect, would have given her eyes, bright as they were,\\nfor such a look; it was the least that our poor Pris-\\ncilla could do, to give her heart for a great many of\\nthem. There was the more danger of this, inasmuch as\\nthe footing on which we all associated at Bhthedale was\\nwidely different from that of conventional society.\\nWhile inclining us to the soft affections of the golden\\nftge, it seemed to authorize any individual, of either sex\\nto fall in love with any other, regardless of what would", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0416.jp2"}, "415": {"fulltext": "HOLLINGSWORTH, ZENOBIA, PRISCILLA. 81\\nelsewhere be judged suitable and prudent. Accordingly\\ntne tender passion was very rife among us, in various\\ndegree* of mildness or virulence, but mostly passing\\naway v ith the state of things that had given it origin.\\nThis was all well enough but, for a girl like Priscilla\\nand a woman like Zenobia to jostle one another in their\\nlove of a man like Hollingsworth, was likely to be no\\nchild\u00e2\u0080\u0099s play.\\nHad I been as cold-hearted as I sometimes thought\\nmyself, nothing would have interested me more than to\\nwitness the play of passions that must thus have been\\nevolved. But, in honest truth, I would really have gone\\nfar to save Priscilla, at least, from the catastrophe in\\nwhich such a drama would be apt to terminate.\\nPriscilla had now grown to be a very pretty girl, and\\nstill kept budding and blossoming, and daily putting on\\nsome new charm, which you no sooner became sensible\\nof than you thought it worth all that she had previously\\npossessed. So unformed, vague, and without substance,\\nas she had come to us, it seemed as if we could see\\nNature shaping out a woman before our very eyes, and\\nyet had only a more reverential sense of the mystery of\\na woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s soul and frame. Yesterday, her cheek was\\npale, to-day, it had a bloom. Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s smile, like a\\nbaby\u00e2\u0080\u0099s first one, was a wondrous novelty. Her imperfec-\\ntions and short-comings affected me with a kind of playful\\npathos, which was as absolutely bewitching a sensation\\nas ever I experienced. After she had been a month or\\ntwr at Blithedale, her animal spirits waxed high, and\\nkept ag r pretty constantly in a state of bubble and fer-\\nment, impelling her to far more bodily activity than she\\nhad yet strength to endure. She was very fond of play", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0417.jp2"}, "416": {"fulltext": "88 THE BLITHE DALE KOMAiNCE.\\nmg with the other girls out of doors. There is hardlv\\nanother sight in the world so pretty as that of a com\\npany of young girls, almost women grown, at play, and\\nso giving themselves up to their airy impulse that their\\ntiptoes barely touch the ground.\\nGirls are incomparably wilder and more effervescent\\nthan boys, more .untamable, and regardless of rule and\\nlimit, with an ever-shifting variety, breaking continually\\ninto new modes of fun, yet with a harmonious propriety\\nthrough all. Their steps, their voices, appear free as\\nthe wind, but keep consonance with a strain of music\\ninaudible to us. Young men and boys, on the other\\nnand, play, according to recognized law, old, tradition-\\nary games, permitting no caprioles of fancy, but with\\nscope enough for the outbreak of savage instincts. For.\\nyoung or old, in play or in earnest, man is prone to be\\na brute.\\nEspecially is it delightful to see a vigorous young girl\\nrun a race, with her head thrown back, her limbs mov-\\ning more friskily than they need, and an air between that\\nof a bird and a young colt. But Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s peculiar\\nzharm, in a foot-race, was the weakness and irregularity\\nwith which she ran. Growing up without exercise,\\nexcept to her poor little fingers, she had ne ^er yet\\nacquired the perfect use of her legs. Setting buoyantly\\nforth, therefore, as if no rival less swift than Atalanta\\ncould compete with her, she ran faltering] y, and often\\ntumbled on the grass. Such an incident though it\\nseems too slight to think of was a thing to laugh at\\nbut which brought the water into one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eyes, and lingered\\nm the memory after far greater joys and sorrows were\\nwept out of it, as antiquated tra^h. Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s life, a:", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0418.jp2"}, "417": {"fulltext": "HOLLINGSWORTH, ZENOBIA, PRISCILLA.\\n89\\nI beheld it, was full of trifles that affected me in just this\\nway.\\nWhen she had come to be quite at home among us,\\nI used to fancy that Priscilla played more pranks, and\\nperpetrated more mischief, than any other girl in the\\nCommunity. For example, I once heard Silas Foster,\\nin a very gruff voice, threatening to rivet three horse-\\nshoes round Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s neck and chain her to a post,\\nbecause she, with some other young people, had clam-\\nbered upon a load of hay, and caused it to slide off the\\ncart. How she made her peace I never knew but very\\nsoon afterwards I saw old Silas, with his brawny hands\\nround Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s waist, swinging her to and fro, and\\nfinally depositing her on one of the oxen, to take her\\nfirst lessons in riding. She met with terrible mishaps\\nin her efforts to milk a cow she let the poultry into the\\ngarden she generally spoilt whatever part of the dinner\\nshe took in charge she broke crockery she dropt our\\nbiggest pitcher into the well; and except with her\\nneedle, and those little wooden instruments for purse-\\nmaking was as unserviceable a member of society as\\nany young lady in the land. There was no other sort\\nof efficiency about her. Yet everybody was kind to\\nPriscilla everybody loved her and laughed at her to her\\nface, and did not laugh behind her back everybody\\nwould have given her half of his last crust, or the bigger\\nshare of his plum-cake. These w r ere pretty certain indi-\\ncations that we were all conscious of a pleasant weak-\\nness in the girl, and considered her not quite able to\\nlook after her own interests, or fight her battle with the\\nworld. And Hollingsworth perhaps because he had\\nbeen the means of introducing Priscilla to her new", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0419.jp2"}, "418": {"fulltext": "90\\nTHE BLI1 HE DALE ROMANCE.\\nabode appeared to recognize her as his own especial\\ncharge.\\nHer simple, careless, childish flow of spirits often\\nmade me sad. She seemed to me like a butterfly at\\nplay in a flickering bit of sunshine, and mistaking it for\\nbroad and eternal summer. We sometimes hold mirth\\nto a stricter accountability than sorrow it must show\\ngood cause, or the echo of its laughter comes back\\ndrearily. Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gayety, moreover, was of a nature\\nthat showed me how delicate an instrument she was\\nand what fragile harp-strings were her nerves. As they\\nmade sweet music at the airiest touch, it would require\\nbut a stronger one to burst them all asunder. Absurd\\nas it might be, I tried to reason with her, and persuade\\nher not to be so joyous, thinking that, if she would draw\\nless lavishly upon her fund of happiness, it would last\\nthe longer. I remember doing so, one summer evening,\\nwhen we tired laborers sat looking on, like Goldsmith\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nold folks under the village thorn-tree, while the young\\npeople were at their sports.\\nWhat is the use or sense of being so very gay I\\nsaid to Priscilla, while she was taking breath, after a\\ngreat frolic. I love tc :ee a sufficient cause for every-\\nthing and I can see none for this. Pray tell me, now,\\nvhat kind of a world you imagine this to be, which you\\nare so merry in.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI never think about it at all,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Priscilla\\nlaughing. But this I am sure of, that it is a world\\nAdhere everybody is kind to me, and where I love every-\\nbody. My heart keeps dancing within me, and all the\\nfoolish things which you see me do are o/ily the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0420.jp2"}, "419": {"fulltext": "HOLLINGSWORTH, ZENOBIA, PRISCILLA,\\n91\\n{notions of my heart. How can I be dismal, if my l.eart\\n*\u00e2\u0080\u00a2*111 not let me\\nHave you nothing dismal to remember I sug-\\ngested. If not, then, indeed, you are very fortu-\\nnate\\nAh said Priscilla, slowly.\\nAnd then came that unintelligible gesture, when she\\nseemed to be listening to a distant voice.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cFor my part,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I continued, beneficently seeking to\\novershadow her with my own sombre humor, my past\\nlife has been a tiresome one enough yet I would rather\\nlook backward ten times than forward once. For, little\\nas we know of our life to come, we may be very sure, for\\none thing, that the good we aim at will not be attained.\\nPeople never do get just the good they seek. If it come\\nat all, it is something else, which they never dreamed\\nof, and did not particularly want. Then, again, we\\nmay rest certain that our friends of to-day will not be\\nour friends of a few years hence but, if we keep one of\\nthem, it will be at the expense of the others and, most\\nprobably, we shall keep none. To be sure, there are\\nmore to be had but who cares about making a new set\\nof friends, even should they be better than those around\\nus\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNot I said Priscilla. I will live and die with\\nthese\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell; but let the future go,\u00e2\u0080\u009d resumed I. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAs for\\nthe present moment, if we could look into the hearts\\nwhere we wish to be most valued, what should you\\nexpect to see One\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own likeness, in the innermost,\\nnoliest niche Ah I don\u00e2\u0080\u0099t know It may not. be there\\nnt all It may be a dusty image, thrust asi le into", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0421.jp2"}, "420": {"fulltext": "92\\nTHE BLITHEDA^E ROMANCE\\ncoruer, and by and by to be flung- out of doors, where\\nany foot may trample upon it. If not to-day, then to-\\nmorrow And so, Priscilla, I do not see much wisdom\\nin being so very merry in this kind of a worid.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt had taken me nearly seven years of worldly life to\\nhive up the bitter honey which I here offered to Priscilla.\\nAnd she rejected it\\nI don\u00e2\u0080\u0099t believe one word of what you say she\\nreplied, laughing anew. You made me sad, for a\\nminute, by talking about the past but the past never\\ncomes back again. Do we dream the same dream\\ntwice There is nothing else that I am afraid of.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nSo away she ran, and fell down on the green grass,\\nas it was often her luck to do, but got up again, without\\nany harm.\\nPriscilla, Priscilla cried Hollingsworth, who was\\nsitting on the door-step you had better not run any\\nmore to-night. You will weary yourself too much.\\nAnd do not sit down out of doors, for there is a heavy\\ndew beginning to fall.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAt his first word, she went and sat down under the\\nporch, at Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s feet, entirely contented and\\nhappy. What charm was there in his rude massiveness\\nthat so attracted and soothed this shadow-like girl It\\nappeared to me, who have always been curious in such\\nmatters, that Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s vague and seemingly causeless\\nflow of felicitous feeling was that with which love blesses\\ninexperienced hearts, before they begin to suspect what\\nIs going on within them. It transports them to the\\nseventh heaven; and, if you ask what brought them\\nthither, they neither can tell nor care to learn but", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0422.jp2"}, "421": {"fulltext": "HOLLINGSWORTH, ZENOBIA, PRISCILLA. IW\\ncherish an ecstatic faith that there they shall abide for\\never.\\nZenobia was in the door-way, not far from Hollings-\\nworth. She gazed at Priscilla in a very singular way\\nIndeed, it was a sight worth gazing at, and a beautiful\\nsight, too, as the fair girl sat at the feet of that dark,\\npowerful figure. Her air, while perfectly modest, deli-\\ncate and virgin-like, denoted her as swayed by Hol-\\nlingsworth, attracted to him, and unconsciously seeking\\nto rest upon his strength. I could not turn away my\\nown eyes, but hoped that nobody, save Zenobia and\\nmyself, wore witnessing this picture. It is before me\\nnow, with the evening twilight a little deepened by the\\ndusk of memory.\\nCome hither, Priscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia. I have\\nsomething to say to you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nShe spoke in little more than a whisper. But it is\\nstrange how expressive of moods a whisper may often\\nbe. Priscilla felt at once that something had gone\\nwrong.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAre you angry with me she asked, rising slowly,\\nand standing before Zenobia in a drooping attitude.\\nWhat have I done I hope you are not angry\\nNo, no, Priscilla said Hollingsworth, smiling. I\\nwill answer for it, she is not. You are the one little\\nperson in the world with whom nobody can be angry\\nAngry with you, child What a silly idea\\nexclaimed Zenobia, laughing. No, indeed But, my\\ndear Priscilla, you are getting to be so very pretty that\\nyou absolutely need a duenna and, as I am older than\\nyou, anu have had my own little experience of life, and\\nthink myself exceedingly sage, I intend to fill the place", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0423.jp2"}, "422": {"fulltext": "y\\\\ THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE\\na maiden-aunt. Every day, I shall give you a lec-\\n1 .re, a quarter of an hour in length, on the morals,\\nmanners and proprieties, of social life. When our pas-\\ntoral shall be quite played out, Priscilla, my worldly\\nwisdom may stand you in good stead.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI am afraid you are angry with me repeated Pris-\\ncilla, sadly for, while she seemed as impressible as wax,\\nthe girl often showed a persistency in her own ideas as\\nstubborn as it was gentle.\\nDear me, what can I say to the child cried Zeno-\\nbia, in a tone of humorous vexation. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, well;\\nsince you insist on my being angry, come to my room,\\nthis moment, and let me beat you\\nZenobia bade Hollingsworth good-night very sweetly,\\nand nodded to me with a smile. But, just as she\\nturned aside with Priscilla into the dimness of the\\nporch, I caught another glance at her countenance.\\nIt would have made the fortune cf a tragic actress,\\ncould she have borrowed it for the moment when she\\nfumbles in her bosom lor the concealed dagger, or the\\nexceedingly sharp bodkin, or mingles the ratsbane in\\nher lover\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bowl of wine or her rival\u00e2\u0080\u0099s cup of tea. Not\\nthat I in the least anticipated any such catastrophe,\\nit being a remarkable truth that custom has in no one\\npoint a greater sway than over our modes of wreaking\\nour wild passions. And, besides, had we been in Italy,\\ninstead of New England, it was hardly yet a crisis for\\nthe dagger or the bowl.\\nIt often amazed me, however, that Hollingsworth\\nshould show himself so recklessly tender towards Pris-\\ncilla, and never once seem to think of the effect which\\nit might have upon her heart. But the man, as I have", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0424.jp2"}, "423": {"fulltext": "HOLLINGSWORTH, ZKNOBIA, PRISCILLA.\\n95\\nendeavored to explain, was thrown completely off his\\nmoral balance, and quite bewildered as to his personal\\nrelations, by his great excrescence of a phila nthropic\\nscheme. I used to see, or fancy, indications that he waf\\nnot altogether obtuse to Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s influence as a woman.\\nNo doubt, however, he had a still more exquisite enjoy-\\nment of Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s silent sympathy with his purposes, so\\nunalloyed with criticism, and therefore more grateful\\nthan any intellectual approbation, which always involves\\na possible reserve of latent censure. A man poet,\\nprophet, or whatever he may be readily persuades\\nhimself of his right to all the worship that is voluntarily\\ntendered. In requital of so rich benefits as he was to\\nconfer upon mankind, it would have been hard to deny\\nHollingsworth the simple solace of a young girl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart,\\nwhich he held in his hand, and smelled to, like a rose-\\nbud. But what if, while pressing out its fragrance, he\\nshould crush the tender rosebud in his grasp\\nAs for Zenobia, I saw no occasion to give myself any\\ntrouble. With her native strength, and her experience\\nof the world, she could not be supposed to need any\\nhelp of mine. Nevertheless, I was really generous\\nenough to feel some little interest likewise for Zenobia.\\nWith all her fa ults (which might have been a great\\nmany, besides the abundance that I knew of), she pos-\\nsessed noble traits, and a heart which must at least have\\nbeen valuable while new. And she seemed ready to\\nfling it away as uncalculatingly as Priscilla herself. I\\ncould not but suspect that, if merely at play with Hol-\\nlingsworth, she was sporting with a power which she\\ndid not fully estimate. Or, if in earnest, it mighi\\neh oa between Zenobia 3 passionate foice, and his dark", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0425.jp2"}, "424": {"fulltext": "96\\nTHE BLlfHEHALE ROMANCE.\\nself delusive egotism, to turn out such earnest as would\\ndevelop itself in some sufficiently tragic catastrophe,\\nthough the dagger and the bowl should go for nothing\\nin it.\\nMeantime, the gossip of the Community set them\\ndown as a pair of lovers. They took walks together,\\nand were not seldom encountered in the wood-paths\\nHollingsworth deeply discoursing, in tones solemn and\\nsternly pathetic. Zenobia, with a rich glow on her\\ncheeks, and her eyes softened from their ordinary bright\\nness, looked so beautiful, that, had her companion been\\nten times a philanthropist, it seemed impossible but\\nthat one glance should melt him back into a man.\\nOftener than anywhere else, they went to a certain\\npoint on the slope of a pasture, commanding nearly the\\nwhole of our own domain, besides a view*of the river,\\nand an airy prospect of many distant hills. The bond\\nof our Community was such, that the members had the\\nprivilege of building cottages for their own residence\\nwithin our precincts, thus laying a hearth-stone and\\nfencing in a home private and peculiar to all desirable\\nextent, while yet the inhabitants should continue to\\nshare the advantages of an associated life. It was\\ninferred that Hollingsworth and Zenobia intended to\\nrear their dwelling on this favorite spot.\\nI mentioned these rumors to Hollingsworth, in a play\\nful way.\\nHad you consulted me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I went on to observe, 1\\nshould have recommended a site further to the left,\\njust a little withdrawn into the wood, with two or three\\npeeps at the prospect, among the trees. You will be in\\nthe shady vale years, long before you can raise any", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0426.jp2"}, "425": {"fulltext": "COLLINGSWORTH, ZENOBIA, PRISCILLA.\\n97\\nOctter kind of shade around your cottage, if you build it\\non this bare slope.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nBut I offer my edifice as a spectacle to the world, M\\nsaid Hollingsworth, \u00e2\u0080\u009cthat it may take example and\\nbuild many another like it. Therefore, I mean to set it\\non the open hill-side.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nTwist these words how I might, they offered no very\\nsatisfactory import. It seemed hardl3 T probable that\\nHollingsworth should care about educating the public\\ntaste in the department of cottage architecture desirable\\nas such improvement cerUinly was.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0427.jp2"}, "426": {"fulltext": "X.\\nA VISITER FROM TOWN.\\nHollingsworth and I we had been hoeing potatoes,\\nthat forenoon, while the rest of the fraternity were\\nengaged in a distant quarter of the farm sat under a\\nclump of maples, eating our eleven o\u00e2\u0080\u0099clock lunch, when\\nwe saw a stranger approaching along the edge of the\\nfield. He had admitted himself from the road-side\\nthrough a turnstile, and seemed to have a purpose ot\\nspeaking with us.\\nAnd, by the by, we were favored with many visits at\\nBlithedale, especially from people who sympathized with\\nour theories, and perhaps held themselves ready to unite\\nin our actual experiment as soon as there should appear\\na reliable promise of its success. It was rather ludi-\\ncrous, indeed (to me, at least, whose enthusiasm had\\ninsensibly been exhaled, together with the perspiration\\noi many a hard day\u00e2\u0080\u0099s toil), it was absolutely funny,\\ntherefore, to observe what a glory was shed about our\\nlife and labors, in the imagination of these longing\\nproselytes. In their view, we were as poetical as\\nArcadians, besides being as practical as the hardest-\\nfisted husbandmen in Massachusetts. We did net, it is\\ntrue, spend much time in piping to our sheep, or war-\\nbling our innocent loves to the sisterhood. But they\\ngave us credit for imbuing the ordinary rustic occupa-\\ntions with a kind of religious poetry, insomuch that out", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0428.jp2"}, "427": {"fulltext": "A VISITER FROM TOWN.\\n99\\nvery cow-yards and pig-sties were as delightfully fragrant\\nas a dower-garden. Nothing used to please me more\\nthan to see one of these lay enthusiasts snatch up a hoe,\\nas they were very prone to do, and set to work with n\\nvigor that perhaps carried him through about a dozen\\nill-directed strokes. Men are wonderfully soon satisfied\\nin this day of shameful bodily enervation, when, from\\none end of life to the other, such multitudes never taste\\nthe sweet weariness that follows accustomed toil. I se\u00c2\u00bb*\\ndom saw the new enthusiasm that did not grow as flimsy\\nand flaccid as the proselyte\u00e2\u0080\u0099s moistened shirt-collar, with\\na quarter of an hour\u00e2\u0080\u0099s active labor under a July sun.\\nBut the person now at hand had not at all the air of\\none of these amiable visionaries. He was an elderly\\nman, dressed rather shabbily, yet decently enough, in a\\ngray frock-coat, faded towards a brown hue, and wore a\\nbroad-brimmed white hat, of the fashion of several years\\ngone by. His hair was perfect silver, without a dark\\nthread in the whole of it his nose, though it had a\\nscarlet tip, by nc means indicated the jollity of which a\\nred nose is the generally admitted symbol. He was a\\nsubdued, undemonstrative old man, who would doubtless\\ndrink a glass of liquor, now and then, and probably more\\nthan was good for him not, however, with a purpose\\nof undue exhilaration, but in the hope of bringing his\\nspirits up to the ordinary level of the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s cheerful-\\nness. Drawing nearer, there was a shy look about him\\nas if he were ashamed of his poverty or, at any rate,\\nfor some reason or other, would rather have ns glance\\nat him sidelong than take a full front view. He had\\na queer appearance of hiding himself behind the patch\\non his left eye", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0429.jp2"}, "428": {"fulltext": "100\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\n1 know this old gentleman,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I to H( llingswortYi,\\nas we sat observing him that is, I have met him a\\nhundred times in town, and have often amused my fancy\\nwith wondering what he was before he came to be what\\nhe is. He haunts restaurants and such places, and has\\nan odd way of lurking in corners or getting behind a\\ndoor, whenever practicable, and holding out his hand\\nwith some little article in it which he wishes you to\\nbuy. The eye of the world seems to trouble him, al-\\nthough he necessarily lives so much in it. I never\\nexpected to see him in an open field.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHave you learned anything of his J jstory asked\\nHollingsworth.\\nNot a circumstance,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I answered but there must\\nbe something curious in it. I take him to be a harmless\\nsort of a person, and a tolerably honest one but his\\nmanners, being so furtive, remind me of those of a rat,\\na rat without the mischief, the fierce eye, the teeth to\\nbite with, or the desire to bite. See, now He means\\nto skulk along that fringe of bushes, and approach us\\non the other side of our clump of maples.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWe soon heard the old man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s velvet tread on the\\ngrass, indicating that he had arrived within a few feet\\nof where we sat.\\nGood-morning, Mr. Moodie,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth,\\naddressing the stranger as an acquaintance you must\\nhave had a hot and tiresome walk from the city. Sit\\ndown, and take a morsel of our bread and cheese.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe visiter made a grateful little murmur of acquies-\\ncence, and sat down in a spot somewhat removed; so\\nthat, glancing round, I could see his gray pantaloons and\\ndusty shoes, while his upper part was mostly hidden be-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0430.jp2"}, "429": {"fulltext": "A VISITER FROM TOWN.\\n10\\nhind the shrubbery. Nor did he come forth from this\\nretirement during the whole of the interview that fol-\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0098owech We handed him such food as we had, together\\nwith a brown jug of molasses and water (would that it\\nhad been brandy, or something better, for the sake of his\\nchill old heart!), like priests offering dainty sacrifice to an\\nenshrined and invisible idol. I have no idea that he\\nreally lacked sustenance; but it was quite touching,\\nnevertheless, to hear him nibbling away at our crusts.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nMr. Moodie,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, do you remember selling me\\none of those very pretty little silk purses, of which you\\nseem to have a monopoly in the market I keep it to\\nthis day, I can assure you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAh, thank you,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said our guest. Yes, Mr. Cover-\\ndale, I used to sell a good many of those little purses.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHe spoke languidly, and only those few words, like a\\nwatch with an inelastic spring, that just ticks a moment\\nor two, and stops again. He seemed a very forlorn old\\nman. In the wantonness of youth, strength, and com-\\nfortable condition, making my prey of people\u00e2\u0080\u0099s indi-\\nvidualities, as my custom was, I tried to identify my\\nmind with the old fellow\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, and take his v.ew of the\\nworld, as if looking through a smoke-blackened glass at\\nthe sun. It robbed the landscape of all its life. Those\\npleasantly swelling slopes of our farm, descending towards\\nthe wide meadows, through which sluggishly circled the\\nbrimful tide of the Charles, bathing the long sedges on\\nits hither and further shores the broad, sunn} gleam\\nover the winding water that peculiar picturesqueness\\nof the scene where capes and headlands put themselves\\nboldly forth upon the perfect level of the meadow, as\\ninto a green lake, with inlets between the promontori**", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0431.jp2"}, "430": {"fulltext": "IU2 THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nthe shadowy woodland, with twinkling showers of light\\nfalling into its depths; the sultry heat-vapor, which rose\\neverywhere like incense, and in which my soul delighted,\\nas indicating so rich a fervor in the passionate day, and\\nin the earth that was burning with its love I beheld\\nall these things as through old Moodie\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eyes. When\\nmy eyes are dimmer than they have yet come to be, J\\nwill go thither again, and see if I did not catch the tone\\nof his mind aright, and if the cold and lifeless tint of\\nhis perceptions be not then repeated in my own.\\nYet it was unaccountable to myself, the interest that I\\nfelt in him.\\nHave you any objection,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said 1, \u00e2\u0080\u009cto telling me who\\nmade those little purses\\nGentlemen have often asked me that,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Moodie,\\nslowly but I shake my head, and say little or nothing,\\nand creep out of the way as well as I can. I am a man\\nof few words and if gentlemen were to be told one\\nthing, they would be very apt, I suppose, to ask me\\nanother. But it happens, just now, Mr. Coverdale that\\nyou can tell me more about the maker of those little\\npurses than I can tell you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhy do you trouble him with needless questions,\\nCoverdale?\u00e2\u0080\u009d interrupted Hollingsworth. \u00e2\u0080\u009cYou must\\nhave known, long ago, that it was Priscilla. And sc,\\nmy good friend, you have come to see her? Well, I\\nam glad of it. You will find her altered very mui.h for\\nthe better, since that winter evening when you put her\\ninto my charge. Why, Priscilla has a bicam in he;\\ncheeks, now\\nHas my pale little girl a bloom?\u00e2\u0080\u009d repeated Moodie,\\nwith a kind of slow wonder. \u00e2\u0080\u009cPriscilla with a bloom", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0432.jp2"}, "431": {"fulltext": "A VISITER FROM TOWN.\\n103\\nin her cheeks Ah, I am afraid I shall not know my\\n.ittle girl. And is she happy\\nJust as huppy as a bird,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hollingsworth.\\nThen, gentlemen,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said our guest, apprehensively,\\nI don\u00e2\u0080\u0099t think it well for me to go any further. I crept\\nhitherward only to ask about Priscilla; and now that\\nyou have told me such good news, perhaps I can do no\\nbetter than to creep back again. If she were to see this\\nold face of mine, the child would remember some very\\nsad times which we have spent together. Some very\\nsad times, indeed She has forgotten them, I know,\\nthem and me, else she could not be so happy, nor\\nhave a bloom in her cheeks. Yes yes yes,\u00e2\u0080\u009d con-\\ntinued he, still with the same torpid utterance with\\nmany thanks to you, Mr. Hollingsworth, I will creep\\nback to town again.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYou shall do no such thing, Mr. Moodie,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hol-\\nlingsworth, bluffly. Priscilla often speaks of you and\\nif there lacks anything to make her cheeks bloom like\\ntwo damask roses, I \u00e2\u0080\u0099ll venture to say it is just the sight\\nof your face. Come, we will go and find her.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nMr. Hollingsworth said the old man, in his hesi-\\ntating way.\\nWell,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hollingsworth.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHas there been any call for Priscilla?\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked\\nMoodie and though his face was hidden from us, his\\ntone gave a sure indication of the mysterious nod and\\nwink with which he put the question. You know, 1\\nthink, sir, what I mean.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI have not the remotest suspicion what you mean,\\nMr. Moodie,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied Hollingsworth nobody, to my\\nknowledge, has called for Priscilla, except yourself Put", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0433.jp2"}, "432": {"fulltext": "104\\nTHE E^IilEDALE ROMANCE.\\ncome we are losing timr, and 1 nave several thirty tn\\nsay to you by the way.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd, Mr. Hollingsworth repeated Moodie.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, again!\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried my friend, rather impatiently\\nu What now\\nThere is a lady here,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the old man and his\\nvoice lost some of its wearisome hesitation. You will\\naccount it a very strange matter for me to talk about\\nbut I chanced to know this lady when she was but a\\nlittle child. If I am rightly informed, she has grown tc\\nbe a very fine woman, and makes a brilliant figure in\\nthe world, with her beauty, and her talents, and her\\nnoble way of spending her riches. I should recognize\\nthis lady, so people tell me, by a magnificent flower in\\nher hair.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhat a rich tinge it gives to his colorless ideas,\\nwhen he speaks of Zenobia I whispered to Hollings-\\nworth. But how can there possibly be any interest or\\nconnecting link between him and her\\nThe old man, for years past,\u00e2\u0080\u009d whispered Hollings-\\nworth, \u00e2\u0080\u009chas been a little out of his right mind, as you\\nprobably see.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhat I would inquire,\u00e2\u0080\u009d resumed Moodie, \u00e2\u0080\u009cis,\\nwhether this beautiful lady is kind to my poor Priscilla.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nVery kind,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth.\\nDoes she love her asked Moodie.\\nl It should seem so,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered my friend. They\\nare always together.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nLike a gentlewoman and her maid-servant, I fancy?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\ntuggested the old man.\\nThere was something so singular in his way of say\\nmg this, ths f I could not resist the impulse 10 turn quite", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0434.jp2"}, "433": {"fulltext": "A VISITER FROM TOWN.\\n105\\nriund, so as to catch a glimpse of his face, almost\\nimagining that I should see another person than old\\nMoodie. But there he sat, with the patched side of his\\nface towards me.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cLike an elder and younger sister, rather,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied\\nHollingsworth.\\nAh said Moodie, more complacently, for his\\nlatter tones hau harshness and acidity in them, it\\nwould gladden my old heart to witness that. If one\\nthing would make me happier than another, Mr. Hol-\\nlingsworth, it would be to see that beautiful lady hold-\\ning my little girl by the hand.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cCome along,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth, \u00e2\u0080\u009cand perhaps\\nyou may.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAfter a little more delay on the part of our freakish\\nvisiter, they set forth together, old Moodie keeping a\\nstep or two behind Hollingsworth, so that the latter\\ncould not very conveniently look him in the face. 1\\nremained under the tuft of maples, doing my utmost to\\ndraw an inference from the scene that had just passed.\\nIn spite of Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s off-hand explanation, it did\\nnot strike me that our strange guest was really beside\\nhimself, but only that his mind needed screwing up, like\\nan instrument long out of tune, the strings of which\\nhave ceased to vibrate smartly and sharply. Methought\\nit would be profitable for us, projectors of a happy life,\\nto welcome this old gray shadow, and cherish him as\\none of us, and let him creep about our domain, in order\\nthat he might be a little merrier for our sakes, and we,\\nsometimes, a little sadder for his. Human destinies\\nlook ominous without some perceptible intermixture of\\nthe sable or the gray. And then, too, should any of our", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0435.jp2"}, "434": {"fulltext": "06\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nfraternity grow feverish with an over-exulting senx of\\nprosperity, it would be a sort of cooling regimen to slink\\noff into the woods, and spend an hour, or a day, or as\\nmany days as might be requisite to the cure, in unmter\\nrupted communion with this deplorable old Moodie\\nGoing homeward to dinner, I had a glimpse of him,\\nbek\u00e2\u0080\u0099nd the trunk of a tree, gazing earnestly towards a\\nparticular window of the farm-house; and, by and by,\\nPriscilla appeared at this window, playfully drawing\\nalong Zenobia, who looked as bright as the very day\\nthat was blazing down upon us, only not, by many\\ndegrees, so well advanced towards her noon. I was\\nconvinced that this pretty sight must have been pur-\\nposely arranged by Priscilla for the old man to see.\\nziut either the girl held her too long, or her fondness\\nwas resented as too great a freedom for Zenobia sud-\\nlenly pnt Priscilla decidedly away, and gave her a\\nnaughty look, as from a mistress to a dependant. Old\\nMoodie shook his head; and again and again I saw\\nhim sb*ke it, as he withdrew along the road; and, at\\nthe laM point whence the farm-house was visible, he\\nturned shook his uplifted staff.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0436.jp2"}, "435": {"fulltext": "XI.\\nTHE WOOD-PATH.\\nNot long after the preceding incident, in order to get\\nthe ache of too constant labor out of my bones, and to\\nrelieve my spirit of the irksomeness of a settled routine,\\n1 took a holiday, it was my purpose to spend it, all\\nalone, from breakfast-time till twilight, in the deepest\\nwood-seclusion that lay anywhere around us. Though\\nfond of society, I was so constituted as to need these\\noccasional retirements, even in a life like that of Blithe-\\ndale, which was itself characterized by a remoteness\\nfrom the world. Unless renewed by a yet further with-\\ndrawal towards the inner circle of self-communion, I lost\\nthe better part of my individuality. My thoughts be-\\ncame of little worth, and my sensibilities grew as arid\\nas a tuft of moss (a thing whose life is in the shade, the\\nrain, or the noontide dew), crumbling in the sunshine,\\nafter long expectance of a shower. So, with my heart\\nfull of a drowsy pleasure, and cautious not to dissipate\\nmy mood by previous intercourse with any one, I hurried\\naway, and was soon pacing a wood-path, arched over\\nhead with boughs, and dusky-brown beneath my feet.\\nAt first, I walked very swiftly, as if the heavy flood-\\ntide of social life were roaring at my heels, and would\\noutstrip and overwhelm me, without all the better dili-\\ngence in my escape. But, threading the more distant\\nwindings of the track, J abated pace, and looked", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0437.jp2"}, "436": {"fulltext": "108\\nTHE BLITHEDALE liOMA fCE.\\nabout me foi some side-aisle, that should admit me into\\nthe innermost sanctuary of this green cathedral, just as,\\nin human acquaintanceship, a casual opening some times\\nlets us, all of a sudden, into the long-sought intimacy of\\na mysterious heart. So ncj :h was I absorbed in my\\nreflections, or, rather, in my mood, the substance of\\nwhich was as yet too shapeless to be called thought,\\nthat footsteps rustled on the leaves, and a figure passed\\nme by, almost without impressing either the sound ot\\nsight upon my consciousness.\\nA moment afterwards, I heard a voice at a little dis-\\ntance behind me, speaking so sharply and impertinently\\nthat it made a complete discord with my spiritual state,\\nand caused the latter to vanish as abruptly as when\\nyou thrust a finger into a soap-bubble.\\nHalloo, friend cried this most unseasonable voice.\\nStop a moment, I say! I must have a word with\\nyou\\nI turned about, in a humor ludicrously irate. In the\\nfirst place, the interruption, at any rate, was a grievous\\ninjury; then, the tone displeased me. And, finally,\\nunless there be real affection in his heart, a man cannot,\\nsuch is the bad state to which the world has brought\\nitself, cannot more effectually show his contempt for\\na brother-mortal, nor more gallingly assume a position\\nof superiority, than by addressing him as friend.\u00e2\u0080\u0099 1\\nEspecially does the misapplication of this phrase bring\\nout that latent hostility which is sure to animate peculiar\\nsects, and those who, with however generous a purpose,\\nhave sequestered themselves from the crowd; a feeling,\\nit is true, which may be hidden in some dog-kennel of\\nthe heart, grumbling there in the darkness, but is nevfi", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0438.jp2"}, "437": {"fulltext": "THE WOOD-rATH.\\n109\\nquite extinct, untill the dissenting party have gained\\npower and scope enough to treat the world generously,\\nfor my part, I should have taken it as far less an insult\\nto be styled c fellow,\u00e2\u0080\u009d \u00e2\u0080\u009cclown,\u00e2\u0080\u009d or \u00e2\u0080\u009cbumpkin.\u00e2\u0080\u009d To\\neither of these appellations my rustic garb (it was a\\nlinen blouse, with checked shirt and striped pantaloons,\\na chip-hat on my head, and a rough hickory-stick in my\\nbaud) very fairly entitled me. As the case stood, my\\ntemper darted at once to the opposite pole not friend,\\nbut enemy\\nci What do you want with me said I, facing about.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2Come a little nearer, friend,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the stranger,\\nbeckoning.\\nNo,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered I. \u00e2\u0080\u009cIf I can do anything for you,\\nwithout too much trouble to myself, say so. But\\nrecollect, if you please, that you are not speaking to an\\nacquaintance, much less a friend\\nUpon my word, I believe not retorted he, looking\\nat me with some curiosity and, lifting his hat, he made\\nme a salute which had enough of sarcasm to be offens-\\nive, and just enough of doubtful courtesy to render any\\nresentment of it absurd. But I ask your pardon 1\\nrecognize a little mistake. If I may take the liberty to\\nsuppose it, you, sir, are probably one of the aesthetic\\nor shall I rather say ecstatic laborers, who have\\nplanted themselves hereabouts. This is your forest of\\nArden and you are either the banished Duke in person,\\nor one of the chief nobles in his train. The melancholy\\nJacques, perhaps? Be it so. In that case, you can\\nprobably do me a favor.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI never, in my life, felt less inclined to coniet a favor\\nan any man.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0439.jp2"}, "438": {"fulltext": "no\\nTIIE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nI am busy,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I.\\nSo unexpectedly had the stranger made m: sensible\\nof his presence, that he had almost the effect of .in ap-\\nparition; and certainly a less appropriate one (taking\\ninto view the dim woodland solitude about us) than it\\nthe salvage man of antiquity, hirsute and cinctured with\\nleafy girdle, had started out of a thicket. He was\\nstill young, seemingly a little under thirty, of a tall and\\nwell-developed figure, and as handsome a man as ever I\\nbeheld. The style of his beauty, however, though a\\nmasculine style, did not at all commend itself to my\\ntaste. His countenance I hardly know how to de-\\nscribe the peculiarity had an indecorum in it, a kind\\nof rudeness, a hard, coarse, forth-putting freedom of\\nexpression, which no degree of external polish could\\nhave abated one single jot. Not that it was vulgar.\\nBut he had no fineness of nature there was in his eyes\\n(although they might have artifice enough of another\\nsort) the naked exposure of something that ought not to\\nbe left prominent. With these vague allusions to what\\nI have seen in other faces, as well as his, I leave the\\nquality to be comprehended best because with an intu-\\nitive repugnance by those who possess least of it.\\nHis hair, as well as his beard and mustache, was\\ncoal-black his eyes, too, were black and sparkling, and\\nhis teeth remarkably brilliant. He was rather care-\\nlessly but well and fashionably dressed, in a summer-\\nmorning costume. There was a gold chain, exquisitely\\nwrought, across his vest. I never saw a smoother or\\nwhiter gloss than thr.t upon his shirt-bosom, which had\\na pin in it, set with a gem that glimmered, in the leafy\\nshadow where he stood, like a living tip of fire. He", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0440.jp2"}, "439": {"fulltext": "I HE WOOD -PATH.\\nIll\\ncarried a stick with a wooden head, carved in vivid im-\\nitation of that of a serpent. I hated him, partly, I do\\nbelieve, from a comparison of my own homely garb with\\nhis well-ordered foppishness.\\nWell, sir,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, a little ashamed of my first irrita-\\ntion, bat still with no waste of civility, be pleased to\\nspeak at once, as I have my own business in hand.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI regret that my mode of addressing you was a .ittle\\nunfortunate, said the stranger, smiling; for he seemed\\na very acute sort of person, and saw, in some degree,\\nhow I stood affected towards him. I intended no\\noffence, and shall certainly comport myself with due cer-\\nemony hereafter. I merely wish to make a few inquiries\\nrespecting a lady, formerly of my acquaintance, who is\\nnow resident in your Community, and, I believe, largely\\nconcerned in your social enterprise. You call her, I\\nthink, Zenobia.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThat is her name in literature,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed I; \u00e2\u0080\u009ca\\nname, too, which possibly she may permit her private\\nfriends to know and address her by, but not one which\\nthey feel at lib? rty to recognize when used of her, per-\\nsonally, by a stranger or casual acquaintance.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIndeed answered this disagreeable person and\\nhe turned aside his face for an instant with a brief laugh,\\nwhich struck me as a note-worthy expression of his\\ncharacter. Perhaps I might put forward a claim, on\\nyour own grounds, to call the lady by a name so appro\\npriate to her splendid qualities. But I am willing to\\nknow her by any cognomen that you may suggest.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHeartily wishing that he would be either a little more\\noffensive, or a good deal less so, or break off our inter-\\ncourse altogether, I mentioned Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s real name.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0441.jp2"}, "440": {"fulltext": "112\\nTIIE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nTrue,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he and, in general society, i have\\nnever heard her called otherwise. And, after all, our\\ndiscussion of the point has been gratuitous. My object\\nis only to inquire when, where and how, this lady may\\nmost conveniently be seen.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAt her present residence, of course,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I replied.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYou have but to go thither and ask for her. This\\nvery path will lead you within sight of the house so 1\\nwish you good-morning.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nOne moment, if you please,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the stranger.\\nThe course you indicate would certainly be the proper\\none, in an ordinary morning call. But my business is\\nprivate, personal, and somewhat peculiar. Now, in a\\ncommunity like this, I should judge that any little occur-\\nrence is likely to be discussed rather more minutely than\\nwould quite suit my views. I refer solely to myself,\\nyou understand, and without intimating that it w r ould\\nbe other than a matter of entire indifference to the lady.\\nIn short, I especially desire to see her in private. If her\\nhabits are such as I have known them, she is probably\\noften to be met with in the woods, or by the river-side\\nand I think you could do me the favor to point out some\\nfavorite walk where, about this hour, I might be fortu*\\nnate enough to gain an interview.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI reflected that it would be quite a supererogatory piece\\nof Quixotism in me to undertake the guardianship of Zeno\\nbia, who, for my pains, would only make me the butt of\\nendless ridicule, should the fact ever come to her knowl\\nedge. I therefore described a spot which, as often as\\nany other, was Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s resort at this period cf the\\nnor was it so remote from the farm-house as fc", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0442.jp2"}, "441": {"fulltext": "THE WOOD-FATF.\\n113\\nleave her in much peril, whatever might be the stranger 8\\ncharacter.\\nA single word more,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he and his black eyes\\nsparkled at me, whether with fun or malice I knew not,\\nbut certainly as if the devil were peeping out of them.\\nw Among your fraternity, I understand, there is a certain\\nholy and benevolent blacksmith a man of iron, in more\\nsenses than one; a rough, cross-grained, well-meaning\\nindividual, rather boorish in his manners, as might be\\nexpected, and by no means of the highest intellectual\\ncultivation. He is a philanthropical lecturer, with two\\nor three disciples, and a scheme of his own, the prelim-\\ninary step in which involves a large purchase of land, and\\nthe erection of a spacious edifice, at an expense consid-\\nerably beyond his means inasmuch as these are to be\\nreckoned in copper or old iron much more conveniently\\nthan in gold or silver. He hammers away upon his one\\ntopic as lustily as ever he did upon a horse-shoe Do\\nyou know such a person\\nI shook my head, and was turning away.\\nOur friend,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he continued, is described to me as a\\nbrawny, shaggy, grim and ill-favored personage, not par-\\nticularly w r ell calculated, one would say, to insinuate\\nhimself with the softer sex. Yet, so far has this honest\\nfellow succeeded with one lady whom we w r ot of, that he\\nanticipates, from her abundant resources, the necessary\\nfunds for realizing his plan in brick and mortar\\nHere the stranger seemed to be so much amused with\\nhis sketch of Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character and purposes,\\nthat he burst into a fit of merriment, of the same na-\\nture as the brief, metallic laugh, already alluded to.\\nbut imme nsely prolonged and enlarged. In the excess\\n8", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0443.jp2"}, "442": {"fulltext": "114\\nTHE BL1THEDALE ROMANCE.\\nof his delight, he opened his mouth wide, and disposed\\na gold band around the upper part of his teeth thereby\\nmaking it apparent that every one of his brilliant grind-\\ners and incisors was a sham. This discovery affected\\nme very oddly. I felt as if the whole man were a moral\\nand physical humbug his wonderful beauty of face, for\\naught I knew, might be removable like a mask and,\\ntall and comely as his figure looked, he was perhaps but\\na wizened little elf, gray and decrepit, with nothing gen-\\nuine about him, save the wicked expression of his grin.\\nThe fantasy of his spectral character so wrought upon\\nme, together with the contagion of his strange mirth on\\nmy sympathies, that I soon began to laugh as loudly as\\nhimself.\\nBy and by, he paused all at once; so suddenly,\\nindeed, that my own cachinnation lasted a moment\\nlonger.\\nAh, excuse me said he. Our interview seems to\\nproceed more merrily than it began.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt ends here,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered I. And I take shame to\\nmyself, that my folly has lost me the right of resenting\\nyour ridicule of a friend.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPray allow me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the stranger, approaching a step\\nnearer, and laying his gloved hand cn my sleeve. One\\nother favor I must ask of you. You have a young person,\\nhere at Blithedale, of whom I have heard, whom, per-\\nhaps, I have known, and in whom, at all events, I take a\\npeculiar interest. She is one of those delicate, nervous\\nyoung creatures, not uncommon in New England, and\\nwhom I suppose to have become what we find them by\\nhe gradual refining away of the physical system\\nunong your women. Some philosophers choose to gin", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0444.jp2"}, "443": {"fulltext": "THE WOOD-PATH.\\n115\\nrify this habit of body by terming 1 it spiritual but, in my\\nopinion, it is rather the effect of unwholesome food, bad\\nair, lack of out-door exercise, and neglect of bathing, on\\nthe part of these damsels and their female progenitors,\\nall resulting in a kind of hereditary dyspepsia. Zenobia,\\neven with .her uncomfortable surplus of vitality, is far\\nthe better model of womanhood. But to revert again\\nto this young person she goes among you by the name\\nof Priscilla. Could you possibly afford me the means of\\nspeaking with her\\nYou have made so many inquiries of me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I observed,\\n4 that I may at least trouble you with one. What is\\nyour name\\nHe offered me a card, with Professor Westervelt\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nengraved on it. At the same time, as if to vindicate his\\nclaim to the professorial dignity, so often assumed on\\nvery questionable grounds, he put or: a pair of spectacles,\\nwhich so altered the character of his face that I hardly\\nknew him again. But I liked the present aspect no\\nbetter than the former one.\\nI must decline any further connection with your\\naffairs,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, drawing back. I have told you where\\nto find Zenobia. As for Priscilla, she has closer friends\\nthan myself, through whom, if they see fit, yon can gain\\naccess to her.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cIn that case,\u00e2\u0080\u009d returned the Professor, ceremoniously\\nraising his hat, good-morning to you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHe took his departure, and was soon out of sight\\namong the windings of the wood-path. But after a\\nlittle reflection, I could not help regretting that I had so\\nperemptorily broken off the interview, while the stranger\\nseemed inclined to continue it. His evident kncwled^", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0445.jp2"}, "444": {"fulltext": "i 16\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nof matters affecting my three friends might have led to\\ndisclosures, or inferences, that would perhaps have been\\nserviceable. I was particularly struck with the fact that,\\never since the appearance of Priscilla, it had been the\\ntendency of events to suggest and establish a connection\\nbetween Zenobia and her. She had come,. in the first\\ninstance, as if with the sole purpose of claiming Zeno-\\nbia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s protection. Old Moodie\u00e2\u0080\u0099s visit, it appeared, was\\nchiefly to ascertain whether this object had been .accom-\\nplished. And here, to-day, was the questionable Pro-\\nfessor, linking one with the other in his inquiries, and\\nseeking communication with both.\\nMeanwhile, my inclination for a ramble having been\\nbalked, I lingered in the vicinity of the farm, with per-\\nhaps a vague idea that some new event would grow out\\nof Westervelt\u00e2\u0080\u0099s proposed interview with Zenobia. My\\nown part in these transactions was singularly subordi-\\nnate. It resembled that of the Chorus in a classic play,\\nwhich seems to be set aloof from the possibility of per-\\nsonal concernment, and bestows the whole measure of its\\nhope or fear, its exultation or sorrow, on the fortunes of\\nothers, between whom and itself this sympathy is the\\nonly bond. Destiny, it may be, the most skilful of\\nstage-managers, seldom chooses to arrange its scenes,\\nand carry forward its drama, without securing the pres-\\nence of at least one calm observer. It is his office to\\ngive applause when due, and sometimes an inevitable\\ntear, to detect the final fitness of incident to character\\nand distil in his long-brooding thought the whole moral\\nUy of the performance.\\nNot to be out of the way, in case there were need of\\nme in my vocation, and, at the same time, to ayoid", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0446.jp2"}, "445": {"fulltext": "THE WOOD-PAIII.\\nin\\nthrusting myself where neither destiny nor mortals\\nmight desire my presence, I remained pretty near the\\nverge of the woodlands. My position was off the track\\nnf Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s customary walk, yet not so remote but that\\na recognized occasion might speedily have brought m*\\nthither.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0447.jp2"}, "446": {"fulltext": "SI*.\\nCOVERDALE\u00e2\u0080\u0099S HERMITAGE.\\nLong since, in this part of our circumjacent wood, 1\\nhad found out for myself a little hermitage. It was a\\nkind of leafy cave, high upward into the air, among the\\nmidmost branches of a white-pine tree. A wild grape-\\nvine, of unusual size and luxuriance, had twined and\\ntwisted itself up into the tree, and, after wreathing the\\nentanglem nt of its tendrils almost around every bough,\\nhad caughi hold of three or four neighboring trees, and\\nmarried the whole clump with a perfectly inextricable\\nknot of polygamy. Once, while sheltering myself from\\na summer shower, the fancy had taken me to clamber up\\ninto this seemingly impervious mass of foliage. The\\nbranches yielded me a passage, and closed again beneath,\\nas if only a squirrel or a bird had passed. Far aloft,\\naround the stem of the central pine, behold a perfect nest\\nfor Robinson Crusoe or King Charles A hollow cham-\\nber of rare seclusion had been formed by the decay of\\nsome of the pine branches, which the vine had lovingly\\nstrangled with its embrace, burying them from the light\\nof day in an aerial sepulchre of its own leaves. It cost\\nme but little ingenuity to enlarge the interior, and open\\n.mop-holes through the verdant walls. Had it ever been\\nmy fortune to spend a honey-moon, I should have thought\\nseriously of inviting my bride up thither, vhe\u00e2\u0080\u0099\u00c2\u00b0 oui", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0448.jp2"}, "447": {"fulltext": "COVERDALE\u00e2\u0080\u0099S HERMITAGE.\\n119\\nnext neighbors would have been two orioles in another\\npart of the clump.\\nIt was an admirable place to make verses, tuning the\\nrhythm to the breezy symphony that so often stirred\\namong the vine-leaves or to meditate an essay for the\\nDial, in which the many tongues of Nature whispered\\nmysteries, and seemed to ask only a little stronger puff\\nof wind to speak out the solution of its riddle. Being so\\npervious to air-currents, it was just the nook, too, for the\\nenjoymeni of a cigar. This hermitage was my one\\nexclusive possession while I counted myself a brother of\\nthe socialists. It symbolized my individuality, and aided\\nme in keeping it inviolate. None ever found me out in\\nit, except, once, a squirrel. I brought thither no guest,\\nbecause, after Hollingsworth failed me, there was no\\nlonger the man alive with whom I could think of sharing\\nall. So there I used to sit, owl-like, yet not without lib-\\neral and hospitable thoughts. I counted the innumer-\\nable clusters of my vine, and fore-reckoned the abundance\\nof my vintage. It gladdened me to anticipate the sur-\\nprise of the Community, when, like an allegorical figure\\nof rich October, I should make my appearance, with\\nshoulders bent beneath the burthen of ripe grapes, and\\nsome of the crushed ones crimsoning my brow as with a\\nblood-stain.\\nAscending into this natural turret, I peeped in turn\\nout of several of its small windows. The pine-tree, being\\nancient, rose high above the rest of the wood, which was\\nof comparatively recent growth. Even where I sat,\\nabout midway between the root and the topmost bough\\nmy position was lofty enough to serve as an observatory,\\nnot for starr)\u00e2\u0080\u0099 investigations, but tor those sublunary", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0449.jp2"}, "448": {"fulltext": "120\\nTHE BLTTHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nmatters in which lay a lore as infinite as that of the\\nplanets. Through one loop-hole I saw the river lapsing\\ncalmly onward, while in the meadow, near its brink, a\\nfew of the brethren were digging peat for our winter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nluel. On the interior cart-road of our farm, I discerned\\nHollingsworth, with a yoke of oxen hitched to a drag of\\nstones, that were to be piled into a fence, on which we\\nemployed ourselves at the odd intervals of other labor.\\nThe harsh tones of his voice, shouting to the sluggish\\nsteers, made me sensible, even at such a distance, that\\nhe was ill at ease, and that the balked philanthropist\\nhad the battle-spirit in his heart.\\nHaw, Buck quoth he. Come along there, ye\\nizy ones What are ye about, now Gee\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cMankind, in Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s opinion,\u00e2\u0080\u009d thought 1,\\nis but another yoke of oxen, as stubborn, stupid, and\\nsluggish, as our old Brown and Bright. He vituperates\\nus aloud, and curses us in his heart, and will begin to\\nprick us with the goad-stick, by and by. But are we\\nhis oxen? And what right has he to be the driver?\\nAnd why, when there is enough else to do, should we\\nwaste our strength in dragging home the ponderous load\\nof his philanthropic absurdities? At my height above\\nthe earth, the whole matter looks ridiculous\\nTurning towards the farm-house, I saw Priscilla (for,\\nthough a great way off, the eye of faith assured me that\\n:*rt was she) sitting at Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s window, and making\\nlittle purses, I suppose or, perhaps, mending the Com-\\nmunity\u00e2\u0080\u0099s old linen. A bird flew past my tree and, as it\\nclove its way onward into the sunny atmosphere, I flung\\n*t a message for Priscilla.\\nTed htr,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I that her fragile thread of life has", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0450.jp2"}, "449": {"fulltext": "coverdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hermitage\\n121\\nmext/.cably knotted itself with other and tougher threads,\\nfind most likely it will be broken. Tell her that Zeno-\\nDia will not be long her friend. Say that Hollings-\\nworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart is on fire with his own purpose, but icy\\nfor ah human affection and that, if she has given him\\nher love, it is like casting a flower into a sepulchre.\\nAnd say that if any mortal really cares for her, it is\\nmyself and not even I, for her realities, poor little\\nseamstress, as Zenobia rightly called her but for the\\nfancy-work with which I have idly decked her out\\nThe pleasant scent of the wood, evolved by the hot\\nsun, stole up to my nostrils, as if I had been an idol in\\nits niche. Many trees mingled their fragrance into a\\nthousand-fold odor. Possibly there was a sensual influ-\\nence in the broad light of noon that lay beneath me. It\\nmay have been the cause, in part, that I suddenly found\\nmyself possessed by a mood of disbelief in moral beauty\\nor heroism, and a conviction of the folly of attempting to\\nbenefit the world. Our especial scheme of reform, which,\\nfrom my observatory, I could take in with the bodily eye,\\nlooked so ridiculous that it was impossible not to laugh\\naloud.\\nBut the joke is a little too heavy,\u00e2\u0080\u009d thought I. If\\ni were wise, I should get out of the scrape with all d ili-\\ngence, and then laugh at my companion?* for remaining\\nin it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhi/ thus musing, I heard, with perfect distinctness,\\nsomewhere in the wood beneath, the peculiar laugh\\nwhich I have described as one of the disagieeable char-\\nacteristics of Professor Westervelt. _ It brought my\\nthoughts back to our recent interview. I recognized as\\nchiefly due to this man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s influence the sceptical and", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0451.jp2"}, "450": {"fulltext": "122\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE\\nsneering view which, just now, had filled my mental\\nvision, in regard to all life\u00e2\u0080\u0099s better purposes. And it\\nwas through his eyes, more than my own, that I was\\nlooking at Hollingsworth, with his glorious, if impracti-\\ncable dream, and at the noble earthliness of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\ncharacter, and even at Priscilla, whose impalpable\\ngrace lay so singularly between disease and beauty.\\nThe essential charm of each had vanished. There are\\nsome spheres the contact with which inevitably degrades\\nthe high, debases the pure, deforms the beautiful. It\\nmust be a mind of uncommon strength, and little impres-\\nsibility, that can permit itself the habit of such inter-\\ncourse, and not be permanently deteriorated; and yet\\nihe Professor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s tone represented that of worldly society\\nat large, where a cold scepticism smothers what it can\\nof our spiritual aspirations, and makes the rest ridicu-\\nlous. I detested this kind of man and all the more\\nbecause a part of my own nature showed itself respons-\\nive to him.\\nVoices were now approaching through the region of\\nthe wood which lay in the vicinity of my tree. Soon I\\ncaught glimpses of two figures a woman and a man\\nZenobia and the stranger earnestly talking together\\nas they advanced.\\nZenobia had a rich, though varying color. It was,\\nmost of the while, a flame, and anon a sudden paleness.\\nHer eyes glowed, so that their light sometimes flashed\\nupward to me, as when the sun throws a dazzle from\\nsome bright object on the ground. Her gestures were\\nfree, and strikingly impressive. The whole woman was\\nalive with a passionate intensity, which I now percsived\\nto be the phase in which her beauty culminated. Any", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0452.jp2"}, "451": {"fulltext": "coverdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hermitage.\\nin\\npassion would nave become her well and passionate\\nlove, perhaps, the best of all. This was not love, but\\nanger, largely intermixed with scorn. Yet the idea\\nstrangely forced itself upon me, that there was a sort of\\nfamiliarity between these two companions, necessarily\\nthe result of an intimate love, on Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s part, at\\nleast, in days gone by, but which had prolonged itself\\ninto as intimate a hatred, for all futurity. As they\\npassed among the trees, reckless as her movement was,\\nshe took good heed that even the hem of her garment\\nshould not brush against the stranger\u00e2\u0080\u0099s person. I won-\\ndered whether there had always been a chasm, guarded\\nso religiously, betwixt these two.\\nAs for Westervelt, he was not a whit more warmed\\nby Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s passion than a salamander by the heat of\\nits native* furnace. He would have been absolutely\\nstatuesque, save for a look of slight perplexity, tinctured\\nstiongly with derision. It was a crisis in which his intel-\\nlectual perceptions could not altogether help him out.\\nHe failed to comprehend, and cared but little for com-\\nprehending, why Zenobia should put herself into such a\\nfume but satisfied his mind that it was all folly, and\\nonly another shape of a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s manifold absurdity,\\nwhich men can never understand. How many a\\nwoman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s evil fate has yoked her with a man like this\\nNature thrusts some of us into the world miserably\\nincomplete on the emotional side, with hardly any sen-\\nsibilities except what pertain to us as animals. No pas-\\nsion, save of the senses; no holy tenderness, nor the\\ndelicacy that results from this. Externally they bear a\\nclose resemblance to other men, and have perhaps all\\nnave the finest grace but when a won\\\\en wrecks her*", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0453.jp2"}, "452": {"fulltext": "121\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE\\nself on such a being, she ultimately finds that the rea*\\nwomanhood within her has no corresponding part in\\nhim. Her deepest voice lacks a response the deeper\\nher cry, the more dead his silence. The fault may be\\nnone of his he cannot give her what never lived within\\nhis soul. But the wretchedness on her side, and the\\nmoral deterioration attendant on a false and shallow\\nlife, without strength enough to keep itself sweet, are\\namong the most pitiable wrongs that mortals suffer.\\nNow, as I looked down from my upper region at this\\nman and woman, outwardly so fair a sight, and wan\\ndering like two lovers in the wood, I imagined that\\nZenobia, at an earlier period of youth, might have fallen\\ninto the misfortune above indicated. And when her\\npassionate womanhood, as was inevitable, had discov-\\nered its mistake, there had ensued the character of\\neccentricity and defiance which distinguished the more\\npublic portion of her life.\\nSeeing how aptly matters had chanced thus far, I\\nbegan to think it the design of late to let me into all\\nZenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s secrets, and that therefore the couple would\\nsit down beneath my tree, and carry on a conversation\\nwhich would leave me nothing to inquire. No doubt,\\nhowever, had it so happened, I should have deemed\\nmyself honorably bound to warn them of a listener\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\npresence, by flinging down a handful of unripe grapes, or\\nby sending an unearthly groan out i f my hiding-place,\\nas if this were one of the trees of Dante\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ghostly forest.\\nBut real life never arranges itself exactly like a romance.\\nIn the first place, they did not sit down at all. Secondly\\neven while they passed beneath the tree, Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s utter-\\nance was so hasty and broken, and Westervelt\u00e2\u0080\u0099s so cool", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0454.jp2"}, "453": {"fulltext": "COVER DALE\u00e2\u0080\u0099S HERMITAGE.\\n125\\nAnd low, that I hardly could make out an intelligible\\nsentence, c n either side. What I seem to remember, 1\\nyof suspect, may have been patched together by my\\nfancy, in brooding over the matter, afterwards.\\nWhy not fling the girl off,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Westervelt, and\\nlet her go\\nShe clung to me from the first,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied Zenobia,\\nI neither know nor care what it is in me that so\\nattaches her. But she loves me, and I will not fail\\nher.\u00e2\u0080\u0099*\\nShe will plague you, then,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, in more ways\\nthan one.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe poor child exclaimed Zenobia. She can\\ndo me neither good nor harm. How should she\\nI know not what reply Westervelt whispered; nor did\\nZenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s subsequent exclamation give me any clue,\\nexcept that it evidently inspired her with horror and\\ndisgust.\\nWith what kind of a being am I linked cried she.\\nt; If my Creator cares aught for my soul, let him release\\nme from this miserable bond\\nI did not think it weighed so heavily,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said her\\ncompanion.\\nNevertheless,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Zenobia, it will stranglo\\nme, at last\\nAnd then I heard her utter a helpless sort of moan\\na sound which, struggling out of the heart of a person\\nof her pride and strength, affected me more than if she\\nhad made the wood dolorousl p vocal with a thousand\\nshrieks and wails.\\nOther mysterious words, besides what are above\\nwritten, they spoke together; but I understood no more", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0455.jp2"}, "454": {"fulltext": "126 THE BLITHFEALE ROMANCE.\\nand even question whether I fairly understood so NiUch\\nas this. By long brooding over our recollections, we\\nsubtilize them into something akin to imaginary stuff,\\nand hardly capable of being distinguished from it. In a\\nfew moments, they were completely beyond ear-shot. A\\nbreeze stirred after them, and awoke the leafy tongue3\\nof the surrounding trees, which forthwith began to\\nbabble, as if innumerable gossips had all at once got\\nwind of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s secret. But, as the breeze grew\\nstronger, its voice among the branches was as if it said\\nHush Hush and I resolved that to no mortal\\nwould I disclose what I had heard. And, though there\\nmight be room for casuistry, sveh, I conceive, is the\\nmost equitable rule in all similar conjunctures", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0456.jp2"}, "455": {"fulltext": "XIII.\\nZENCBIA\u00e2\u0080\u0099S LEGEND.\\nThe illustrious Society of Blithedale, though it toiled\\nin downright earnest for the good of mankind, yet not\\nunfrequently illuminated its laborious life with an after-\\nnoon or evening of pastime. Picnics under the trees\\nwere considerably in vogue and, within doors, frag-\\nmentary bits of theatrical performance, such as single\\nacts of tragedy or comedy, or dramatic proverbs and\\ncharades. Zenobia, besides, was fond of giving us read-\\nings from Shakspeare, and often with a depth of tragic\\npower, or breadth of comic effect, that made one feel it\\nan intolerable wrong to the world that she did not at\\nonce go upon the stage. Tableaux vivants were another\\nof our occasional modes of amusement, in which scarlet\\nshawls, old silken robes, ruffs, velvets, furs, and all kinds\\nof miscellaneous trumpery, converted our familiar com-\\npanions into the people of a pictorial world. We had\\nbeen thus engaged on the evening after the incident\\nnarrated in the last chapter. Several splendid works\\n0 f ar t either arranged after engravings from the old\\nmasters, or original illustrations of scenes in history or\\nromance had been presented, and we were earnestly\\nentreating Zenobia for more.\\nShe stood, with a meditative air, holding a large\\npiece of gauze, or some such ethereal stuff, as if consid-\\nering what picture should n^xt occupy the frame while", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0457.jp2"}, "456": {"fulltext": "128\\nTHE BMTHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nat her feet lay a heap of many-colored garments, which\\nher quick fancy and magic skill could so easily convert\\ninto gorgeous draperies for heroes and princesses.\\nI am getting weary of this,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, after a\\nmoment\u00e2\u0080\u0099s thought. \u00e2\u0080\u009cOur own features, and our own\\nfigures and airs, show a little too intrusively through all\\nthe characters we assume. We have so much famil-\\niarity with one another\u00e2\u0080\u0099s realities, that we cannot remove\\nourselves, at pleasure, into an imaginary sphere. Let\\nus have no more pictures to-night but, to make you\\nwhat poor amends I can, how would you like to have\\nme trump up a wild, spectral legend, ,on the spur of the\\nmoment\\nZenobia had the gift of telling a fanciful little story,\\noff-hand, in a way that made it greatly more effective\\nthan it was usually found to be when she afterwards\\nelaborated the same production with her pen. Her pro-\\nposal, therefore, was greeted with acclamation.\\n0, a story, a story, by all means cried the young\\ngirls. No matter how marvellous we will believe it,\\nevery word. And let it be a ghost-story, if you please.\u00e2\u0080\u0099\\nNo, not exactly a ghost-story,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Zenobia\\nbut something so nearly like it that you shall hardly\\ntell the difference. And, Priscilla, stand you before me,\\nwhere I may look at you, and get my inspiration out of\\nyour eyes. They are very deep and dreamy to-night.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI know not whether the following version of her stoiy\\nwill retain any portion of its pristine character but, as\\nZenobia told it wildly and rapidly, hesitating at no\\nextravagance, ana dashing at absurdities which I am\\ntoo timorous to repeat, giving it the varied empnasis\\nof her inimitable voice, an\u00e2\u0080\u0099 the pictorial i Lustration of", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0458.jp2"}, "457": {"fulltext": "3E7 JBIA S LEGEND.\\n129\\nhei mobile face, wnile through it all we caught the\\nfreshest aroma of the thoughts, as they came bubbling\\nout of her mind, thus narrated, and thus heard, the\\negend seemed quite a remarkable affair. I scarcely\\nknew, at the time, whether she intended us to laugh or\\noe more seriously impressed. From beginning to end,\\nit was undeniable nonsense, but not necessarily the\\nworse for that.\\nTHE SILVERY VEIL.\\nYou have heard, my dear friends, of the Vedeu\\nLady, who grew suddenly so very famous, a few months\\nago. And have you never thought how remarkable it\\nwas that this marvellous creature should vanish, all at\\nonce, while her renown was on the increase, before the\\npublic had grown weary of her, and when the enigma\\nof her character, instead of being solved, presented itself\\nmore mystically at every exhibition Her last appear-\\nance, as you know, was before a crowded audience.\\nThe next evening, although the bills had announced\\nher, at the comer of every street, in red letters of a\\ngigantic size, there was no Veiled Lady to be seen\\nNow, listen to my simple little tale, and you shall hear\\nthe very latest incident in the known life (if life it may\\nbe called, which seemed to have no more reality than\\nthe candle-light image of one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s self which peeps at us\\noutside of a dark window-pane) the life of this shadowy\\nphenomenon.\\nA party of young gentlemen, you are to understand,\\nwere enjoying themselves, one afternoon, as young", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0459.jp2"}, "458": {"fulltext": "1JU\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\ngentlemen are sometimes fond cf doing, ovei a bottle\\nor two of champagne and, among other ladies less mys-\\nteriois, the subject of the Veiled Lady, as was very\\nnatural, happened to come up before them for discussion.\\nShe rose, as it were, with the sparkling effervescence of\\ntheir wine, and appeared in a more airy and fantastic\\nlight on account of the medium through which they\\nsaw her. They repeated to one another, between jest\\nand earnest, all the wild stories that were in vogue nor,\\nI presume, did they hesitate to add any small circum-\\nstance that the inventive whim of the moment might\\nsuggest, to heighten the marvellousness of their theme.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009c\u00e2\u0096\u00a0But what an audacious report was that,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed\\none, \u00e2\u0080\u009cwhich pretended to assert the identity of this\\nstrange creature with a young lady,\u00e2\u0080\u009d and here he\\nmentioned her name, the daughter of one of our\\nmost distinguished families\\nAh, there is more in that story than can well be\\naccounted for,\u00e2\u0080\u009d remarked another. I have it, on good\\nauthority, that the young lady in question is invariably\\nout of sight, and not to be traced, even by her own\\nfamily, at the hours when the Veiled Lady is before the\\npublic nor can any satisfactory explanation be given of\\ntier disappearance. And just look at the thing Her\\nbrother is a young fellow of spirit. He cannot but be\\naware of these rumors in reference to his sister. Why,\\nthen, does he not come forward to defend her character,\\nunless he is conscious that an investigation would only\\nmake the matter worse\\nIt is essential to the purposes of my legend to diitin-\\nguish one of these young gentlemen from his com\\npaniens; so, for the sake of a soft and pretty name", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0460.jp2"}, "459": {"fulltext": "ENOBIA \u00c2\u00a35 LEGENE\\n131\\nauch as we 01 the literary sisterhood invariably bestow\\nupon our heroes). I deem it fit to call him Theodore.\\nPshaw exclaimed Theodore her brother is no\\nsuch fool Nobody, unless his brim be as full of bub-\\nbles as this wine, can seriously think of crediting that\\nridiculous rumor. Why, if my senses did not play me\\nfalse (which never was the case yet), I affirm that I saw\\nthat very lady, last evening, at the exhibition, while this\\nveiled phenomenon was playing off her juggling tricks l\\nWhat can you say to that\\nO, it was a spectral illusion that you saw,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied\\nfas friends, with a general laugh. The Veiled Lady is\\nquite up to such a thing.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHowever, as the above-mentioned fable could not hold\\nits ground against Theodore\u00e2\u0080\u0099s downright refutation,\\nthey went on to speak of other stories which the wild\\nbabble of the town had set afloat. Some upheld that\\nthe veil covered the most beautiful countenance in the\\nworld others, and certainly with more reason, con-\\nsidering the sex of the Veiled Lady, that the face was\\nthe most hideous and horrible, and that this was her\\nsole motive for hiding it. It was the face of a corpse it\\nwas the head of a skeleton it was a monstrous visage,\\nwith snaky locks, like Medusa\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, and one great red eye\\nin the centre of the forehead. Again, it was affirmed\\nthat there was no single and unchangeable set of\\nfeatures beneath the veil but that whosoever should be\\nbold enough to lift it would behold the features of that\\nDerson, in all the world, who was destined to be his\\nfate perhaps he would be greeted by the tender smile\\nof the woman whom he Lved, or, quite as probably the\\ndeadly scowl of his bitterest enemy would thrnv a blight", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0461.jp2"}, "460": {"fulltext": "1 32\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE\\nover his life. They quoted, moreover, thu startling\\nexplanation of the whole affair that the magician who\\nexhibited the Veiled Lady and who, by the by, was the\\nhandsomest man in the whole world had bartered his\\nown soul for seven years\u00e2\u0080\u0099 possession of a familiar fiend,\\nand that the last year of the contract was wearing\\ntowards its close.\\nIf it were worth our while, I could keep you till an\\nhour beyond midnight listening to a thousand such\\nabsurdities as these. But finally our friend Theodore,\\nwho prided himself upon his common sense, found the\\nmatter getting quite beyond his patience.\\nI offer any wager you like,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried he, setting down\\nhis glass so forcibly as to break the stem of it, that this\\nvery evening I find out the mystery of the Veiled Lady\\nYoung men, I am told, boggle at nothing, over their\\nwine so, after a little more talk, a wager of consider-\\nable amount was actually laid, the money staked, and\\nTheodore left to choose his own method of settling the\\ndispute.\\nHow he managed it I know not, nor is it of any\\ngreat importance to this veracious legend. The most\\nnatural way, to be sure, was by bribing the door-keeper,\\nor possibly he preferred clambering in at the win-\\ndow. But, at any rate, that very evening, while the\\nexhibition was going forward in the hall, Theodore con-\\ntrived to gain admittance into the private withdrawing-\\nroom whither the Veiled Lady was accustomed to retire\\nat the close of her performances. There he waited\\nlistening, I suppose, to the stifled hum of the great audi\\nence and no doubt he could distinguish the deep tones\\nof the magician, causing the wonders that he wrought", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0462.jp2"}, "461": {"fulltext": "zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s legend.\\n133\\nto appear lkas dark and intricate, by his mystic pretence\\n**f an explanation. Perhaps, too, in the intervals of the\\nwild, breezy music which accompanied the exhibition,\\nhe might hear the low voice of the Veiled Lady, convey-\\ning her sibylline responses. Firm as Theodore\u00e2\u0080\u0099s nerves\\nmight be, and much as he prided himself on his sturdy\\nperception of realities, I should not be surprised if his\\nheart throbbed at a little more than its ordinary rate.\\nTheodore concealed himself behind a screen. In due\\ntime, the performance was brought to a close, and,\\nwhether the door was softly opened, or whether her\\nbodiless presence came through the wall, is more than I\\ncan say, but, all at once, without the young man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nlmowing how it happened, a veiled figure stood in the\\ncentre of the room. It was one thing to be in presence\\ncf this mystery in the hall of exhibition, where the\\nwarm, dense life of hundreds of other mortals kept up\\nthe beholder\u00e2\u0080\u0099s courage, and distributed her influence\\namong so many it was another thing to be quite alone\\nwith her, and that, too, with a hostile, or, at least, an\\nunauthorized and unjustifiable purpose. I rather imagine\\nthat Theodore now began to be sensible of something\\nmore serious in his enterprise than he had been quite\\naware of, while he sat with his boon-companions over\\ntheir sparkling wine.\\nVery strange, it must be confessed, was the move /lent\\nwith which the figure floated to and fro over the carpet,\\nwith the silvery veil covering her from head to foot so\\nimpalpable, so ethereal, so without substance, as the\\ntexture seemed, yet hiding her every outline in an im-\\npenetrability like that of midnight. Surely, she did not\\nwalk She floated, and flitted, and hovered about the", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0463.jp2"}, "462": {"fulltext": "134\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\n~oom no sound of a footstep, no perceptible motion\\nof a limb it was as if a wandering breeze wafted\\nher before it, at its own wild and gentle pleasure. But\\nby and by, a purpose began to be discernible, throughout\\nthe seeming vagueness of her unrest. She was in\\nquest of something. Could it be that a subtile pre en\\ntiment had informed her of the young man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s presence\\nAnd if so, did the Veiled Lady seek or did she shun\\nhim? The doubt in Theodore\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mind was speedily\\nresolved; for, after a moment or two of these erratic\\nflutterings, she advanced more decidedly, and stood\\nmotionless before the screen.\\nThou art here said a soft, low voice. Come\\nforth, Theodore\\nThus summoned by his name, Theodore, as a man of\\ncourage, had no choice. He emerged from his conceal-\\nment, and presented himself before the Veiled Lady,\\nwith the wine-flush, it may be, quite gone out of his\\ncheeks.\\nWhat wouldst thou with me?\u00e2\u0080\u009d she inquired, with\\nthe same gentle composure that was in her former\\nutterance.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cMysterious creature,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied Theodore, \u00e2\u0080\u009cI would\\nknow who and what you are\\nMy lips are forbidden to betray the secret,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the\\nVeiled Lady.\\nAt whatever risk, I must discover it,\u00e2\u0080\u009d rejoined\\nTheodore.\\nThen,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the Mystery, there is no way, save to\\nJft my veil.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd Theodore, partly recovering his audacity, stept\\nforward on the instant, to do as the Veiled Lady haa", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0464.jp2"}, "463": {"fulltext": "ZfiNOBIA\u00e2\u0080\u0099S LEGEND.\\n135\\nsuggested But she floated backward to the opposite\\nside of the room, as if the young man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s breath had pos-\\nsessed power enough to waft her away.\\nPause, one little instant,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the soft, low voice,\\nand learn the conditions of what thou art so bold to\\nundertake Thou canst go hence, and think of me no\\nmore or, at thy option, thou canst lift this mysterious\\nveil, beneath which I am a sad and lonely prisoner, in a\\nbondage which is worse to me than death. But, before\\nraising it, I entreat thee, in all maiden modesty, to bend\\nforward and impress a kiss where my breath stirs\\nthe veil and my virgin lips shall come forward to meet\\nthy lips and from that instant, Theodore, thou shalt be\\nmine, and I thine, with never more a veil between us.\\nAnd all the felicity of earth and of the future world shall\\nbe thine and mine together. So much may a maiden\\nsay behind the veil. If thou shrinkest from this, there\\nis yet another way.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd what is that asked Theodore.\\nDost thou hesitate,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the Veiled Lady, to\\npledge thyself to me, by meeting these lips of mine,\\nwhile the veil t hides my face Has not thy heart\\nrecognized me 2 Dost thou come hither, not in holy\\nfaith, nor with a pure and generous purpose, but in\\nscornful scepticism and idle curiosity? Still, thou\\nmayest lift the veil But, from that instant, Theodore.\\nI am doomed to be thy evil fate; nor wilt thou ever\\ntaste another breath of happiness\\nThere was a shade of inexpressible sadness in the\\nutterance of these last words. But Theodore, whose\\nnatural tendency was towards scepticism, felt himself\\nalmost injured and insulted bj the Veiled Lidy\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pro*", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0465.jp2"}, "464": {"fulltext": "136\\nTHE BLITHEDALE R( MANCE.\\nposal that he should pledge himself, for life and eternity,\\nto so questionable a creature as herself or even that she\\nshould suggest an inconsequential kiss, taking into /lew\\nthe probability that her face was non. =5 of the most\\nbewitching. A delightful idea, truly, that he should\\nsarnte the lips of a dead girl, or the jaws of a skeleton,\\nor the grinning cavity of a monster\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mouth Even\\nshould she prove a comely maiden enough in other re-\\nspects, the odds were ten to one that her teeth were defect-\\nive a terrible drawback on the delectableness of a kiss.\\nExcuse me, fair lady,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Theodore, and I\\nthink he nearly burst into a laugh, if I prefr r to lift\\nthe veil first; and for this affair of the kiss, ve may\\ndecide upon it afterwards.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThou hast made thy choice,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the sv eet, sad\\nvoice behind the veil and there seemed a tender but\\nunresentful sense of wrong done to womanhood by the\\nyoung man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s contemptuous interpretation of h\u00c2\u00ab offer.\\nI must not counsel thee to pause, although thy f- is\\nstill in thine own hand\\nGrasping at the veil, he flung it upward, and caugV i\\nglimpse of a pale, lovely face beneath just one momorv 1\\nary glimpse, and then the apparition vanished, and thr\\nsilvery veil fluttered slowly down and lay upon the\\nfloor. Theodore was alone. Our legend leaves him\\nthere. His retribution was, to pine for ever and ever\\nfor another sight, of that dill., mournful face, which\\nmight have been his life-long household fireside joy,\\nto desire, and waste life in a feverish quest, and never\\nmeet it more.\\nBut what, in good sooth, had become td th* Veiled\\nT \u00c2\u00abidy Ha 1 all her existence been comprehended with", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0466.jp2"}, "465": {"fulltext": "ZEN0B1AS LEGEND.\\n137\\nin that mysterious veil, and was she now annihilated\\nOr was she a spirit, with a heavenly essence., but which\\nmight have been tamed down to human bliss, had Theo-\\ndore been brave and true enough to claim her Hearken,\\nmy sweet friends, and hearken, dear Priscilla, and\\nyou shall learn the little more that Zenobia can tell you.\\nJust at the moment, so far as can be ascertained,\\nwhen the Veiled Lady vanished, a maiden, pale and\\nshadowy, rose up amid a knot of visionary people, who\\nwere seeking for the better life. She was sc gentle and\\nso sad, a nameless melancholy gave her such hold\\nupon their sympathies, that they never thought of\\nquestioning whence she came. She might have here-\\ntofore existed, or her thin substance might have been\\nmoulded out of air at the very instant when they first\\nbeheld her. It was all one to them they took her to\\ntheir hearts. Among them was a lady, to whom, more\\nthan to all the rest, this pale, mysterious girl attached\\nherself.\\nBut one morning the lady was wandering in the\\nwoods, and there met her a figure in an oriental robe,\\nwith a dark beard, and holding in his hand a silvery\\nveil. He motioned her to stay. Being a woman of\\nsome nerve, she did not shriek, nor run away, nor faint,\\nas many ladies would have been apt to do, but stood\\nquietly, and bade him speak. The truth was, she had\\nseen his face before, but had never feared it, d though\\nshe knew him to be a terrible magician.\\nLady,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, with a warning gesture, you are in\\nperil\\nPeril she exclaimed. Ar d of what nature\\nThere 1 3 a certain maiden,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied the magiciun,", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0467.jp2"}, "466": {"fulltext": "138\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nwho lias come out of the realm of mystery, and made\\nherself your most intimate companion. Now, the fates\\nhave so ordained it^that, whether by her own will or no\\nthis stranger is your deadliest enemy. In love, in\\nworldly fortune, in all your pursuit of happiness, sho is\\ndoomed to fling a blight over your prospects. There\\nis but one possibility of thwarting her disastrous in-\\nfluence.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThen tell me that one method,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the lady.\\nTake this veil,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he answered, holding forth the sil-\\nvery texture. It is a spell it is a powerful enchant-\\nment, which I wrought for her sake, and beneath which\\nshe was once my prisoner. Throw it, at unawares, over\\nthe head of this secret foe, stamp your foot, and cry,\\nArise, Magician, here is the Veiled Lady and imme-\\ndiately I will rise up through the earth, and seize her\\nand from that moment you are safe\\nSo the lady took the silvery veil, which was like\\nwoven air, or like some substance airier than nothing,\\nand that would float upward and be lost among the\\nclouds, were she once to let it go. Eetuming home-\\nward, she found the shadowy girl, amid the knot of\\nvisionary transcendentalists, who were still seeking for\\nthe better life. She was joyous now, and had a rose-\\nbloom in her cheeks, and was one of the prettiest crea-\\ntures, and seemed one of the happiest, that the world\\ncould show. But the lady stole noiselessly behind her\\nand threw the veil over her head. As the slight, ethe-\\nreal texture sank inevitably down over her figure, the\\npoor gir strove to raise it, and met her dear friend\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\neyes with one glance of mortal terror, and deep, deep\\nreproach li could not change her purpose.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0468.jp2"}, "467": {"fulltext": "zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s legend.\\n139\\nArisj, Magician she exclaimed, stamping hea foot\\nupon the earth. Here is the Veiled Lady\\nAt the word, uprose the bearded man in the oriental\\nrobes, the beautiful, the dirk magician, who had\\nbartered away his soul He threw his arms around\\nthe Veiled Lady, and she was his bond-slave forever-\\nmore\\nZenobia, all this while, had been holding the piece ot\\ngauze, and so managed it as greatly to increase the\\ndramatic effect of the legend at those points where the\\nmagic veil was to be described. Arriving at the catas-\\ntrophe, and uttering the fatal words, she flung the gauze\\nover Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s head and for an instant her auditors\\nheld their breath, half expecting, I verily believe, that\\nthe magician would start up through the floor, and cany\\noff our poor little friend, before our eyes.\\nAs for Priscilla, she stood droopingly in the midst of\\nus, making no attempt to remove the veil.\\nHow do you find yourself, my love said Zenobia,\\nlifting a comer of the gauze, and peeping beneath it,\\nwith a mischievous smile. Ah, the dear little soul\\nWhy, she is really going to faint Mr. Coverdale, Mr.\\nCoverdale, pray bring a glass of water\\nHer nerves being none of the strongest, Priscilla\\nhardly recovered her eouanimity during the rest of the\\nevening. This, to be sure, was a great pi tv but,\\nnevertheless, we thought it a very bright idea of Zeno-\\nbia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s to bring her legend to so effective a conclusion.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0469.jp2"}, "468": {"fulltext": "XIV.\\nELIOT\u00e2\u0080\u0099S PULPIT.\\nOur Sundays, at Blithedale, were not ordinarily kept\\nwith such rigid observance as might have befitted the\\ndescendants of the Pilgrims, whose high enterprise, as we\\nsometimes flattered ourselves, we had taken up, and were\\ncarrying it onward and aloft, to a point which they never\\ndreamed of attaining.\\nOn that hallowed day, it is true, we rested from our\\nlabors. Our oxen, relieved from their week-day yoke,\\nroamed at large through the pasture each yoke-fellow,\\nhowever, keeping close beside his mate, and continuing\\nto acknowledge, from the force of habit and sluggish\\nsympathy, the union which the taskmaster had imposed\\nfor his own hard ends. As for us human yoke-fellows,\\nchosen companions of toil, whose hoes had clinked\\ntogether throughout the week, we wandered off, in vari-\\nous directions, to enjoy our interval of repose. Some, I\\nbelieve, went devoutly to the village church. Others, it\\nmay be, ascended a city or a country pulpit, wearing the\\nclerical robe with so much dignity that you would\\nscarcely have suspected the yeoman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s frock to have been\\nflung off only since milking-time. Others took long\\nrambles among the rustic lanes and by-paths, pausing to\\nlook at black old farm-houses, with their sloping roofs\\nand at the modem cottage, so like a plaything that it\\nseemed as if ml joy or sorrow could have no scope", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0470.jp2"}, "469": {"fulltext": "E^iOT\u00e2\u0080\u0099S PULPIT.\\n141\\nwithin and at the more pretending villa, with its range\\nof wooden columns, supporting the needless insolence of\\na great, portico. Some betook themselves into the wide,\\ndusky barn, and lay there for hours together on the\\nodorous hay; while the sunstreaks and the shadows\\nstrove together, these to make the bam solemn, those\\nto make it cheerful, ar 1 both were conquerors; and\\nthe swallows twittered a cheery anthem, flashing into\\nsight, or vanishing, as they darted to and fro among the\\ngolden mles of sunshine. And others went a little way\\ninto the woods, and threw themselves on mother earth,\\npillowing their heads on a heap of moss, the green decay\\nof an old log; and, dropping asleep, the humble-bees\\nand mosquitoes sung and buzzed about their ears, caus-\\ning the slumberers to twitch and start, without awak-\\nening.\\nWith Hollingsworth, Zenobia, Priscilla and myself, it\\ngrew to be a custom to spend the Sabbath afternoon at a\\ncertain rock. It was known to us under the name of\\nEl lot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit, from a tradition that the venerable Apostle\\nEliot had preached there, two centuries gone by, to an\\nIndian auditory. The old pine forest, through which the\\napostle\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice was wont to sound, had fallen, an imme-\\nmorial time ago. But the soil, being of the rudest and\\nmost broken surface, had apparently never been brought\\nunder tillage; other growths, maple, and beech, and\\nbirch, had succeeded to the primeval trees so that it\\n\\\\vas still as wild a tract of woodland as the great-great-\\ngreat-great-grandson of one of Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s Indians (had any\\nsuch posterity been in existence) could have desired,\\nfor the site and shelter of his wigwam. These after\\ngrowths, indeed, lose the stately solemnity of the original", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0471.jp2"}, "470": {"fulltext": "142\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nforest. If left in due neglect, however, they run into an\\nentanglement of softer wildness, among the rustling\\nleaves of which the sun can scatter cneerfulness as it\\nnever could among the dark-browed pines.\\nThe rock itself rose some twenty or thirty feet, a shat-\\ntered granite boulder, or heap of boulders, with an irreg-\\nular outline and many fissures, out of which sprang\\nshrubs, bushes, and even trees as if the scanty soil\\nwithin those crevices were sweeter to their roots than\\nany other earth. At the base of the pulpit, the broken\\nboulders inclined towards each other, so as to form a\\nshallow cave, within which our little party had some-\\ntimes found protection from a summer shower. On the\\nthreshold, or just across it, grew a tuft of pale colum-\\nbines, in their season, and violets, sad and shadowy\\nrecluses, such as Priscilla was when we first knew her\\nchildren of the sun, who had never seen their father, but\\ndwelt among damp mosses, though not akin to them.\\nAt the summit, the rock was overshadowed by the can-\\nopy of a birch-tree, which served as a sounding-board\\nfor the pulpit. Beneath this shade (with my eyes of\\nsense half shut, and those of the imagination widely\\nopened) I used to see the holy Apostle of the Indians,\\nwith the sunlight flickering down upon him through the\\nleaves, and glorifying his figure as with the hulf-per\\nceptible glow of a transfiguration.\\nI the more minutely describe the rock, and this little\\nSabbath solitude, because Hollingsworth, at our solic-\\nitation, often ascended Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit, and not exactly\\npreached, but talked to us, his few disciples, in a\\nstrain that rose and fell as naturally as the wind\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nbreath among the leaves of the birch-tree. No othe.*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0472.jp2"}, "471": {"fulltext": "ELIOT\u00e2\u0080\u0099S PULPIT.\\nL43\\nspeech of man has ever moved me like some of those\\ndiscourses. It seemed most pitiful a positive calam-\\nity to the world that a treasury of golden thoughts\\nshould thus be scattered, by the liberal handful, down\\namong us three, when a thousand hearers might have\\nbeen the richer for them and Hollingsworth the richer,\\nlikewise, by the sympathy of multitudes. After speak-\\ning much or little, as might happen, he would descend\\nfrom his gray pulpit, and generally fling himself at full\\nlength on the ground, face downward. Meanwhile, we\\ntalked around him, on such topics as were suggested by\\nthe discourse.\\nSince her interview with Westervelt, Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s con-\\nlinual inequalities of temper had been rather difficult for\\nher friends to bear. On the first Sunday after that inci-\\ndent, when Hollingsworth had clambered down from\\nEliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit, she declaimed with great earnestness and\\npassion, nothing short of anger, on the injustice which\\nthe world did to women, and equally to itself, by not\\nallowing them, in freedom and honor, and with the full-\\nest welcome, their natural utterance in public.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cIt shall not always be so cried she. \u00e2\u0080\u009cIf 1 live\\nanother year, I will lift up my own voice in behalf of\\nwoman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wider liberty\\nShe, perhaps, saw me smile.\\nWhat matter of ridicule do you find in this, Miles\\nCoverdale exclaimed Zenobia, with a flash of anger\\nin her eyes. That smile, permit me to say, makes me\\ncuspicious of a low tone of feeling and shallow thought\\nIt is my belief yes, and my prophecy, should I cue\\nbefore it happens that, when my sex shall achieve its\\nfights there will be ten eloquent women where there is", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0473.jp2"}, "472": {"fulltext": "144\\n7-iE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nnow one eloquent man. Thus far. no woman in the\\nworld has ever once spoken out her whole heart and\\nher whole mind The mistrust and disapproval of the\\nvast bulk of society throttles us, as with two gigantic\\nhands at our throats We mumble a few w jak words,\\nand leave a thousand better ones unsaid. You let us\\nwrite a little, it is true, on a limited range of subjects.\\nBut the pen is not for woman. Her power is too natural\\naryl immediate. It is with the living voice alone that\\nshe can compel the world to recognize the light of hex\\nintellect and the depth of her heart\\nNow, though I could not well say so to Zenobia,\\nI had not smiled from any unworthy estimate of woman,\\nor in denial of the claims which she is beginning to\\nput forth. What amused and puzzled me was the fact,\\nthat women, however intellectually superior, so seldom\\ndisquiet themselves about the rights or wrongs of their\\nsex, unless their own individual affections chance to lie\\nin idleness, or to be ill at ease. They are not natural\\nreformers, but become such by the pressure of excep-\\ntional misfortune. I could measure Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s inward\\ntrouble by the animosity with which she now took up\\nthe general quarrel of woman against man.\\nI will give you leave, Zenobia,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied I, to fling\\nyour utmost scorn upon me, if you ever hear me utter a\\nsentiment unfavorable to the widest liberty which woman\\nhas yet dreamed of. I would give her all she asks, and\\nadd a great deal more, which she will not be the party\\nto demand, but which men, if they were generous and\\nwise, would grant of their own free motion. For\\ninstance, I should love dearly, for the next thcusand\\nyears, at least, to have all government devolve into", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0474.jp2"}, "473": {"fulltext": "ELIOT\u00e2\u0080\u0099S PULP/T.\\n145\\ntne hands of women. I hate to be ruled by my own\\nsex it excites my jealousy, and wounds my pride. It\\nis the iron sway ol bodily force which abases us, in our\\ncompelled submission. But how sweet the free, gen-\\nerous courtesy, with which I would kneel before a\\nwoman-ruler\\nYes, if she were young and beautiful,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zeno-\\nbia, laughing. \u00e2\u0080\u009cBut how if she were sixty, and a\\nfright\\nAh it is you that rate womanhood low,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said 1.\\nBut let me go on. I have never found it possible to\\nsuffer a bearded priest so near my heart and conscience\\nas to do me any spiritual good. I blush at the very\\nthought 0, in the better order of things, Heaven grant\\nthat the ministry of souls may be left in charge of\\nwomen The gates of the Blessed City will be\\nthronged with the multitude that enter in, when that\\nday comes The task belongs to woman. God meant\\nit for her. He has endowed her with the religious sen-\\ntiment in its utmost depth and purity, refined from that\\ngross, intellectual alloy with which every masculine\\ntheologist save only One, who merely veiled himself\\nin mortal and masculine shape, but was, in truth, divine\\nhas been prone to mingle it. I have always envied\\nthe Catholics their faith in that sweet, sacred Virgin\\nMother, who stands between them and the Deity, inter-\\ncepting somewhat of his awful splendor, but permitting\\nhis love to stream upon the worshipper more intelligibly\\nto human comprehension through the medium of a\\nwoman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s tenderness. Have I not said enough, Zeno-\\nbia\\n1 cannot think that this is true,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed Priscilla\\n10", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0475.jp2"}, "474": {"fulltext": "1 16\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nwho had been gazing at me with great, disapproving\\neyes. And I am sure I do not wish it to be true\\nPoor child exclaimed Zenobia, rather contempt-\\nuously. She is the type of womanhood, such as man\\nhas spent centuries in making it. He is never content\\nunless he can degrade himself by stooping towards what\\nhe loves. In denying us our rights, he betrays even\\nmore blindness to his own interests than profligate dis-\\nregard of ours\\nIs this true?\u00e2\u0080\u009d asked Priscilla, with simplicity, turn-\\ning to Hollingsworth. Is it all true, that Mr. Cover-\\ndale and Zenobia have been saying\\nNo, Priscilla answered Hollingsworth, with his\\ncustomary bluntness. They have neither of them\\nspoken one true word yet.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cDo you despise woman?\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAh,\\nHollingsworth, that would be most ungrateful\\nDespise her No cried Hollingsworth, lifting his\\ngreat shaggy head and shaking it at us, while his eyes\\nglowed almost fiercely. She is the most admirable\\nhandiwork of God, in her true place and character.\\nHer place is at man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s side. Her office, that of the sym-\\npathizer the unreserved, unquestioning believer the\\nrecognition, withheld in every other manner, but given,\\nin pity, through woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart, lest man should utterly\\nlose faith in himself; the echo of God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own voice, pro\\nnouncing, \u00e2\u0080\u0098It is well done!\u00e2\u0080\u0099 All the separate action\\nof woman is, and ever has been, and always shall be\\nfalse, foolish, vain, destructive of her own best and\\nholiest qualities, void of every good effect, and product\\nive of intolerable mischiefs Man is a wretch withou\\nwoman; but woman is a monster and, thank Heaven,", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0476.jp2"}, "475": {"fulltext": "eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulmt\\n147\\nan a most impossible and hitherto imaginary monster\\nwithout man as her acknowledged principal As true\\nas I had once a mother whom I loved, were there any\\npossible prospect of woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s taking the social stand\\nwhich some of them poor, miserable, abortive crea*\\ntures, who only dream of such things because they have\\nmissed woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s peculiar happiness, or because nature\\nmade them really neither man nor woman if there\\nwere a chance of their attaining the end which these\\npetticoated monstrosities have in view, I would call upon\\nmy own sex to use its physical force, that unmistakable\\nevidence of sovereignty, to scourge them back within\\ntheir proper bounds But it will not be needful. The\\nheart of true womanhood knows where its own sphere\\nis, and never seeks to stray beyond it\\nNever was mortal blessed if blessing it were with\\na glance of such entire acquiescence and unquestioning\\nfaith, happy in its completeness, as our little Priscilla\\nunconsciously bestowed on Hollingsworth. She seemed\\nto take the sentiment from his lips into her heart, and\\nbrood over it in perfect content. The very woman\\nwhom he pictured the gentle parasite, the soft reflec\\ntion of a more powerful existence sat there at his feet.\\nI looked at Zenobia, however, fully expecting her to\\nresent as I felt, by the indignant ebullition of my own\\nblood, that she ought this outrageous affirmation of\\nwhat struck me as the intensity of masculine egotism.\\nIt centred everything in itself, and deprived woman of\\nher very soul, her inexpressible and unfathomable all, to\\nmake it a mere incident in the great sum of man.\\nHollingsworth had boldly uttered what he, and millions\\nof despots like him, really felt. Without intending it,", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0477.jp2"}, "476": {"fulltext": "148\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nhe had disclosed the well-spring of all these troubled\\nwaters. Now, if ever, it surely behooved Zenobia to be\\nthe champion of her sex.\\nBut, to my surprise, and indignation too, she only\\nlooked humbled. Some tears sparkled in her eyes, but\\nthey were wholly of giief, not anger.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, be it so,\u00e2\u0080\u009d was all she said. \u00e2\u0080\u009cI, at least\\nhave deep cause to think you right. Let man be but\\nmanly and god-like, and woman is only too ready to\\nbecome to him what you say\\nI smiled somewhat bitterly, it is true in contem-\\nplation of my own ill-luck. How little did these two\\nwomen care for me, who had freely conceded all their\\nclaims, and a great deal more, out of the fulness of my\\nheart; while Hollingsworth, by some necromancy of his\\nhorrible injustice, seemed to have brought them both to\\nhis feet\\nWomen almost invariably behave thus,\u00e2\u0080\u009d thought I.\\nWhat does the fact mean Is it their nature Or is\\nit, at last, the result of ages of compelled degradation\\nAnd, in either case, will it be possible ever to redeem\\nthem\\nAn intuition now appeared to possess all the party,\\nthat, for this time, at least, there was no more to be\\nsaid. With one accord, we arose from the ground, and\\nmade our way through the tangled undergrowth towards\\none of those pleasant wood-paths that wound among the\\nover-arching trees. Some of the branches hung so low\\nas partly to conceal the figures that went before from\\nthose who followed. Priscilla had leaped up more\\nlightly than the rest of us, and ran along in advance,\\nwth as much airy activity of spirit as was typified in", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0478.jp2"}, "477": {"fulltext": "ELIOT\u00e2\u0080\u0099S PULPIT.\\n1*9\\nrtu* *fl.otic.i ot a bird, which chanced to be flitting from\\ntree to tree, in the same direction as herself. Never did\\nshe seem so happy as that afternoon. She skipt, and\\ncould not help it, from very playfulness of heart.\\nZenobia and Hollingsworth went next, in close conti-\\nguity, but not with arm in arm. Now, just when they\\nhad passed the- impending bough of a birch-tree, I\\nplainly saw Zenobia take the hand of Hollingsworth in\\nboth her own, press it to her bosom, and let it fall\\nagain\\nThe gesture was sudden, and full of passion the\\nimpulse had evidently taken her by surprise; it expressed\\nall Had Zenobia knelt before him, or flung herself\\nupon his breast, and gasped out, I love you, Hollings\\nworth I could not have been more certain of what it\\nmeant. They then walked onward, as before. But,\\nmethought, as the declining sun threw Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s magni-\\nfied shadow along the path, I beheld it tremulous and\\nthe delicate stem of the flower which she wore in her\\nhair was likewise responsive to her agitation.\\nPriscilla through the medium of her eyes, at least\\ncould not possibly have been aware of the gesture\\nabove described. Yet, at that instant, I saw her droop\\nThe buoyancy, which just before had been so bird-like,\\nwas utterly departed the life seemed to pass out of her,\\nand even the substance of her figure to grow thin and\\ngray. I almost imagined her a shadow, fading grad-\\nually \u00e2\u0080\u0098nto the dimness of the wood. Her pace became\\nso slow, that Hollingsworth and Zenobia passed by, and\\nI, without hastening my footsteps, overtook her.\\nCome, Priscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, looking her intently in the.\\nface, which was very pale and sorrowful, \u00e2\u0080\u009cwe must", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0479.jp2"}, "478": {"fulltext": "so\\nTBE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nmake haste after our friends. Do you feel suddenlj ill\\nA moment ago, you flitted along so lightly that I was\\ncomparing you to a bird. Now, on the contrary, it is as\\nif you had a heavy heart, and very little strength to bear\\nit with. Pray take my arm\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNo,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Priscilla, \u00e2\u0080\u009cI do not think it would help\\nme. It is my heart, as you say, that makes me heavy\\nand I know not why. Just now, I felt very happy.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNo doubt it was a kind of sacrilege in me to attempt\\nto come within her maidenly mystery; but, as she\\nappeared to be tossed aside by her other friends, or care-\\nlessly let fall, like a flower which they had done with, I\\ncould not resist the impulse to take just one peep beneath\\nher folded petals.\\nZenobia and yourself are dear friends, of late,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I\\nremarked. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAt first, that first evening when you\\ncame to us, she did not receive you quite so warmly\\nas might have been wished.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cI remember it,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Priscilla. \u00e2\u0080\u009cNo wonder she\\nhesitated to love me, who was then a stranger to her,\\nand a girl of no grace or beauty, she being herself so\\nbeautiful\\nBut she loves you now, of course suggested I.\\nAnd at this very instant you feel her to be your dear-\\nest friend\\nWhy do you ask me that question exclaimed\\nPriscilla, as if frightened at the scrutiny into her feel-\\nings which I compelled her to make. It somehow puts\\nstrange thoughts into my mind. But I 3o love Zenobia\\ndearly If she only loves me half as well, I shall be\\nhanpy\\nHow is it possible to doubt that, Priscilla I re", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0480.jp2"}, "479": {"fulltext": "ELIOT\u00e2\u0080\u0099S PULPIT\\n151\\n\u00e2\u0099\u00a6oined. But observe how pleasantly aiul happily\\nZenobia and Hollingsworth are walking together. 1\\ncal 1 it a delightful spectacle. It truly rejoic.es me that\\nHol iingsworth has found so fit and affectionate a friend\\nSo many people in the world mistrust him, so many\\ndisbelieve and ridicule, while hardly any do him justice,\\nor acknowledge him for the wonderful man he is, that\\nit is really a blessed thing for him to have won the syrm\\npathy of such a woman as Zenobia. Any man might\\nbe proud of that. Any man, even if he be as great as\\nHollingsworth, might love so magnificent a woman.\\nHow very beautiful Zenobia is And Hollingsworth\\nknows it, too.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThere may have been some petty malice in what I\\nsaid. Generosity is a very fine thing, at a proper time,\\nand within due limits. But it is an insufferable bore to\\nsee one man engrossing every thought of all the women,\\nand leaving his friend to shiver in outer seclusion, with-\\nout even the alternative of solacing himself with what\\nthe more fortunate individual has rejected. Yes it wa3\\nout of a foolish bitterness of heart that I had spoken.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cGo on before,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Priscilla, abruptly, and v\\ntrue feminine imperiousness, which heretofore I had\\nnever seen her exercise. It pleases me best to loiter\\nalong by myself. I do not walk so fast as you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWith her hand, she made a little gesture of dismissal.\\nIt provoked me yet, on the whole, was the most be-\\nwitching thing that Priscilla had ever done. I obeyed\\nher, and strolled moodily homeward, wondering as I\\nhad wondered a thousand times already how Hol-\\nlingsworth meant to dispose of these two hearts, which\\n(plainly to my perception, and, as I cou d not but now", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0481.jp2"}, "480": {"fulltext": "152\\nTHE BL3THEPALE ROMANCE.\\nsuppose, to his) he had engrossed into his own hug?\\negotism.\\nThere was likewise another subject hardly less fruit\\nful of speculation. In what attitude did Zenobia piesen\\nherself to Hollingsworth? Was it in that of a free\\nwoman, with no mortgage on her affections nor claimant\\nto her hand, but fully at liberty to surrender both, in\\nexchange for the heart and hand which she apparently\\nexpected to receive But was it a vision that I had\\nwitnessed in the wood? Was Westervelt a goblin?\\nWere those words of passion and agony, which Zenobia\\nhad uttered in my hearing, a mere stage declamation\\nWere they formed of a material lighter than common\\nair Or, supposing them to bear sterling weight, was\\nit not a perilous and dreadful wrong which she was\\nmeditating towards herself and Hollingsworth\\nArriving nearly at the farm-house, I looked back over\\nthe long slope of pasture-land, and beheld them standing\\ntogether, in the light of sunset, just on the spot where,\\nRecording to the gossip of the Community, they meant\\nto bu ld their cottage. Priscilla, alone and forgotten,\\nwas lingering in the shadow of the wood.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0482.jp2"}, "481": {"fulltext": "XY.\\nA CRISIS\\nThus the summer was passing away a summer of\\ntoil, of interest, of something that was not pleasure, but\\nwhich went deep into my heart, and there became a rich\\nexperience. 1 found myself looking forward to years, if\\nnot to a lifetime, to be spent on the same system. The\\nCommunity were now beginning to form their pennanent\\nplans. One of our purposes was to erect a Phalanstery\\n(as I think we called it, after Fourier; but the phrase-\\nology of those days is not very fresh in my remem-\\nbrance), where the great and general family should have\\nits abiding-place. Individual members, too, who made\\nit a point of religion to preserve the sanctity of an ex-\\nclusive home, were selecting sites for their cottages, by\\nthe wood-side, or on the breezy swells, or in the sheltered\\nnook of some little valley, according as their taste might\\nlean towards snugness or the picturesque. Altogether,\\nby projecting our minds outward, we had imparted a\\nshow of novelty to existence, and contemplated it as\\nhopefully as if the soil beneath our feet had not been\\nfathom-deep with the dust of deluded generations, on\\nevery one of which, as on ourselves, the world had\\nimposed itself as a hitherto unwedded bride.\\nHollingsworth and myself had often discussed these\\nprospects. It was easy to perceive, however, that he\\nspoke with little or no fervor, but either as questioning", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0483.jp2"}, "482": {"fulltext": "154\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROK/lNCE.\\nthe fulfilment of our anticipations, or, at any rate, with a\\nquiet consciousness that it was no personal concern of\\nhis. Shortly after the scene at Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit, while he\\nand I were repairing an old stone fence, I amused myself\\nwith sallying forward into the future time.\\nWhen we come to be old men,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I said, they will\\ncall us uncles, or fathers, Father Hollingsworth and\\nUncle Coverdale, and we will look back cheerfully to\\nthese early days, and make a romantic story for the\\nyoung people (and if a little more romantic than truth\\nmay warrant, it will be no harm) out of our severe trials\\nand hardships. In a century or two, we shall, every\\none of us, be mythical personages, or exceedingly pictur-\\nesque and poetical ones, at all events. They will have\\na great public hall, in which your portrait, and mine,\\nand twenty other faces that are living now, shall be hung\\nup and as for me, I will be painted in my shirt-sleeves,\\nand with the sleeves rolled up, to show my muscular\\ndevelopment. What stories will be rife among them\\nabout our mighty strength continued I, lifting a big\\nstone and putting it into its place though our posterity\\nwill really be far stronger than ourselves, after several\\ngenerations of a simple, natural, and active life. What\\nlegends of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s beauty, and Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s slender and\\nshadowy grace, and those mysterious qualities which\\nmake her seem diaphanous with spiritual light In due\\ncourse of ages, we must all figure heroically in an epic\\npoem and we will ourselves at least, I will Dend\\nunseen over the future poet, and lend him inspiration\\nwhile he writes it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYou seem,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth, \u00e2\u0080\u009cto be trying how\\nmuch nonsense you can pour out in a breath.\u00e2\u0080\u009d", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0484.jp2"}, "483": {"fulltext": "A CRISIS.\\nI06\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cI wish you would --ee fit to comprehend,\u00e2\u0080\u009d retorted\\nI, that the profoundest wisdom must be mingled with\\nnine-tenths of nonsense, else it is not worth the breath\\nthat utters it. But I do long for the cottages to be built,\\nthat the creeping plants may begin to run over them, and\\nthe moss to gather on the walls, and the trees which\\nwe will set out to cover them with a breadth of\\nshadow. This spick-and-span novelty does not quite\\nsuit my taste. It is time, too, for children to be bom\\namong us. The first-born child is still to come. And\\nI shall never feel as if this were a real, practical, as well\\nas poetical, system of human life, until somebody has\\nsanctified it by death.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nA pretty occasion for martyrdom, truly said Hoi\\niingsworth.\\nAs good as any other,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I replied. I wonder, Hoi\\ndngsworth, who, of all these strong men, and fair women\\nand maidens, is doomed the first to die. W ould it not\\nbe well, even before we have absolute need of it, to fix\\nupon a spot for a cemetery Let us choose the rudest,\\nroughest, most uncultivable spot, for Death\u00e2\u0080\u0099s garden-\\nground and Death shall teach us to beautify it, grave\\nby grave. By our sweet, calm way of dying, and the\\nairy elegance out of which we will shape our funeral\\nrites, and the cheerful allegories which we will model\\ninto tomb-stones, the final scene shall lose its terrors so\\nthat hereafter it may be happiness to live, and bliss tc\\ndie None of us must die young. Yet, should Provi-\\ndence ordain it so, the event shall not be sorrowful, but\\naffect us with a tender, delicious, only half melancholy\\nand almost smiling pathos\\nThat is to say,\u00e2\u0080\u009d muttered Hollingsworth, you will", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0485.jp2"}, "484": {"fulltext": "156\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\ndie like a heatnm, as you certainly live like one. But,\\nlisten to me, Coverdale. Your fantastic anticipations\\nmake me discern all the more forcibly what a wretched,\\nunsubstantial scheme is this, on which we have wasted a\\nprecious summer of our lives. Do you seriousl) imagine\\nthat any such realities as you, and many others here,\\nhave dreamed of, will ever be brought to pass\\nCertainly, I do,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said 1. Of course, when the\\nreaJty comes, it will wear the every-day, commonplace,\\ndusty, and rather homely garb, that reality always does\\nput on. But, setting aside the ideal charm, I held that\\nour highest anticipations have a solid footing on common\\nsense.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYou only half believe what you say,\u00e2\u0080\u009d rejoined Hol-\\nlingsworth and as for me, I neither have faith in your\\ndream, nor would care the value of this pebble for its\\nrealization, were that possible. And what more do you\\nwant of it It has given you a theme for poetry. Let\\nthat content yGU. But now I ask you to be, at last, a\\nman of sobriety and earnestness, and aid me in an enter-\\nprise which is worth all our strength, and the strength\\nof a thousand mightier than we.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThere can be no need of giving in detail the conver-\\nsation that ensued. It is enough to say that Hollings-\\nworth once more brought forward his rigid and uncon-\\nquerable idea a scheme for the reformation of the\\nwicked by methods moral, intellectual and industrial, by\\nthe sympathy of pure, humble, and yet exalted minds\\nand by opening, to his pupils the possibility of a worthiei\\nlife than that which had become their fate. It appeared,\\nunless he over-estimated his own means, that Hollings-\\nworth held it at his choic* (and he did so choose) to", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0486.jp2"}, "485": {"fulltext": "A CRISIS,\\n157\\nobtain possession of the very ground on which wre had\\nplanted our Community, and which had not yet been\\nmade irrevocably ours, by purchase. It was just the\\nfoundation that he desired. Our beginnings might read-\\nily be adapted to his great end. The arrangements\\nalready completed would work quietly into his system.\\nSo plausible looked his theory, and, more than that, so\\npractical, such an air of reasonableness had he, by\\npatient thought, thrown over it, each segment of it\\nwas contrived to dove-tail into all the rest with such a\\ncomplicated applicability, and so ready was he with a\\nresponse for every objection, that, really, so far as logic\\nand argument went, he had the matter all his own way,\\nBut,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, whence can you, having no means of\\nyour own, derive the enormous capital which is essential\\nto this experiment State-street, I imagine, would not\\ndraw its purse-strings very liberally in aid of such a\\nspeculation.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI have the funds as much, at least, as is needed for\\na commencement at command,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he answered. They\\ncan be produced within a month, if necessary.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nMy thoughts reverted to Zenobia. It could only be\\nher wealth which Hollingsworth was appropriating so\\nlavishly. And on what conditions was it to be had?\\nDid she fling it into the scheme with the uncaJculating\\ngenerosity that characterizes a woman when it is l.ei\\nimpulse to be generous at all And did she fling herseJf\\nalong with it But Hollingsworth did not volunteer an\\nexplanation.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd have you no regrets,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I inquired, \u00e2\u0080\u009cin ovei\\nthrowring this fair system of our new life, which has been\\nplanned so deeply, and is now beginning to flour so", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0487.jp2"}, "486": {"fulltext": "158\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nhopefully around us How beautiful it is, and, so far as\\nwe can yet see, how practicable The ages have waited\\nfor us, and here we are, the very first that have essayeu\\nto carry on our mortal existence in love and mutual\\nhelp! Holling wvorth, I would be loth\u00e2\u0080\u0099 to take the rui.i\\nof this enterprise upon my conscience.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThen let it rest wholly upon mine he answered,\\nknitting his black brows. I see through the system\\nIt is full of defects, irremediable and damning ones\\nfrom first to last, there is nothing else I grasp it in\\nmy hand, ana find no substance whatever. There is not\\nhuman nature in it.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhy are you so secret in your operations I\\nasked. God forbid that I should accuse you of inten-\\ntional WTong but the besetting sin of a philanthropist,\\nit appears to me, is apt to be a moral obliquity. His\\nsense of honor ceases to be the sense of other honorable\\nmen. At some point of his course I know not exactly\\nwhen or where he is tempted to palter with the right,\\nand can scarcely forbear persuading himself that the\\nimportance of his public ends renders it allowable to\\nthrow aside his private conscience. O, my dear friend,\\nbeware this error If you meditate the overthrow of this\\nestablishment, call together our companions, state your\\ndesign, support it with all your eloquence, but allow them\\n*n opportunity of defending themselves.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt does not suit me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth. Nor is\\nit my duty to do so.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI think it is,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied I.\\nHollingsworth frowned not in passion, but, like fate\\ninexorably.\\nI wil not argue the point,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he. What 1", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0488.jp2"}, "487": {"fulltext": "A CRISIS.\\n159\\ndesire to know of y ju is, and you can tell me in one\\nword, whether 3 am to look for your cooperation in\\nthis great scheme of good Take it up with me Be\\nmy brother in it It offers you (what you have told me,\\nover and over again, that you most need) a purpose in\\nlife, worthy of the extremest self-devotion, worthy of\\nmartyrdom, should God so order it! In this view. I\\npresent it to you. You can greatly benefit mankind.\\nYour peculiar faculties, as I shall direct them, are capable\\nof being so wrought into this enterprise that not one of\\nthem need lie idle. Strike hands with me, and from\\nthis moment you shall never again feel the languor and\\nvague wretchedness of an indolent or half-occupied man.\\nThere may be no more aimless beauty in your life but,\\nin its stead, there shall be strength, courage, immitigable\\nwill everything that a manly and generous nature\\nshould desire We shall succeed We shall have done\\nour best for this miserable world and happiness (which\\nnever comes but incidentally) will come to us unawares.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt seemed his intention to say no more. But, after he\\nhad quite broken off, his deep eyes filled with tears, and\\nhe held out both his hands to me.\\nCoverdale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he murmured, there is not the man in\\nthis wide -world whom I can love as I could you. Do\\nnot forsake me\\nAs I look back upon this scene, through the coldness\\nand dimness of so many years, there is still a sensation\\nas if Hollingsworth had caught hold of my heart, and\\nwere pulling it towards him with an almost irresist-\\nible force. It is a mystery to ire how I withstood it.\\nBut, in truth, I saw in his scheme of philanthropy\\nnothing but what was odious. A loathsomeness that", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0489.jp2"}, "488": {"fulltext": "160\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nwas to 0e forever in my daily work! A great, black\\nugliness of sin, which he proposed to collect out of a\\nthousand human hearts, and that we should spend our\\nlives in an experiment of transmuting it into virtue Had\\nI but touched his extended hand, Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s mag-\\nnetism would perhaps have penetrated me with his own\\nconception of all these matters. But I stood aloof. I\\nfortified myself with doubts whether his strength of pur-\\npose had not been too gigantic for his integrity, impelling\\nhim to trample on considerations that should have been\\nparamount to every other.\\nIs Zenobia to take a part in your enterprise ?\u00e2\u0080\u009dI\\nasked.\\nShe is,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth.\\nShe the beautiful the gorgeous I exclaimed.\\nAnd how have you prevailed with such a woman to\\nwork in this squalid element\\nThrough no base methods, as you seem to suspect,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nhe answered but by addressing whatever is best and\\nnoblest in her.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHollingsworth was looking on the ground. But,\\nas he often did so, generally, indeed, in his habitual\\nmoods of thought, I could not judge whether it was\\nfrom any special unwillingness now to meet my eyes.\\nWhat it was that dictated my next question, I cannot\\nprecisely say. Nevertheless, it rose so inevitably into\\nmy mouth, and, as it wc:e, asked itself so involuntarily,\\nthat there must needs have been an aptness in it.\\nWhat is to become of Priscilla\\nHollingsworth looked at me fiercely, and witb glowing\\neyes He could not have shewn any other kind of", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0490.jp2"}, "489": {"fulltext": "A CRISIS,\\n163\\nexpression than that, had he meant to stilke me with a\\nsword.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhy do you bring in the names of these women\\nsaid lie, after a moment of pregnant silence. What\\nhave they to do with the proposal which I make you\\nI must have your answer Will you devote yourself,\\nand sacrifice all to this great end, and be my friend of\\nfriends forever\\nIn Heaven\u00e2\u0080\u0099s name, Hollingsworth,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried I, getting\\nangry, and glad to be angry, because so only was it pos-\\nsible to oppose his tremendous concentrativeness and\\nindomitable will, cannot you conceive that a man may\\nwish well to the world, and struggle for its good, on\\nsome other plan than precisely that which you have laid\\nlown And will you cast off a friend for no unworthi-\\nness, but merely because he stands upon his right as an\\nindividual being, and looks at matters through his own\\noptics, instead of yours\\nBe with me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth, or be against\\nme There is no third choice for you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nTake this, then, as my decision,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I answered. I\\ndoubt the wisdom of your scheme. Furthermore, 1\\ngreatly fear that the methods by which you allow your-\\nself to pursue it are such as cannot stand the scrutiny\\nof an unbiassed conscience.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd you will not join me\\nNo\\nI never said the word and certainly can nerer have\\nit to say hereafter that cost me a thousandth part so\\nhard an effort as did that one syllable. The heart-pang\\nwas not merely figurative, but an absolute V)rture of the\\nbreast. I was gazing steadfastly at Hollingsworth It\\n11", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0491.jp2"}, "490": {"fulltext": "1 }2 THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE\\nseemed to me that it struck him, too, like a bullet. A\\nghastly paleness always so terrific on a swarthy face\\noverspread his features. There was a convulsive\\nmovemei t of his throat, as if he were forcing down some\\nwords that struggled and fought for utterance. Whether\\nwords of anger, or words of grief, I cannot tell although,\\nmany and many a time, I have vainly tormented myself\\nwith conjecturing which of the two they were. One\\nother appeal to my friendship, such as once, already,\\nHollingsworth had made, taking me in the revulsion\\nthat followed a strenuous exercise of opposing will,\\nwould completely have subdued me. But he left the\\nmatter there.\\nWell said he.\\nAnd that was all I should have been thankful for\\none word more, even had it shot me through the heart,\\nas mine did him. But he did not speak it and, after\\na few moments, with one accord, we set to work again,\\nrepairing the stone fence. Hollingsworth, I observed,\\nwrought like a Titan; and, for my own part, I lifted\\nstones which at this day or, in a calmer mood, at\\ntnat one I should no more have thought it possible to\\nstir than to carry off the gates of Gaza on my back.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0492.jp2"}, "491": {"fulltext": "XVI.\\nLEAVE-TAKINGS.\\nA few days after the tragic passage-at-arms between\\nHollingsworth and me, I appeared at the dinner-table\\nactually dressed in a coat, instead of my customary\\nblouse with a satin cravat, too, a white vest, and sev-\\neral other things that made me seem strange and out-\\nlandish to myself. As for my companions, this un-\\nwonted spectacle caused a great stir upon the wooden\\nbenches that bordered either side of our homely board.\\nWhat \u00e2\u0080\u0099s in the wind now, Miles asked one of\\nthem. Are you deserting us\\nYes, for a week or two,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I. It strikes me\\nthat my health demands a little relaxation of labor, and\\na. short visit to the sea-side, during the dog-days.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYou look like it!\u00e2\u0080\u009d grumbled Silas Foster, not\\ngreatly pleased with the idea of losing an efficient\\nlaborer before the stress of the season was well over.\\nNow, here \u00e2\u0080\u0099s a pretty fellow His shoulders have\\nbroadened a matter of six inches, since he came among\\nus he can do his day\u00e2\u0080\u0099s work, if he likes, with any man\\nor ox on the farm and yet he talks about going to the\\nsea-shore for his health Well, well, old woman,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nadded he to his wife, let me have a plateful of that\\npork and cabbage I begin to feel in a very weakly\\nway. When the others have had their turn, you and I\\nwill take a jaunt to Newport or Saratoga", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0493.jp2"}, "492": {"fulltext": "164\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, but, Mr. Foster,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, \u00e2\u0080\u009cyou must allow\\nme to take a litile breath.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nBreath retorted the old yeoman. \u00e2\u0080\u009cYour lungs\\nhave the play of a pair of blacksmith\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bellows already.\\nWhat on earth do you want more But go along I\\nunderstand the business. We shall never see your\\nface here again. Here ends the reformation of the\\nworld, so far as Miles Coverdale has a hand in it\\nBy no means,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I replied. I am resolute to die in\\nthe last ditch, for the good of the cause.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nDie in a ditch!\u00e2\u0080\u009d muttered gruff Silas, with genuine\\nYankee intolerance of any intermission of toil, except on\\nSunday, the fourth of July, the autumnal cattle-show,\\nThanksgiving, or the annual Fast. Die in a ditch\\nI believe, in my conscience, you would, if there were no\\nsteadier means than your own labor to keep you out\\nof it!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe truth was, that an intolerable discontent and\\nirksomeness had come over me. Blithedale was no\\nlonger what it had been. Everything was suddenly\\nfaded. The sun-burnt and arid aspect of our woods and\\npastures, beneath the August sky, did but imperfectly\\nsymbolize the lack of dew and moisture that, since yes-\\nterday, as it were, had blighted my fields of thought,\\nand penetrated to the innermost and shadiest of my\\ncontemplative recesses. The change will be recognized\\nby many, who, after a period of happiness, have endeav-\\nored to go on with the same kind of life, in the same\\nscene, in spite of the alteration or withdrawal of some\\nprincipal circumstance. They discover (what heretofore,\\nperhaps, they had not known) that it was this which gave\\nthe bright color and vivid reality to the whole affair", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0494.jp2"}, "493": {"fulltext": "LEAVE-TAKINGS.\\n165\\ni stood 01. Jther terms than before, not only with\\nHollingsworth, but with Zenobia and Priscilla. As\\nregarded the two latter, it was that dream-like and\\nmiserable sort of change that denies you the jjrivi-\\nlege to complain, because you can assert no positive\\ninjury, nor lay your finger on anything tangible. It is\\na matter which you do not see, but feel, and which,\\nwhen you try to analyze it, seems to lose its very exist-\\nence, and resolve itself into a sickly humor of your own.\\nYour understanding, possibly, may put faith in this\\ndenial. But your heart will not so easily rest satisfied.\\nIt incessantly remonstrates, though, most of the time, in\\na bass-note, which you do not separately distinguish\\nbut, now and then, with a sharp cry, importunate to be\\nheard, and resolute to claim belief. Things are not as\\nthey were!\u00e2\u0080\u009d it keeps saying r \u00e2\u0080\u009cYou shall not impose\\non me I will never be quiet I will throb painfully\\nwill be heavy, and desolate, and shiver with cold\\nFor I, your deep heart, know when to be miserable, as\\nonce I knew when to be happy All is changed for\\nus! You are beloved no more!\u00e2\u0080\u009d And, were my life\\nto be spent over again, I would invariably lend my\\near to this Cassandra of the inward depths, however\\nclamorous the music and the merriment of a more super-\\nficial region.\\nMy outbreak with Hollingsworth, though never de fi-\\nnitely known to our associates, had really an effect upon\\nthe moral atmosphere of the Community. It was inci-\\ndental to the closeness of relationship into which we had\\nbroight ourselves, that an unfriendly state of feeling\\ncould not occur be ween any two members, without the\\nwhole society beint more or \u00e2\u0080\u0099ess commoted ind mad", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0495.jp2"}, "494": {"fulltext": "166\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nuncomfortable thereby. This species of nervous sym-\\npathy (though a pretty characteristic enough, sentiment-\\nally considered, and apparently betokening an actual\\nbond of love among us) was yet found rather inconven-\\nient in its practical operation mortal tempers being so\\ninfirm and variable as they are. If one of us happened\\nto give his neighbor a box on the ear, the tingle wa3\\nimmediately felt on the same side of everybody\u00e2\u0080\u0099s head.\\nThus, even on the supposition that we were far less\\nquarrelsome than the rest of the world, a great deal of\\ntime was necessarily wasted in rubbing our ears.\\nMusing on all these matters, I felt an inexpressible\\nlonging for at least a temporary novelty. I thought of\\ngoing across the Rocky Mountains, or to Europe, or up\\nthe Nile of offering myself a volunteer on the Explor-\\ning Expedition of taking a ramble of years, no matter\\nin what direction, and coming back on the other side of\\nthe world. Then, should the colonists of Blithedale\\nhave established their enterprise on a permanent basis, I\\nmight fling aside my pilgrim staff and dusty shoon, and\\nrest as peacefully here as elsewhere. Or, in case Hol-\\nlingsworth should occupy the ground with his School\\nof Reform, as he now purposed, I might plead earthly\\nguilt enough, by that time, to give me what I was\\ninclined to think the only trustworthy hold on his affec-\\ntions. Meanwhile, before deciding on any ultimate\\nplan, I determined to remove myself to a little distance,\\nand take an exterior view of what we had all been about.\\nIn truth, it was dizzy work, amid such fermentation\\nof opinions as was going qn in the general brain of the\\nCommunity. It was a kind of Bedlam, for the time\\nbeing although out of the very thoughts that were", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0496.jp2"}, "495": {"fulltext": "LEAVE-TAKINGS.\\n167\\nwidest and mcst destructive might grow a wisdom\\nholy, calm and pure, and that should- incarnate itself\\nwith the substance of a ni ble and happy life. But, as\\nmatters now were, I felt myself (and, having a decided\\ntendency towards the actual, I never liked to feel it) get-\\nting quite out of my reckoning, with regard to the exist-\\ning state of the world. I was beginning to lose the sense\\nof what kind of a world it was, among innumerable\\nschemes of what it might or ought to be. It was im-\\npossible, situated as we were, not to imbibe the idea that\\neverything in nature and human existence was fluid, or\\nfast becoming so that the crust of the earth in many\\nplaces was broken, and its whole surface portentously\\nupheaving; that it was a day d crisis, and that we our-\\nselves were in the critical vortex. Our great globe\\nfloated in the atmosphere of infinite space like an un-\\nsubstantial bubble. No sagacious man will long retain\\nnis sagacity, if he live exclusively among reformers and\\nprogressive people, without periodically returning into\\nthe settled system of things, to correct himself by a new\\nobservation from that old stand-point.\\nIt was now time for me, therefore, to go and hold a\\nlittle talk with the conservatives, the writers of the North\\nAmerican Review, the merchants, the politicians, the\\nCambridge men, and all those respectable old blockheads\\nwho still, in this intangibility and mistiness of affairs,\\nkept a death-grip on one or two ideas which had not\\ncome *.nto vogue since yesterday morning.\\nThe brethren took leave of me with cordial kindness\\nand as for the sisterhood, I had serious thoughts of kiss-\\ning them all round, but forebore to do so, because, in\\nall such gene-al salutations, the penance is fully equal to", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0497.jp2"}, "496": {"fulltext": "108\\nTHE BLITHE JALE ROMANCE.\\nthe pleasure. So I kissed none of them and nobody\\nto say the truth, .seemed to expect it.\\nDo you wish me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I said to Zenobia, to announce,\\nin town and at the watering-places, your purpose to\\nOliver a course of lectures on the rights of women\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWomen possess no rights,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia, with a\\nnaif-melancholy smile or, at all events, only little\\ngirls and grandmothers would have the force to exercise\\nthem.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nShe gave me her hand freely and kindly, and looked\\nat me, I thought, with a pitying expression in her eyes\\nnor was there any settled light of joy in them on her\\nown behalf, but a troubled and passionate flame, flicker-\\ning and fitful.\\nI regret, on the whole, that you are leaving us,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she\\nsaid and all the more, since I feel that this phase of\\nour life is finished, and can never be lived over again.\\nDo you know, Mr. Coverdale, that I have been several\\ntimes on the point of making you my confidant, for lack\\nof a better and wiser one But you are too young to\\nbe my father confessor and you would not thank me\\nfor treating you like one of those good little handmaidens\\nwho share the bosom secrets of a tragedy-queen.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI would, at least, be loyal and faithful,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered I,\\nan 1 would counsel you with an honest purpose, if not\\nwisely.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYes,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia, you would be only too wise\\ntoo honest. Honesty and wisdom are such a delightfm\\npastime, at another person\u00e2\u0080\u0099s expense\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAh, Zenobia,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I exclaimed, if you would but let\\nme speak 1\\nBy no means,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she replied, especially when you", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0498.jp2"}, "497": {"fulltext": "LEAVE-T4 KINGS.\\n169\\nhave just resumed the whole series of social convention-\\nalisms, together with that straight-bodied coat. I would\\nas lief Dpen my heart to a lawyer or a clergyman No,\\nno, Mr. Coverdale if I choose a counsellor, in the pres-\\nent aspect of my affairs, it must be either an angel or a\\nmadman and I rather apprehend that the latter would\\nbe likeliest of the two to speak the fitting word. It\\nneeds a wild steersman when we voyage through chaos\\nThe anchor is up farewell\\nPriscilla, as soon as dinner was over, had betaken her-\\nself into a comer, and set to work on a little purse. As\\ni approached her, she let her eyes rest on me with u\\ncalm, serious look for, with all her delicacy of nerves,\\nthere was a singular self-possession in Priscilla, and her\\nsensibilities seemed to lie sheltered from ordinary com-\\nmotion, like the water in a deep well.\\nWill you give me that purse, Priscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, as\\na parting keepsake\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYes,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she answered, \u00e2\u0080\u009cif you will wait till it is\\nfinished.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI must not wait, even for that,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I replied. Shall I\\nfind you here, on my return\\nI never wish to go away,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she.\\nI have sometimes thought,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed I, smiling,\\nthat you, Priscilla, are a little prophetess or, at least,\\nthat you have spiritual intimations respecting matters\\nwhich are dark to us grosser people. If that be the\\ncase, I should like to ask you what is about to happen\\nfor I am toimented with a strong foreboding that, were\\nI to return even so soon as to-morrow morning, I should\\nfind everything changed. Have you any impressions ot\\nthis nature 9", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0499.jp2"}, "498": {"fulltext": "170\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAh, no,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Priscilla, looking at mo apprehen\\nsively. If any such misfortune is coming, the shadow\\nhas not reached me yet. Heaven forbid I should be\\nglad if there might never be any change, but one sum-\\nmer fafow another, and all just like this.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nNo summer ever came back, and no two summers\\never were alike,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, with a degree of Orphic wisdom\\nthat astonished myself. Times change, and people\\nchange and if our hearts do not change as readily, so\\nmuch the worse for us. Good-by, Priscilla\\nI gave her hand a pressure, which, I think, she neither\\nresisted nor returned. Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart was deep, but of\\nsmall compass it had room but for a very few dearest\\nones, among whom she never reckoned me.\\nOn the door-step I met Hollingsworth. I had a mo*\\nr.ientary impulse to hold out my hand, or at least to give\\na parting nod, but resisted both. When a real and\\nstrong affection has come to an end, it is not well to\\nmock the sajcred past with any show of those common-\\nplace civilities that belong to ordinary intercourse. Being\\ndead henceforth to him, and he to me, there could be no\\npropriety in our chilling one another with the touch of\\ntwo corpse-like hands, or playing at looks of courtesy\\nwith eyes that were impenetrable beneath the glaze and\\nthe film. We passed, therefore, as if mutually invis\\nible.\\nI can nowise explain what sort of whim, prank or per\\nversity, it was, that, after all these leave-takings, induced\\nme to go to the pig-sty, and take leave of the swine 1\\nThere they lay, buried as deeply among the straw as\\nthey could burrow, four huge black grunters, the very\\nsymbols of slothful ease and sensual comfort. They", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0500.jp2"}, "499": {"fulltext": "LEAVE-TAKINGS.\\n171\\nwere asleep, drawing short and heavy breaths, which\\nheaved their big sides up and down. Unclosing their\\neyes, however, at my approach, they looked dimly forth\\nat the outer world, and simultaneously uttered a gentle\\ngrunt not putting themselves to the trouble of an addi-\\ntional breath for that particular purpose, but grunting\\nwith their ordinary inhalation. They were involved,\\nand almost stifled and buried alive, in their own corpo-\\nreal substance. The very unreadiness and oppression\\nwherewith these greasy citizens gained breath enough to\\nkeep their life-machinery in sluggish movement, ap-\\npeared to make them only the more sensible of the pon-\\nderous and fat satisfaction of their existence. Peeping\\nat me, an instant, out of their small, red, hardly percepti-\\nble eyes they dropt asleep again yet not so far asleep\\nbut that their unctuous bliss was still present to them,\\nbetwixt dream and reality.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYou must come back in season to eat part of a\\nspare-rib,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Silas Foster, giving my hand a mighty\\nsqueeze. I shall have these fat fellows hanging up by\\nthe heels, heads downward, pretty soon, I tell you\\nO, cruel Silas, what a horrible idea cried I. All\\nthe rest of us, men, women and live-stock, save only\\nthese four porkers, are bedevilled with one grief or an-\\nother they alone are happy, and you mean to cut\\ntheir throats and eat them It would more for the\\ngener comfort to let them eat us and and soul\\nmorsi we shoo d be", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0501.jp2"}, "500": {"fulltext": "XVII.\\nTHE HOTEL.\\nArriving m town (where my bachelor-rooms, long\\nbefore this time, had received some other occupant), I\\nestablished myself, for a day or two, in a certain respect-\\nable hotel. It was situated somewhat aloof from my\\nformer track in life my present mood inclining me to\\navoid most of my old companions, from whom 1 was\\nnow sundered by other interests, and who would have\\nbeen likely enough to amuse themselves at the expense\\nof the amateur working-man. The hotel-keeper put me\\ninto a back-room of the third story of his spacious estab-\\nlishment. The day was lowering, with occasional gusts\\nof rain, and an ugly-tempered east wind, which seemed\\nto come right off the chill and melancholy sea, hardly\\nmitigated by sweeping over the roofs, and amalgamating\\nitself with the dusky element of city smoke. All the\\neffeminacy of past days had returned upon me at once.\\nSummer as it still was, I ordered a coal-fire in the rusty\\ngrate, and was glad to find myself growing a little too\\nwarm with an artificial temperature.\\nMy sensations were those of a traveller, long sojourn-\\ning in remote regions, and at length sitting down again\\namid customs on. i familiar. There was a newness and\\nan oldness oddly combining themselves into one impres-\\nsion. It made me acutely sensible how strange a piece\\nof mosaic-work had lately been wrought into raj life", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0502.jp2"}, "501": {"fulltext": "THE HOTEL.\\n173\\nTrue, if you look at it in one way, it had been only a\\nsummer in the country. But, considered in a profoundei\\nrelation, it was part of another age, a different state of\\nsociety, a segment of an existence peculiar in its aims and\\nmethods, a leaf of some mysterious volume interpolated\\ninto the current history which time was writing off. At\\none moment, the very circumstances now surrounding\\nme my coal-fire, and the dingy room in the bustling\\nhotel appeared far off and intangible the next instant\\nBlithedale looked vague, as if it were at a distance\\nDoth in time and space, and so shadowy that a, question\\nmight be raised whether the whole affair had been any-\\nthing more than the thoughts of a speculative man. 1\\nhad never before experienced a mood that so robbed the\\nactual world of its solidity. It nevertheless involved a\\ncharm, on which a devoted epicure of my own emo-\\ntions I resolved to pause, and enjoy the moral sillabub\\nuntil quite dissolved away.\\nWhatever had been my taste for solitude and natural\\nscenery, yet the thick, foggy, stifled element of cities,\\nthe entangled life of many men together, sordid as it\\nwas, and empty of the beautiful, took quite as strenuous\\n3 hold upon my mind. I felt as if there could never be\\nenough of it. Each characteristic sound was too sug-\\ngestive to be passed over unnoticed. Beneath and\\naround me, I heard the stir of the hotel the loud voices\\nof guests, landlord, or bar-keeper steps echoing on the\\nstair-case the ringing of a bell, announcing arrivals\\ndepartures the porter lumbering past my door with bag\\ngage, which he thumped down upon the floors of neigh\\nboring chambers the lighter feet of chamber-maids\\nscudding along the passages it is ridiculous to thiuV", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0503.jp2"}, "502": {"fulltext": "174\\nVIE BLITHKDALE ROMANCE.\\nwhat an interest, they had for me From the street\\ncame the tumult of the pavements, pervading the whole\\nhouse with a continual uproar, so broad arid deep that\\nonly an unaccustomed ear would dwell upon it. A\\ncompany of the city soldiery, with a full military band\\nmarched in front of the hotel, invisible to me, but stir-\\nringly audible both by its foot-tramp and the clangor of\\nits instruments. Once or twice all the city bells jangled\\ntogether, announcing a fire, which brought out the\\nengine-men and their machines, like an army with its\\nartillery rushing to battle. Hour by hour the clocks in\\nmany steeples responded one to another. In some public\\nhall, not a great way off, there seemed to be an exhibi-\\ntion of a mechanical diorama for, three times during\\nthe day, occurred a repetition of obstreperous music,\\nwinding up with the rattle of imitative cannon and\\nmusketry, and a huge final explosion. Then ensued the\\napplause of the spectators, with clap of hands, and\\nthump of sticks, and the energetic pounding of thei*\\nheels. All this was just as valuable, in its way, as the\\nsighing of the breeze among the birch-trees that over-\\nshadowed Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit.\\nYet I felt a hesitation about plunging into this muddy\\nfide of human activity and pastime. It suited me better,\\nfor the present, to linger on the brink, or hover in the\\nair above it. So I spent the first day and the greater\\npart of the second in the laziest manner possible, in a\\nrocking-chair, inhaling the fragrance of a series of cigars\\nwith my legs and slippered feet horizontally disposed,\\nand in my hand a novel purchased of a railroad biblio\\npolist. The gradual waste of my cigar accomplished\\nitself with an easy and gentle expenditure of breath. My", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0504.jp2"}, "503": {"fulltext": "THE HOTEL.\\n175\\nbook was of ih? dullest, yet had a sort of sluggish flow,\\nlike that of a stream in which your boat is as often\\naground as afloat. Had there been a more impetuous\\nrush, a more absorbing passion of the narrative, I should\\nthe sooner have struggled out of its uneasy current, and\\nhave given myself up to the swell and subsidence of my\\nthoughts. But, as it was, the torpid life of the book\\nserved as an unobtrusive accompaniment to the life\\nwithin me and about me. At intervals, however, when\\nits effect grew a little too soporific, not for my\\npatience, but for the possibility of keeping my eyes open,\\nI bestirred myself, started from the rocking-chair, and\\nlooked out of the window.\\nA gray sky the weathercock of a steeple, that rose\\nbeyond the opposite range of buildings, pointing from the\\neastward a sprinkle of small, spiteful-looking raindrops\\non the window-pane. In that ebb-tide of my energies,\\nhad I thought of venturing abroad, these tokens would\\nhave checked the abortive purpose.\\nAfter several such visits to the window, 1 found\\nmyself getting pretty well acquainted with that little\\nportion of the backside of the universe which it presented\\nto my view. Over against the hotel and its adjacent\\nhouses, at the distance of forty or fifty yards, was the\\nrear of a range of buildings, which appeared to be\\nspacious, modern, and calculated for fashionable resi-\\ndences. The interval between was apportioned into\\ngrass-plots, and here and there an apology for a garden,\\npertaining severally to these dwellings. There were\\napple-trees, and pear and peach trees, too, the fruit on\\nwhich looked singularly large, luxuriant and alundant,\\nas well it n ight, in a stuation so warm and sheltered,", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0505.jp2"}, "504": {"fulltext": "*76 THE BLITHEOALb ROMANCE.\\nand where the soil had doubtless been enriched to a\\nmore than natural fertility. In two or three places\\ngrape-vines clambered upon trellises, and bore clusters\\nalready purple, and promising the richness of Malta or\\nMadeira in their ripened juice. The blighting winds of\\nour rigid climate could not molest these trees and vines\\nthe sunshine, though descending late into this area, and\\ntoo early intercepted by the height of the surrounding\\nhouses, yet lay tropically there, even when less than\\ntemperate in every other region. Dreary as was the\\nday, the scene was illuminated by not a few sparrows and\\nother birds, which spread their wings, and flitted and\\nfluttered, and alighted now here, now there, and busily\\nscratched their food out of the wormy earth. Most of\\nthese winged people seemed to have their domicile in a\\nrobust and healthy buttonwood-tree. It aspired upward,\\nhigh above the roof of the houses, and spread a dense\\nhead of foliage half across the area.\\nThere was a cat as there invariably is, in such\\nplaces who evidently thought herself entitled to all\\nthe privileges of forest-life, in this close heart of city\\nconventionalisms. I watched her creeping along the\\nlow, flat roofs of the offices, descending a flight of\\nwooden steps, gliding among the grass, and besieging\\nthe buttonwood-tree, with murderous purpose against its\\nfeathered citizens. But, after all, they were birds cf\\ncity breeding, and doubtless knew how to guard them\\nselves against the peculiar perils of their position.\\nBewitching to my fancy are all those nooks and cran\\nnies, where Nature, like a stray partridge, hides her head\\namong the long-established haunts of men It is like\\nwise U be remarked, a? a general rule, that there is fat", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0506.jp2"}, "505": {"fulltext": "THE HOTEL.\\n177\\nn.m of the picturesque, more truth to native and\\ncharacteristic tendencies, and vastly greater suggestive-\\nmss, in the back view of a residence, whether in town\\nor country, than in its front.* The latter is always arti-\\nficial it is meant for the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eye, and is therefore a\\nveil and a concealment. Realities keep in the rear, and\\nput forward an advance-guard of show and humbug.\\nThe posterior aspect of any old farm-house, behind which\\na railroad has unexpectedly been opened, is so different\\nfrom that looking upon the immemorial highway, that\\nthe spectator gets new ideas of rural life and individu-\\nality in the puff or two of steam-breath which shoots\\nhim past the premises. In a city, the distinction be-\\ntween what is offered to the public and what is kept for\\nthe family is certainly not less striking.\\nBut, to return to my window, at the back of the hotel.\\nTogether with a due contemplation of the fruit-trees\\nthe grape-vines, the buttonwood-tree, the cat, the birds\\nand many other particulars, I failed not to study the row\\nof fashionable dwellings to which all these appertained.\\nHere, it must be confessed, there was a general same-\\nness. From the upper story to the first floor, they were\\nso much alike, that I could only conceive of the inhab-\\nitants as cut out on one identical pattern, like little\\nwooden toy-people of German manufacture. One long,\\nunited roof, with its thousands of slates glittering in the\\nrain, extended over the whole. After the distinctness\\nof separate characters to which I had recently been\\naccustomed, it perplexed and annoyed me not to be able\\nto resolve this combination of human interests into well-\\ndefined elements. It seemed hardly worth while for\\nmore than one of those families to be in existence, since\\n12", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0507.jp2"}, "506": {"fulltext": "ITS\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nthey ail had the *ime glimpse of the sky, aL .ooked into\\nthe same area, all received just their equal share of sun\\nshine through the front windows, and all listened to\\nprecisely the same noises of the street on which they\\nboarded. Men are so much alike in their nature, that\\nthey grow intolerable unless varied by their circum-\\nstances.\\nJust about this time, a waiter entered my room. The\\ntruth was, I had rung the bell and ordered a sherry-\\ncobbler.\\nCan you tell me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I inquired, what families reside\\nin any of those houses opposite V\\nThe one right opposite is a rather stylish boarding-\\nhouse,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the waiter. \u00e2\u0080\u009cTwo of the gentlemen-\\nboarders keep horses at the stable of our establishment.\\nThey do things in very good style, sir, the people that\\nlive there.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI might have found out nearly as much for myself, on\\nexamining the house a little more closely. In one of\\nthe upper chambers I saw a young man in a dressing-\\ngown, standing before the glass and brushing his hair,\\nfor a quarter of an hour together. He then spent ar.\\nequal space of time in the elaborate arrangement of his\\ncravat, and finally made his appearance in a dress-coat,\\nwhich I suspected to be newly come from the tailor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s,\\nand now first put on for a dinner-party. At a window\\nof die next story below, two children, prettily dressed,\\nwere looking out. By and by, a middle-aged gentleman\\ncame softly behind them, kissed the little girl, and play-\\nfully pulled the little boy\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ear. It was a papa, no\\ndoubt, just come in from his counting-room 01 office\\nand anon appeared mamma, stealing as softly behind", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0508.jp2"}, "507": {"fulltext": "THE HOTEL.\\n179\\npapa .is he ha I stolen behind the children, and laying\\nher hand on his shoulder, to surprise him. Then fob\\nlowed a kiss between papa and mamma but a noiseless\\none, for the children did not turn their heads.\\nI bless God for these good folks thought I to my-\\nse.f. \u00e2\u0080\u009cI have not seen a prettier bit of nature, in a.1\\nmy summer in the country, than they have shown me\\nhere, in a rather stylish boarding-house. I will pay\\nthem a little more attention, by and by.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nOn the first floor, an iron balustrade ran along in\\nfront of the tall and spacious -windows, evidently belong-\\ning to a back drawing-room and, far into the interior,\\nthrough the arch of the sliding-doors, I could discern a\\ngleam from the windows of the front apartment. There\\nwere no signs of present occupancy in this suite of rooms\\nthe curtains being enveloped in a protective covering,\\nwhich allowed but a small portion of their crimson mate-\\nrial to be seen. But two housemaids were industriously at\\nwork so that there was good prospect that the boarding-\\nlouse might not long suffer from the absence of its most\\nexpensive and profitable guests. Meanwhile, until they\\nshould appear, I cast my eyes downward to the lower\\nregions. There, in the dusk that so early settles into\\nsuch places, I saw the red glow of the kitchen-range.\\nThe hot cook, or one of her subordinates, with a ladle in\\nher hand, came to draw a cool breath at the back-door.\\nAs soon as she disappeared, an Irish man-servant, in a\\nwhite jacket, crept slyly forth, and threw away the frag-\\nments of a china dish, which, unquestionably, he had\\njust broken. Soon afterwards, a lady, showily dressed,\\nwith a curling front of what must have been false hair,\\n\u00c2\u00abrd reddish-brown, I suppose, in hue though my", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0509.jp2"}, "508": {"fulltext": "180\\nTHE BL1THEDALE ROMANCE.\\nremoteness allowed me only to guess at such particulars\\nthis respectable mistress of the boarding-house made\\na momentary transit across the kitchen window, and\\nappeared no more. I* was her final, comprehensive\\nglance, in order to make sure that soup, fish and flesh\\nwere in a proper state of readiness, before the serving up\\nof dinner.\\nThere was nothing else worth noticing about the\\nhouse, unless it be that on the peak of one of the\\ndormer-windows which opened out of the roof sat a\\ndove, looking very dreary and forlorn insomuch that I\\nwondered why she chose to sit there, in the chilly rain,\\nwhile her kindred were doubtless nestling in a warm and\\ncomfortable dove-cote. All at once, this dove spread her\\nwings, and, launching herself in the air, came flying so\\nstraight across the intervening space that I fully expected\\nhe r to alight directly on my window-sill. In the latter\\npart of her course, however, she swerved aside, flew\\nupward, and vanished, as did, likewise, the slight, fan*\\ntastic pathos with which I had invested her.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0510.jp2"}, "509": {"fulltext": "XVIII.\\nTHE BOARDING-HOUSE.\\nThe next day, as soon as I thought of looking again\\ntowards the opposite house, there sat the dove again, on\\nthe peak of the same dormer-window\\nIt was by no means an early hour, for, the preceding\\nEvening, I had ultimately mustered enterprise enough\\nto visit the theatre, had gone late to bed, and slept\\nbeyond all limit, in my remoteness from Silas Foster\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nawakening horn. Dreams had tormented me, through-\\nout the night. The train of thoughts which, for months\\npast, had worn a track through my mind, and to escape\\nwhich was one of my chief objects in leaving Blithedale,\\nkept treading remorselessly to and fro in their old foot-\\nsteps, while slumber left me impotent to regulate them.\\nIt was not till I had quitted my three friends that they\\nfirst began to encroach upon my dreams. In those of\\nthe last night, Hollingsworth and Zenobia, standing on\\neither side of my bed, had bent across it to exchange a\\nkiss of passion. Priscilla, beholding this, for she\\nueem^d to be peeping in at the chamber-window, had\\nmelted gradually away, and left only the sadness of hei\\nexpression in my heart. There it still lingered, after 1\\nawoke one of those unreasonable sadnesses that you\\nknow not how to deal with, because it involves nothing\\nfor common sense to clutch.\\nIt was a gray and dripping forenoon gloomy enough", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0511.jp2"}, "510": {"fulltext": "182\\nTHE BLITHED.fi. IE ROMANCE.\\nin town, and still gloomier in the haunts to which my\\nrecollections persisted in transporting me. For, in spite\\nof my efforts to think of something else, I thought how\\nthe gusty rain was drifting over the slopes and valleys\\nof our farm how wet must be the foliage that over-\\nshadowed the pulpit-rock how cheerless, in such a day,,\\nmy hermitage, the tree-solitude of my owl-like hu-\\nmors, in the vine-encircled heart of the tall p. ne It\\nwas a phase of home-sickness. I had wrenched myself\\ntoo suddenly out of an accustomed sphere. There was\\nno choice, now, but to bear the pang of whatever heart-\\nstrings were snapt asunder, and that illusive torment\\n(like the ache of a limb long ago cut off) by which a\\npast mode of life prolongs itself into the succeeding one.\\nI was full of idle and shapeless regrets. The thought\\nimpressed itself upon me that I had left duties unper-\\nformed. With the power, perhaps, to act in the place\\nof destiny and avert misfortune from my friends, I had\\nresigned them to their fate. That cold tendency, be-\\ntween instinct and intellect, which made me pry with a\\nspeculative interest into people\u00e2\u0080\u0099s passions and impulses,\\nappeared to have gone far towards unhumanizing my\\n1. eart.\\nBut a man cannot always decide for himself whether\\nhis own heart is cold or warm. It now impresses me\\nthat, if I erred at all in regard to Hollingsworth, Zeno-\\noia and Priscilla, it was through too much sympathy,\\nrather than .oo little.\\nTo escape the irksomeness of these meditations, I\\nresumed my post at the window. At first sight, there\\nwas nothing new to be noticed. The general aspect of\\naffairs was the same as yesterday, except that the more", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0512.jp2"}, "511": {"fulltext": "THE BOARDING HOUSE.\\n183\\ndecided inclemency of to-day had driven the sparrow s to\\nshelter, and kept the cat within doors; whence, how-\\never, she soon emerged, pursued by the cook, and with\\nwhat looked like the better half of a roast chicken in\\nher mouth. The young man in the dress-coat was invis-\\nible the two children, in the story below, seemed to be\\nromping about the room, under the superintendence of a\\nnursery-maid. The damask curtains of the drawing-\\nroom, on the first floor, were now fully displayed, fes-\\ntooned gracefully from top to bottom of the. windows,\\nwhich extended from the ceiling to the carpet. A nar-\\nrower window, at the left of the drawing-room, gave\\nlight to what was probably a small boudoir, within which\\n1 caught the faintest imaginable glimpse of a girl\u00e2\u0080\u0099s figure,\\nin airy drapery. Her arm was in regular movement, as\\nif she were busy with her German worsted, or some\\nother such pretty and unprofitable handiwork.\\nWhile intent upon making out this girlish shape, 1\\nbecame sensible that a figure had appeared at one of the\\nwindows of the drawing-room. There was a present-\\niment in my mind or perhaps my first glance, imper-\\nfect and sidelong as it was, had sufficed to convey subtle\\ninformation of the truth. At any rate, it was with no\\npositive surprise, but as if I had all along expected the\\nincident, that, directing my eyes thitherward, I beheld\\nlike a full-length picture, in the space between the heavy\\nfestoons of the window-curtains no other than Zeno-\\nbia At the same instant, my thoughts made sure of\\nthe identity of the figure in the bciido r. It could only\\nbe Priscilla.\\nZenobia was attired, not in the almost rustic costume\\nwhich she had he-retofore worn, but in a fashionab\u00e2\u0080\u0099e", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0513.jp2"}, "512": {"fulltext": "184\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nmorning-dress. There was, nevertheless, on 3 familiar\\npoint. She had, as usual, a flower in her hair, brilliant\\nand of a rare variety, else it had not been Zenobia.\\nAfter a brief pause at the window, she turned away,\\nexemplifying, in the few steps that removed her out of\\nsight, that noble and beautiful motion which character-\\nized her as much as any other personal charm. Not\\none woman in a thousand could move so admirably as\\nZenobia. Many women can sit gracefully some can\\nstand gracefully; and a few, perhaps, can assume a\\nseries of graceful positions. But natural movement is\\nthe result and expression of the whole being, and cannot\\nbe well and nobly performed, unless responsive to some-\\nthing in the character. I often used to think that music\\n-light and airy, wild and passionate, or the full har-\\nmony of stately marches, in accordance with her varying\\nmood should have attended Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s footsteps.\\nI waited for her reappearance. It was one peculiarity,\\ndistinguishing Zenobia from most of her sex, that she\\nneeded for her moral well-being, and never would forego,\\na large amount of physical exercise. At Blithedale, no\\ninclem mcy of sky or muddiness of earth had ever im\\npeded her daily walks.. Here, in town, she probably\\npreferred to tread the extent of the two drawing-rooms\\nand measure out the miles by spaces of forty feet, rather\\nthan bedmggle her skirts over the sloppy pavements.\\nAccordingly, m about the time requisite to pass through\\nthe arch of the sliding-doors to the front window, and to\\nreturn upon her ^teps, there she stood again, between the\\nfestoons of the rimson curtains. But another person-\\nage was now ad^ed to the scene. Behind Zenobia\\nappeared that facn wh ch 1 h^ fi^.t eoco\u00e2\u0080\u0099-oter-^a in the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0514.jp2"}, "513": {"fulltext": "TITE BOARDING-FOUSE\\n1S5\\nwood-path the man who had passed, side by side with\\nher, in such mysteiious familiarity and estrangement,\\nbeneath my vine-curtained hermitage in the tall pine-\\ntree. It was Westervelt. And though he was looking\\nclosely over her shoulder, it still seemed to me, as m the\\nformer occasion, that Zenobia repelled him, that, per-\\nchance, they mutually repelled each other, by some\\nincompatibility of their spheres.\\nThis impression, however, might have been altogether\\nthe result of fancy and prejudice in me. The distance\\nwas so great as to obliterate any play of feature by\\nwhich I might otherwise have been made a partaker of\\ntheir counsels.\\nThere now needed only Hollingsworth and old Moodie\\nto complete the knot of characters, whom a real intricacy\\nof events, greatly assisted by my method of insulating\\nthem from other relations, had kept so long upon my\\nmental stage, as actors in a drama. In itself, perhaps,\\nit was no very remarkable event that they should thus\\ncome across me, at the moment when I imagined myself\\nfree. Zenobia, as I well knew, had retained an estab-\\nlishment in town, and had not unfrequently withdrawn\\nherself from Blithedale during brief intervals, on one\\nof which occasions she had taken Priscilla along with\\nher. Nevertheless, there seemed something fatal in the\\ncoincidence that had borne me to this one spot, of all\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2others in a great city, and transfixed me there, and com-\\npelled me again to waste my already wearied sympathies\\non affairs which were none of m. ne, and peisons who\\ncared little for me. It irritated my nerves it affected\\nme with a kind of heart-sickness. After the effort which\\nit cost ine to fling them off, after consummating my", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0515.jp2"}, "514": {"fulltext": "IS fj\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nescape, as 1 thought, from these goblins of flesh xnu\\nblood, and pausing to revive myself with a breath or two\\nof an atmosphere in which they should have no share,\\nit was a positive despair, to find the same figures\\narraying themselves before me, and presenting their old\\nproblem in a shape that made it more insoluble than\\never.\\nI began to long for a catastrophe. If the noble tem-\\nper of Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s soul were doomed to be utterly\\ncorrupted by the too powerful purpose which had grown\\nout of what was noblest in him if the rich and gener-\\nous qualities of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s womanhood might not savo\\nher; if Priscilla must perish by her tenderness and\\nfaith, so simple and so devout, then be it so Let it\\nall come As for me, I would look on, as it seemed my\\npart to do, understanding^, if my intellect could fathom\\nthe meaning and the moral, and, at all events, reverently\\nand sadly. The curtain fallen, I would pass onward\\nwith my poor individual life, which was now attenuatea\\nof much of its proper substance, and diffused among\\nmany alien interests.\\nMeanwhile, Zenobia and her companion had retreated\\nfrom the window. Then followed an interval, during\\nwhich I directed my eyes towards the figure in the bou-\\ndoir. Most certainly it was Priscilla, although dressed\\nwith a novel and fanciful elegance. The vague percep-\\ntion of it, as viewed so far off, impressed me as if she.\\nhad suddenly passed out of a. chrysalis state and put\\nforth wings. Her hands were not now in motion. She\\nhad dropt her work, and sat with her head thrown back,\\nin the same attitude that I had seen several times before?", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0516.jp2"}, "515": {"fulltext": "THE BOARDING-HOUSE.\\n18 T\\nfcnen she seemed to be listening to an impel fectly dis-\\ntinguished sound.\\nAgain the two figures in the drawing-room became\\nvisible. They were now a little withdrawn from the\\nwindow, face to face, and, as I could see by Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nemphatic gestures, were discussing some subject in which\\nshe, at least, felt a passionate concern. By and by she\\nbroke away, and vanished beyond my ken. Wester-\\nveit approached the window, and leaned his forehead\\nagainst a pane of glass, displaying the sort of smile on\\nhis handsome features which, when I before met him,\\nhad let me into the secret of his gold-bordered teeth.\\nEvery human being, when given over to the devil, is\\nsure to have the wizard mark upon him, in one form or\\nanother. I fancied that this smile, with its peculiar\\nrevelation, was the devil\u00e2\u0080\u0099s signet on the Professor.\\nThis man, as I had soon reason to know, was endowed\\nwith a cat-like circumspection and though precisely the\\nmost unspiritual quality in the world, it was almost as\\neffective as spiritual insight in making him acquainted\\nwith whatever it suited him to discover. He now\\nproved it, considerably to my discomfiture, by detecting\\nand recognizing me, at my post of observation. Per-\\nhaps I ought to have blushed at being caught in such an\\nevident scrutiny of Professor Westervelt and his affairs.\\nPerhaps I did blush. Be that as it might, I retained pres-\\nence of mind enough not to make my position yet mo e\\nirksome, by the poltroonery of drawing back.\\nWestervelt looked into the depths of the drawing-room,\\nand beckoned. Immediately afterwards, Zenobia ap-\\npeared at the window, with color much heightened, and\\neyes which, as my conscienci whispered me were shoofc", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0517.jp2"}, "516": {"fulltext": "IBS\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\ning bright arrows, barbed with scorn, across the inter\\nvening space, directed full at my sensibilities as a gen\\ntleman. If the trutn must be told, far as her flight-shot\\nwas, those arrows hit the mark. She signified her\\nrecognition ol me by a gesture with her head and hand,\\ncomprising at once a salutation and dismissal. The\\nnext moment, she administered one of those pitiless\\nrebukes which a woman always has at hand, ready for\\nan offence (and which she so seldom spares, on due\\noccasion), by letting down a white linen curtain between\\nthe festoons of the damask ones. It fell like the drop-\\ncurtain of a theatre, in the interval between the acts\\nPriscilla had disappeared from the boudoir. But the\\ndove still kept I.er desolate perch on the peak of the\\nattic-window.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0518.jp2"}, "517": {"fulltext": "XIX.\\nZENOBI .VS DRAWING-BOOM.\\nThe remainder of tne day, so far as I was concerned,\\nwas spent in meditating- on these recent incidents. 1\\ncontrived, and alternately rejected, innumerable methods\\nof accounting for the presence of Zenobia and Priscilla,\\nand the connection of Westervelt with both. It must\\nbe owned, loo, that I had a keen, revengeful sense of\\nthe insult inflicted by Zenobia \u00e2\u0080\u0099s scornful recognition,\\nand more particularly by her letting down the curtain,\\nas if such were the proper barrier to be interposed\\nbetween a character like hers and a perceptive faculty\\nlikf mine. For, was mine a mere vulgar curiosity\\nZenobia should have known me better than to suppose\\nit. She should have been able to appreciate that quality\\nof the intellect and the heart which impelled me (often\\nagainst my own will, and to the detriment of my own\\ncomfort) to live in other lives, and to endeavor by\\ngenerous sympathies, by delicate intuitions, by taking\\nnote of things too slight for record, and by bringing my\\nhuman spirit into manifold accordance with the compan\\nions whom God assigned me to learn the secret which\\nwas hidden even from themselves.\\nOf all possible observers, methought a woman like\\nZenobia and a man like Hollingsworth should have\\nselected me. And, now, when the event has long been\\npast, 1 retain the same opinion of my fitness for the", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0519.jp2"}, "518": {"fulltext": "9C\\nTHE ^BLITIIEDALE ROMANCE.\\noffice True, I might have condemned them. Had I\\nbeen judge, as well as witness, my sentence might hare\\nbeen stern as that of destiny itself. But, still, no trait\\nof original nobility of character, no struggle against\\ntemptation, no iron necessity of will, on the one hand,\\nnor extenuating circumstance to be derived from passion\\nand despair, on the other, no remorse that might coexist\\nwith error, even if powerless to prevent it, no proud\\nrepentance that should claim retribution as a meed,\\nwould go unappreciated. True, again, I might give my\\nfull assent to the punishment which was sure to follow.\\nBut it w T ould be given mournfully, and with undimin-\\nished love. And, after all was finished, I would come,\\nas if to gather up the white ashes of those who had per*\\nished at the stake, and to tell the world the wrong\\nbeing now atoned for how much had perished there\\nwhich it had never yet known how to praise.\\nI sat in my rocking-chair, too far withdrawn from\\nthe window to expose myself to another rebuke like\\nthat already inflicted. My eyes still wandered towards\\nthe opposite house, but without effecting any new dis-\\ncoveries. Late in the afternoon, the weathercock on the\\nchurch-spire indicated a change of wind the sun shone\\nlimly out, as if the golden wine of its beams were min-\\ngled half-and-half with water. Nevertheless, they kin-\\ndled up the whole range of edifices, threw a glow over\\nthe windows glistened on the wet roofs, and, slowly\\nwithdrawing upward, perched upon the chimney-tops\\nthence they took a higher flight, and lingered an instant\\non the tip of the spire, making it the final pc int of more\\ncheerful light in the whole sombre scene. The next\\nmoment it was all gone. The twilight fell into the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0520.jp2"}, "519": {"fulltext": "zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s drawing-room.\\n19\\nurea like a shower of dusky snow and before it was\\nnuite lark, the gong of the hotel summoned me to tea.\\nWhen I returned to my chamber, the glow of an\\nastral-lamp was penetrating mistily through the white\\ncurtain of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s drawing-room. The shadow of a\\npassing figure was now and then cast upon this medium,\\nbut with too vague an outline for even my adventurous\\nconjectures to read the hieroglyphic that it presented.\\nAll at once, it occurred to me how very absurd was\\nmy behavior, in thus tormenting myself with crazy\\nhypotheses as to what was going on within that drawing-\\nroom, when it was at my option to be personally present\\nthere. My relations with Zenobia, as yet unchanged,\\nas a familiar friend, and associated in the same life-long\\nenterprise, gave me the right, and made it no more\\nthan kindly courtesy demanded, to call on her. Noth-\\ning, except our habitual independence of conventional\\nrules at Blithedale, could have kept me from sooner\\nrecognizing this duty. At all events, it should now be\\nperformed.\\nIn compliance with this sudden impulse, I soon found\\nmyself actually within the house, the rear of which, for\\ntwo days past, I had been so sedulously watching. A\\nservant took my card, and immediately returning, ush-\\nered me up stairs. On the way, I heard a rich, and, as\\nit were, triumphant burst of music from a piano, in which\\nI felt Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character, although heretofore J had\\nknown nothing of her skill upon the instrument. Two\\nor three canary-birds, excited by this gush of sound,\\nsang piercingly, and did their utmost to produce a kin-\\ndred melody A bright illumination streamed through\\n4ie door of the front drawing-room and I had barely", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0521.jp2"}, "520": {"fulltext": "192\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nstept across the threshold before Zenobia came forward\\nto meet me, laughing, and with an extended hand.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAh, Mr. Coverdale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, still smiling, but, as I\\nthought, with a good deal of scornful anger underneath,\\nit has gratified me to see the interest which you con-\\ntinue to take in my affairs I have long recognized\\nyou as a sort of transcendental Yankee, with all the\\nnative propensity of your countrymen to investigate\\nmatters that come within their range, but rendered\\nalmost poetical, in your case, by the refined methods\\nwhich you adopt for its gratification. After all, it was\\nan unjustifiable stroke, on my part, was it not to\\nlet down the window-curtain\\nI cannot call it a very wise one,\u00e2\u0080\u009d returned I, with a\\nsecret bitterness, which, no doubt, Zenobia appreciated.\\nIt is really impossible to hide anything, in this world,\\nto say nothing of the next. All that we ought to ask,\\ntherefore, is, that the witnesses of our conduct, and the\\nspeculators on our motives, should be capable of taking\\nthe highest view which the circumstances of the case\\nmay admit. So much being secured, I, for one, would\\nbe most happy in feeling myself followed everywhere\\nby an indefatigable human sympathy.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWe must trust for intelligent sympathy to our\\nguardian angels, if any there be,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia. As\\nlong as the only spectator of my poor tragedy is a\\nyoung man at the window of his hotel, I must still\\nclaim the liberty to drop the curtain.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhile this passed, as Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hand was extended, l\\nhad applied the very slightest touch of my fingers to\\nher own. In spite of an external freedom, her manner\\nmade me sensible hat we stood upon no real terras of", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0522.jp2"}, "521": {"fulltext": "zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s drawing-room.\\n19M\\nconfidence. The thought came sadly across me, how\\ngreat was the contrast betwixt this interview and our\\nfirst meeting. Then, in the warm light of the country\\nfireside, Zenobia had greeted me cheerily and hopefully,\\nwith a full, sisterly grasp of the hand, conveying as much\\nkindness in it as other women could have evinced tty\\nthe pressure of both arms around my neck, or by yield-\\ning a cheek to the brotherly salute. The difference was\\nas complete as between her appearance at that time, so\\nsimply attired, and with only the one superb flower in her\\nhair, and now, when her beauty was set off by all that\\ndress and ornament could do for it. And they did much.\\nNot, indeed, that they created or added anything to what\\nNature had lavishly done for Zenobia. But, those\\ncostly robes which she had on, those flaming jewels on\\nher neck, served as lamps to display the personal advan-\\ntages wnich required nothing less than such ari illumi-\\nnation to be fully seen. Even her characteristic flower\\nthough it seemed to be still there, had undergone a cold\\nand bright transfiguration it was a flower exquisitely\\nimitated in jeweller\u00e2\u0080\u0099s work, and imparting the last\\ntouch that transformed Zenobia into a work of art.\\nI scarcely feel,\u00e2\u0080\u0099 I could not forbear saying, \u00e2\u0080\u009cas if we\\nhad ever met before. How many years ago it seems\\nsince we last sat beneath Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit, with Hollings-\\nworth extended on the fallen leaves, and Priscilla at his\\nfeet Can it be, Zenobia, that you ever really numbered\\nyourself with our little band of earnest, thoughtful, phi-\\nlanthropic aborers\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThose ideas have their time and place,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she an-\\nswered, coldly. But I fancy it must be a ve rycircum\\nscribed mind that can find room for no otherc.\\n13", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0523.jp2"}, "522": {"fulltext": "194\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE\\nHer manner bewildered me. Literally, moreover, 1\\nwas dazzled by the brilliancy of the room. A chandelier\\nhung down in the centre, glowing with I know not how\\nmany lights there were septate lamps, also, on two or\\nthree tables, and on marble brackets, adding their white\\nradiance to that of the chandelier. The furniture was\\nexceedingly rich. Fresh from our old farm-house, with\\nits homely board and benches in the dining-room, and a\\nfew wicker chairs in th? best parlor, it struck me that\\nhere was the fulfilment of every fantasy of an imagina-\\ntion revelling in various methods of costly self indu\\ngence and splendid ease. Pictures, marbles, vases, in\\nbrief, more shapes of luxury than there could be any\\nobject in enumerating, except for an auctioneer\u00e2\u0080\u0099s adver-\\ntisement, and the whole repeated and doubled by\\nthe reflection of a great mirror, which showed me Zeno-\\nbia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s proud figure, likewise, and my own. It cost me, I\\nacknowledge, a bitter sense of shame, to perceive in\\nmyself a positive effort to bear up against the effect\\nwhich Zenobia sought to impose on me. I reasoned\\nagainst her, in my secret mind, and strove so to keep\\nmy footing. In the gorgeousness with which she had\\nsurrounded herself, in the redundance of personal orna*\\nment, which the largeness of her physical nature and the\\nrich type of her beauty caused to seem so suitable, I\\nmalevolently beheld the true character of the woman,\\npassionate, luxurious, lacking simplicity, not deeply\\nrefined, incapable of pure and perfect taste.\\nBut, the next instant, she was too powerful fo r all my\\nopposing struggles. I saw how fit it was that she\\nshould make herself as gorgeous as she pleased, and\\nshotud do a thousand things that would have been ridic\\nulous in the poor. thin, weakly characters of oU*p*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0524.jp2"}, "523": {"fulltext": "ZENOBIA S DRAWING-ROOM.\\n195\\nwomen. To this day, however, I hardly know whethei\\nI then beheld Zenobia in her truest attitude, or whether\\nthat were the truer one in which she had presented her-\\nself at Bliihedale. In both, there was something like\\nthe illusion which a great actress flings around her.\\nHave you given up Blithedale forever I inquired.\\nWhy should you think so asked she.\\nI cannot tell,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered I except that it appears\\nall like a dream that we were ever there together.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0098\u00e2\u0080\u0098It is not so to me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia. \u00e2\u0080\u009cI should think\\nit a poor and meagre nature, that is capable of but one\\nset of forms, and must convert all the past into a dream\\nmerely because the present happens to be unlike it.\\nWHy should we be content with our homely life of a\\nfew months past, to the exclusion of all other modes I*\\nwas good but there are other lives as good, or better\\nNot, you will understand, that I condemn those who give\\nthemselves up to it more entirely than I, for myself,\\nshould deem it wise to do.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIt irritated me, this self-complacent, condescending\\nqualified approval and criticism of a system to which\\nmany individuals perhaps as highly endowed as our\\ngorgeous Zenobia had contributed their all of earthly\\nendeavor, and their loftiest aspirations. I determined to\\nmake proof if there were any spell that would exorcise\\nher out of the part which she seemed to be acting. She\\nshould be compelled to give me a glimpse of something\\ntrue; some nature, some passion, no matter whether\\nright or wrong, provided it were rea\\nYour allusion tc that class of circumscribed charac-\\nters, who can live only in one mode of life,\u00e2\u0080\u009d remarked I\\ncoolly, reminds me of our poor friend Hollingsworth.\\nI ossibly he was in your thoughts when you spoke thu\u00c2\u00bb", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0525.jp2"}, "524": {"fulltext": "196\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nPoor fellow! It is a pity that, by the fault of a narrow\\neducation, he should have so completely immolated him\\nself to that one idea of his especially as the slightest\\nmodicum of common sense would teach him its utter\\nimpracticability. Now that I have returned into (he\\nworld, and can look at his project from a distance, it\\nrequires quite all my real regard for this respectable and\\nwell-intentioned man, to prevent me laughing at him.\\nas I find society at large does.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nZenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eyes darted lightning; her cheeks flushed;\\nthe vividness of her expression was like the effect of a\\npowerful light flaming up suddenly within her. My\\nexperiment had fully succeeded. She had shown me\\nthe true flesh and blood of her heart, by thus involunta-\\nrily resenting my slight, pitying, half-kind, half-scornful\\nmention of the man who was all in all with her. She\\nherself probably felt this for it was hardly a moment\\nbefore she tranquillized her uneven breath, and seemed\\nas proud and self-possessed as ever.\\nI rather imagine,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, quietly, that your\\nappreciation falls short of Mr. Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s just\\nclaims. Blind enthusiasm, absorption in one idea, I\\ngrant, is generally ridiculous, and must be fatal to the\\nrespectability of an ordinary man; it requires a very\\nhigh and powerful character to make it otherwise. But\\na great man as, perhaps, you do not know attains\\nhis normal condition only through the inspiration of one\\ngreat idea. As a friend of Mr. Hollingsworth, and, at\\nthe same time, a calm observer, I must tell you that he\\nseems to me such a man. But you are very pardonable\\nfor fancying him ridiculous. Doubtless, he is so to\\nyou There can be no truer test of the noble and\\nheroic, in any indiAidual, than the degree in which he", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0526.jp2"}, "525": {"fulltext": "zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s drawing-boom.\\n197\\n[tosscsses the faculty of distinguishing heroism from\\nabsurdity.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI dared make nc retort to Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s concluding apo-\\nthegm. In truth, I admired her fidelity. It gave me a\\nnew sense of Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s native power, to discover\\nthat his influence was no less potent with this beautifu\\nwoman, here, in the midst of artificial life, than it had\\nbeen at the foot of the gray rock, and among the wild\\nbirch-trees of the wood-path, when she so passionately\\npressed his hand against her heart. The great, rude,\\nshaggy, swarthy man And Zenobia loved him 1\\nDid you bring Priscilla with you I resumed.\\nDo you know 1 have sometimes fancied it not quite\\nsafe, considering the susceptibility of her temperament,\\nthat she should be so constantly within the sphere of a\\nman like Hollingsworth. Such tender and delicate\\nnatures, among your sex, have often, I believe, a very\\nadequate appreciation of the heroic element in men.\\nBut then, again, I should suppose them as likely as any\\nother women to make a reciprocal impression. Hollings-\\nworth could hardly give his affections to a person capa-\\nble of taking an independent stand, but only to one whom\\nhe might absorb into himself. He has certainly shown\\ngreat tenderness for Priscilla.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nZenobia had turned aside. But I caught the reflection\\nof her face in the mirror, and saw that it was very pale,\\nas pale, in her rich attire, as if a shroud were round her.\\nPriscilla is here,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, her voice a little lower\\nthin usual. Have not you learnt as much from your\\nchamber window Would you like to see her\\nShe made a step or two into the back drawing-room,\\nand called,\\nPriscilla Dear Priscilla w", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0527.jp2"}, "526": {"fulltext": "XX.\\nTHEY VANISH.\\nPriscii^. immediately answered the summons, and\\nmade her appearance through the djor of the boudoir.\\nI had conceived tue idea, which I now recognized as a\\nvery foolish one, that Zenobia would have taken meas-\\nures to debar me from an interview with this girl, be-\\ntween whom and herself there was so utter an opposition\\nof their dearest interests, that, on one part or the other, a\\ngreat grief, if not likewise a great wrong, seemed a mat-\\nter of necessity. But, as Priscilla was only a leaf float-\\ning on the dark current of events, without influencing\\nthem by her own choice or plan, as she probably\\nguessed not whither the stream was bearing her, nor\\nperhaps even felt its inevitable movement, there could\\nbe no peril of her communicating to me any intelligence\\nwith regard to Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s purposes.\\nOn perceiving me, she came forward with great quiet-\\nude of manner and when I held out my hand, her owr\\nmoved slightly towards it, as if attracted by a feeble\\ndegree of magnetism.\\nI am glad to see you, my dear Priscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, still\\nHolding her hand but everything that I meet with\\nnow-a-days, makes me wonder whether I am awake.\\nYou, especially, have always seemed like a figure in a\\niream, and now more than ever.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nO, t/iere is substance in these fingers of mine,\u00e2\u0080\u009d sh#", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0528.jp2"}, "527": {"fulltext": "THE If VANISH.\\n199\\nanswered, giving my hand the faintest possible pressure,\\nand then taking away her own. Why do you call me\\na dream Zenobia is much more like one than I she\\nis so very, very beautiful And, I suppose,\u00e2\u0080\u009d added Pris*\\ncilia, as if thinking aloud, \u00e2\u0080\u009ceverybody sees it, as I do.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nBut, for my part, it was Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s beauty, not Zeno*\\nbia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, of which I was thinking at that moment. She\\nwas a person who could be quite obliterated, so far as\\nbeauty went, by anything unsuitable in her attire her\\ncharm was not positive and material enough to bear up\\nagainst a mistaken choice of color, for instance, or fash-\\nion. It was safest, in her case, to attempt no art of\\ndress for it demanded the most perfect taste, or else\\nthe happiest accident in the world, to give her precisely\\nthe adornment which she needed. She was now dressed\\nin pure white, set off with some kind of a gauzy fabric,\\nwhich as I bring up her figure in my memory, with a\\nfaint gleam on her shadowy hair, and her dark eyes bent\\nshyly on mine, through all the vanished years seems\\nto be floating about her like a mist. I wondered what\\nZenobia meant by evolving so much loveliness out of\\nthis poor girl. It was what few women could afford to\\ndo for, as I looked from one to the other, the sheen and\\nsplendor of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s presence took nothing from Pris-\\ncilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s softer spell, if it might not rather be thought to\\nadd to it.\\nWhat do you think of her asked Zenobia.\\nI could not understand the look of melancholy kind-\\nness with which Zenobia regarded her. She advanced a\\nstep, and beckoning Priscilla near her, kissed her cheek\\nthen, with a \u00c2\u00ablight gesture of repulse, she moved to the\\nother side of the room. I followed.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0529.jp2"}, "528": {"fulltext": "00\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCfc\\nShe is h w onderful creature,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I said. Ever since\\nthe came among us, I have been dimly sensible of just\\nthis charm which you have brought out. But it was\\nnever absolutely visible till now. She is as lovely as a\\nflower\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2\u00e2\u0080\u0098Well \u00c2\u00abay so .if you like,\u00e2\u0080\u0099 answered Zenobia. \u00e2\u0080\u009cYou\\nare a poet, at least, as poets go, now-a-days, and\\nmust be allowed to make an opera-glass of your imagin-\\nation, when you look at women. I wonder, in such Ar-\\ncadian freedom of railing in love as we have lately\\nenjoyed, it never occurred to you to fall in love with\\nPriscilla. In society, indeed, a genuine American never\\ndreams of stepping across the inappreciable air-line which\\nseparates one class from another. But what was rank\\nto the colonists of Blithedale\\nThere were other reasons,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I replied, why 1 should\\nhave demonstrated myself an ass, had I fallen in love\\nwith Priscilla. By the by, has Hollingsworth ever seen\\nher in this dress\\nWhy do you bring up his name at every turn\\nasked Zenobia, in an under tone, and with a malign look\\nwhich wandered from my face to Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s. \u00e2\u0080\u009cYou\\nknow not what you do It is dangerous, sir, believe\\nme, to tamper thus with earnest human passions, out of\\nvour own mere idleness, and for your sport. I will\\n9ndure it no longer! Take care that it does not happen\\nagain I warn you\\nYou partly wrong me, if not wholly,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I responded.\\nIt is an uncertain sense of some duty to perform, that\\nrings my thoughts, and therefore niy words, continually\\no wat one point.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nO this stale excuse of duty said Zenobia, in a whis-", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0530.jp2"}, "529": {"fulltext": "THEY VANISH\\n201\\nper so full of scorn that it penetrated me like the hiss of\\na serpent. I have often heard it before, from those who\\nsought to interfere with me, and I know precisely what\\nitsignifies. Bigotry self-conceit an insolent curiosity;\\na meddlesome temper; a cold-blooded criticism, founded\\non a shallow interpretation of half-perceptions; a mon-\\nstrous scepticism in regard to any conscience or any wis-\\ndom, except one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s own a most irreverent propensity to\\nthrust Providence aside, and substitute one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s self in its\\nawful place; out of these, and other motives as miser-\\nable as these, comes your idea of duty But, beware,\\nsir! With all your fancied acuteness, you step blind-\\nfold into these affairs. For any mischief that may\\nfollow your interference, I hold you responsible\\nIt was evident that, with but a little further provoca-\\ntion, the lioness would turn to bay if, indeed, such were\\nnot her attitude already. I bowed, and, not very well\\nknowing what else to do, was about to withdraw. But,\\nglancing again towards Priscilla, who had retreated into\\na comer, there fell upon my heart an intolerable burthen\\nof despondency, the purport of which I could not tell,\\nbut only felt it to bear reference to her. I approached\\nher, and held out my hand; a gesture, however, to\\nwhich she made no response. It was always one of her\\npeculiarities that she seemed to shrink from even the\\nmost friendly touch, unless it were Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s or Hollings-\\nworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s. Zenobia, all this while, stood watching us, but\\nwith a careless expression, as if it mattered very little\\nwhat might pass.\\nPriscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I inquired, lowering my voice, when do\\nyou go back to Blithedale\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWhenever they please to take me,\u00e2\u0080\u0099 said she.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0531.jp2"}, "530": {"fulltext": "202\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nDid you come away of your own free will\\nasked.\\nI am blown about like a leaf,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she replied. 1\\nr*3ver have any free w ill.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nDoes Hollingsworth know that you are here\\nsaid I.\\nHe bade me come,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Priscilla.\\nShe looked at me, I thought, with an air of surprise,\\nas if the idea were incomprehensible that she should\\nhave taken this step without his agency.\\nWha+ a gripe this man has laid upon her whole\\nbeing!\u00e2\u0080\u009d muttered I, between my teeth. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, as\\nZenobia so kindly intimates, I have no more business\\nhere. I wash my hands of it all. On Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nhead be the consequences Priscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I added, aloud,\\nI know not that ever we may meet again. Farewell\\nAs I spoke the word, a carriage had rumbled along the\\nstreet, and stopt before the house. The door-bell rang,\\nand steps were immediately afterwards heard on the\\nstaircase. Zenobia had thrown a shawl over her dress.\\nMr. Coverdale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, with cool courtesy, you\\nwill perhaps excuse us. We have an engagement, and\\nare going out.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhither I demanded.\\nIs not that a little more than you are entitled ta\\ninquire said she, with a smile. At all events, it\\ndoes not suit me to tell you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe door of the drawing-room opened, and Wester-\\nvelt appeared. I observed that he was elaborately\\ndressed, as if for some grand entertainment. My dislike\\nfor this man was infinite. At that moment it amounted\\nto nothing less than a creeping of the flesh, as when,\\nfeeling about in a dark pkue, one touches something", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0532.jp2"}, "531": {"fulltext": "THEY VANISH.\\n203\\ncold and slimy, and questions what the secret hateful-\\nness may be. And still I could not but acknowledge\\nthat, for personal beauty, for polish of manner, for all\\nthat externally befits a gentleman, there was hardly\\nanother like him. After bowing to Zenobia, and gra\\nciously saluting Priscilla in her comer, he recognized\\nme by a slight but courteous inclination.\\nCome, Priscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia it is time. Mr.\\nCoverdale, good-evening.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAs Priscilla moved slowly forward, I met her in the\\nmiddle of the drawing-room.\\nPriscilla,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, in the hearing of them all, do\\nyiu know whither you are going?\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI do not know,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she answered.\\nIs it wise to go, and is it your choice to go 1\\nusked. If not, I am your friend, and Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nfriend. Tell me so, at once.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cPossibly,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed Westervelt, smiling, \u00e2\u0080\u009cPriscilla\\nsees in me an older friend than either Mr. Coverdale or\\nMr. Hollingsworth. I shall willingly leave the matter\\nat her option.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhile thus speaking, he made a gesture of kindly\\ninvitation, and Priscilla passed me, with the gliding\\nmovement of a sprite, and took his offered arm. He\\noffered the other to Zenobia but she turned her proud\\nand beautiful face upon him, with a look which judg-\\ning from what I caught of it in profile would undoubt-\\nedly hav3 smitten the man dead, had he possessed any\\nheart, or had this glance attained to it. It seemed to\\nrebound, however, from his courteous visage, like an\\narrow from polished steel. They all thiee descended\\nthe stairs; and when I likewise reached me street-doer\\nthe carriage was already rolling away", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0533.jp2"}, "532": {"fulltext": "XXI.\\nAN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.\\nThus excluded from everybody\u00e2\u0080\u0099s confidence, and\\ntaining no further, by my most earnest study, than to\\nan uncertain sense of something hidden from me, it\\nwould appear reasonable that I should have flung ofT all\\nthese alien perplexities. Obviously, my best course was\\nto betake myself to new scenes. Here I was only an\\nintruder. Elsewhere there might be circumstances in\\nwhich I could establish a personal interest, and people\\nwho would respond, with a portion of their sympathies,\\nfor so much as I should bestow of mine.\\nNevertheless, there occurred to me one other thing to\\nbe done. Bemembering old Moodie, and his relation-\\nship with Priscilla, I determined to seek an interview\\nfor the purpose of ascertaining whether the knot of\\naffairs was as inextricable on that side as I found it on\\nall others. Being tolerably well acquainted with the\\nold man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s haunts, I went, the next day, to the saloon of\\na certain establishment about which he often lurked. Il\\nwas a reputable place enough, affording good enter\\ntainment in the way of meat, drink, and fumigation\\nand there, in my young and idle days and nights, when\\nI was neither nice nor wise, I had often amused myself\\nwith watching the staid humors and sober jollities of the\\nthirsty souls around me.\\nAt my first pntrance, old Moodie was net there. Th\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0534.jp2"}, "533": {"fulltext": "AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.\\n20b\\nmore palientljr to await him, I lighted a cigar, and estab-\\nlishing myself in a corner, took a quiet, and, by sympathy,\\na boozy kind of pleasure in the customary life that was\\ngoing forward. The saloon was fitted up with a good\\ndeal of taste. There were pictures on the walls, and\\namong them an oil-painting of a beef-steak, with such an\\nadmirable show of juicy tenderness, that the beholder\\nsighed to think it merely visionary, and incapable of\\never being put upon a gridiron. Another work of high\\nart was the life-like representation of a noble sirloin\\nanother, the hind-quarters of a deer, retaining the hoofs\\nand tawny fur another, the head and shoulders of a\\nsalmon and, still more exquisitely finished, a brace of\\ncanvas-back ducks, in which the mottled feathers were\\ndepicted with the accuracy of a daguerreotype. Some\\nvery hungry painter, I suppose, had wrought these sub-\\njects of still life, heightening his imagination with his\\nappetite, and earning, it is to be hoped, the privilege of\\na daily dinner ofF whichever of his pictorial viands he\\nliked best. Then, there was a fine old cheese, in which\\nyou could almost discern the mites and some sardines,\\non a small plate, very richly done, and looking as if\\noozy with the oil in which they had been smothered.\\nAll these things were so perfectly imitated, that you\\nseemed to have the genuine article before you, and yet\\nwith an indescribable ideal charm; it took away the\\ngrossness from what was fleshiest and fattest, and thus\\nhelped the life of man, even in its earthliest relations, to\\nappear rich and noble, as well as warm, cheerful, and\\nsubstantial. There were pictures, too, of gallant revel-\\nlers, those of the old time, Flemish, apparently,\\nwith doublets and slashed sleeves, drinking their wine", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0535.jp2"}, "534": {"fulltext": "206\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nout of fantastic long-stemmed glasses quaffing joy\\nously, quaffing forever, with inaudible laughter and\\nsoug, while the Champagne bubbled immortally agniust\\ntheir mustaches, or the purple tide of Burgundy ran\\ninexhaustibly down their throats.\\nBut, in an obscure corner of the saloon, there was a\\nlittle picture excellently done, moreover of a rag\\nged, bloated, New England toper, stretched out on a\\nbench, in the heavy, apoplectic sleep of drunkenness.\\nThe death-in-life was too well portrayed. You smell\\nthe fumy liquor that had brought on this syncope.\\nYour only comfort lay in the forced reflection, that, real\\nas he looked, the poor caitiff was but imaginary, a bit\\nof painted canvas, whom no delirium tremens, nor so\\nmuch as a retributive headache, awaited, on the mor-\\nrow.\\nBy this time, it being past eleven o\u00e2\u0080\u0099clock, the two\\nbarkeepers of the saloon were in pretty constant activity\\nOne of these young men had a rare faculty in the con\\ncoction of gin-cocktails. It was a spectacle to behold\\nhow, with a tumbler in each hand, he tossed the con\\ntents from one to the other. Never conveying it awry\\nnor spilling the least drop, he compelled the frothy\\nliquor, as it seemed to me, to spout forth from one glass\\nand descend into the other, in a great parabolic curve, as\\nwell defined at d calculable as a planet\u00e2\u0080\u0099s orbit. He had\\na good forehead, with a particularly large development\\njust above the eyebrows; fine intellectual gifts, no doubt,\\nwhich he had educated to this profitable end; being\\nfamous for nothing but gin-cocktails, and commanding a\\nfair salary by his one accomplishment. These cocktails,\\nand oth?t artifi dal combinations of liquor (of which", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0536.jp2"}, "535": {"fulltext": "AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.\\n20 i\\nthere were at east a score, though mostly, I suspect\\nfantastic in their differences), were much in favor with\\nthe younger class of customers, who, at furthest, had\\nonly reached the second stage of potatory life. The\\nstanch old soakers, on the other hand, men who, if\\nput on tap, would have yielded a red alcoholic liquor by\\nway of blood, usually confined themselves to plain\\nbrandy-and-water, gin, or West India rum; and, often-\\ntimes, they prefaced their dram with some medicinal\\nremark as to the wholesomeness and stomachic qualities\\nof that particular drink. Two or three appeared to have\\nbottles of their own behind the counter and, winking\\none red eye to the barkeeper, he forthwith produced\\nthese choicest and peculiar cordials, which it was a mat-\\nter of great interest and favor, among their acquaint\\nances, to obtain a sip of.\\nAgreeably to the Yankee habit, under whatever cir-\\ncumstances, the deportment of all these good fellows, old\\nor young, was decorous and thoroughly correct. They\\ngrew only the more sober in their cups there was no\\nconfused babble nor boisterous laughter. They sucked\\nin the joyous fire of the decanters, and kept it smoulder-\\ning in their inmost recesses, with a bliss known only to\\nthe heart which it warmed and comforted. Their eyes\\ntwinkled a little, to be sure they hemmed vigorously\\nafter each glass, and laid a hand upon the pit of the\\nstomach, as if the pleasant titillation there was what\\nconstituted the tangible part of their enjoyment. In that\\nspot, unquestionably, and not in the brain, was the acme\\nof the whole affair. But the true purpose of their drink\\ning and one that will induce men to drink, or do some-\\nthing equivalent, as long as this weary world sha b", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0537.jp2"}, "536": {"fulltext": "20S\\nTHE BL1THEDALE ROMANCE.\\nendure was the renewed youth and vigt nr, tl e brisk,\\ncheerful sense of things present and to come, with\\nwhich, for about a quarter of an hour, the dram per-\\nmeated their systems. And when such quarters of an\\nhour can be obtained in some mode less baneful to the\\ngreat sum of a man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s life, but, nevertheless, with a\\nlittle spice of impropriety, to give it a wild flavor, we\\ntemperance people may ring out our bells for victory\\nThe prettiest object in the saloon was a tiny fountain,\\nwhich threw up its feathery jet through the counter, and\\nsparkled down again into an oval basin, or lakelet, con-\\ntaining several gold-fishes. There was a bed of bright\\nsand at the bottom, strewn with coral and rock-work\\nand the fishes went gleaming about, now turning up the\\nsheen of a golden side, and now vanishing into the\\nshadows of the water, like the fanciful thoughts that\\ncoquet with a poet in his dream. Never before, I\\nimagine, did a company of water-drinkers remain so\\nentirely uncontaminated by the bad example around\\nthem nor could I help wondering that it had not\\noccurred to any freakish inebriate to empty a glass of\\nliquor into their lakelet. What a delightful idea Whr.\\nwould not be a fish, if he could inhale jollity with the\\nessential element of his existence\\nI had began to despair of meeting old Moodie, when, all\\nat once, I recognized his hand and arm protruding from\\nbehind a screen that was set up for the accommodation\\nof bashful topers. As a matter of course, he had one of\\nPriscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s little purses, and was qu.etly insinuating it\\nunder the notice of a person who stood near. This was\\nalways old Moodie\u00e2\u0080\u0099s way. You hardly ever saw him\\nadvancing towards you, but became aware of his proxim", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0538.jp2"}, "537": {"fulltext": "N OLD ACQUAINTANCE\\n209\\nity without being able to guess how he had come thither,\\nHe glided about like a spirit, assuming visibility close tc\\nyour elbow, offering his petty trifles of merchandise-\\nremaining long enough for you to purchase, if so de-\\nposed, and then talcing himself off, between two breaths,\\nwhile you happened to be thinking of something else.\\nBy a sort of sympathetic impulse that often controlled\\nme in those more impressible days of my life, I was\\ninduced to approach this old man in a mode as undemon-\\nstrative as his own. Thus, when, according to his cus-\\ntom, he was probably just about to vanish, he found me\\nat his elbow.\\nAh said he, with more emphasis than was usual\\nwith him. It is Mr. Coverdale\\nYes, Mr. Moodie, your old acquaintance,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered\\n1. \u00e2\u0080\u009cIt is some time now since we ate our luncheon\\ntogether at Blithedale, and a good deal longer since our\\nlittle talk together at the street-comer.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThat was a good while ago,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the old man.\\nAnd he seemed inclined to say not a word more. His\\nexistence looked so colorless and torpid, so very\\nfaintly shadowed on the canvas of reality, that I was\\nhalf afraid lest he should altogether disappear, even\\nwhile my eyes were fixed full upon his figure. He was\\ncertainly the wretchedest old ghost in the world, with\\nhis crazy hat, the dingy handkerchief about his throat,\\nhis suit of threadbare gray, and especially that patch\\nover his right eye, behind which he always seemed to bo\\nhiding himself. There was one method, however, of\\nbringing him out into somewhat stronger relief. A glas?\\nof brandy would effect it. Perhaps the gentle r influence\\nof a bottle of claret might do the same. Nor could\\n14", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0539.jp2"}, "538": {"fulltext": "210\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nthink it a matter for the recording angel to write down\\nagainst me. if with my painful consciousness of the\\nfrost in this old man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s blood, and the positive ice that\\nhad congealed about his heart I should thaw him out,\\nwere it only for an hour, with the summer warmth of a\\nlittle wine. What else could possibly be done for him?\\nHow else could he be imbued with energy enough to\\nhope for a happier state hereafter? How e]se be\\ninspired to say his prayers For there are states of our\\nspiritual system when the throb of the soul\u00e2\u0080\u0099s life is too\\nfaint and weak to render us capable of religious aspira-\\ntion.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cMr. Moodie,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, \u00e2\u0080\u009cshall we lunch together?\\nAnd would you like to drink a glass of wine\\nHis one eye gleamed. He bowed and it impressed\\nme that he grew to be more of a man at once, either in\\nanticipation of the wine, or as a grateful response to mv\\ngood fellowship in offering it.\\nWith pleasure,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he replied.\\nThe barkeeper, at my request, showed us into a pri-\\nvate room, and soon afterwards set some fried oysters\\nand a bottle of claret on the table and I saw the old\\nman glance curiously at the label of the bottle, as if to\\nlearn the brand.\\nIt should be good wine,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I remarked, if it have any\\nright to its label.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYou cannot suppose, sir,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Moodie, with a sigh,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0098that a poor old fellow like me knows any difference in\\nwines\\nAnd yet, in his way of handling the glass, in his\\npreliminary snuff at the aroma, in his first cautious sip\\nof the wine, and the gustatory skill with which he gave", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0540.jp2"}, "539": {"fulltext": "AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.\\n2\\nnis palate the full advantage of it, it was impossible not\\nto recognize the connoisseur.\\nI fancy, Mr. Moodie,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, you are a much bet-\\nter judge of wines than I have yet learned to be. Tell\\nme fairly, did you never drink it where the grape\\ngrows\\nHow should that have been, Mr. Coverdale\\nanswered old Moodie, shyly; but then he took courage\\nas it were, and uttered a feeble little laugh. The flavor\\nof this wine,\u00e2\u0080\u009d added he, and its perfume, still more\\nthan its taste, makes me remember that I was once a\\nyoung man.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI wish, Mr. Moodie,\u00e2\u0080\u009d suggested I, not that 1\\ngreatly cared about it, however, but was only anxious to\\ndraw him into some talk about Priscilla and Zenobia,\\nI wish, while we sit over our wine, you would favor\\nme with a few of those youthful reminiscences.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAh,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, shaking his head, \u00e2\u0080\u009cthey might inter-\\nest you more than you suppose. But I had better be\\nsilent, Mr. Coverdale. If this good wine, though\\nclaret, I suppose, is not apt to play such a trick, but if\\nit should make my tongue run too freely, I could never\\nlook you in the face again.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYou never did look me in the face, Mr. Moodie,\u00e2\u0080\u009d 1\\nreplied, until this very moment.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAh sighed old Moodie.\\nIt was wonderful, however, what an effect the mild\\ngrape-juice wrought upon him. It was not in the wine, but\\nin the associations which it seemed to bring up. Instead\\nof the mean, slouching, furtive, painfully depressed air of\\nan old city vagabond, more like a gray kennel-rat than\\nany other living thing, he began to take the aspect of a", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0541.jp2"}, "540": {"fulltext": "THE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nI-\\ndecayed gentleman. Even his garments especially\\nafter I had myself quaffed a glass or two looked lea.\\nshabby than when we first sat down. There was, by\\nand by, a certain exuberance and elaborateness of ges-\\nture and manner, oddly in contrast with all that I had\\nhitherto seen of him. Anon, with hardly any impulse\\nfrom me, old Moodie began to talk. His communica\\ntions referred exclusively to a long past and more fortun\\nate period of his life, with only a few unavoidable allu\\nsions to the circumstances that had reduced him to his\\npresent state. But, having once got the clue, my subse\u00c2\u00bb\\nquent researches acquainted me with the main facts of\\nthe following narrative although, in writing it out, my\\npen has perhaps allowed itself a trifle of romantic and\\nlegendary license, worthier of a small poet than of a\\ngrave biographer.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0542.jp2"}, "541": {"fulltext": "XXII.\\nFAUNTLEROY.\\nF.ve-and-twenty years ago, at the epoch of this stoiy\\nthe*e dwelt in one of the Middle States a man whom\\nwe shall call Fauntleroy; a man of wealth, and magnif-\\nicent tastes, and prodigal expenditure. His home might\\nalmost be styled a palace his habits, in the ordinary\\nsense, princely. His whole being seemed to have crys-\\ntallized itself into an external splendor, wherewith he\\nglittered in the eyes of the world, and had no other life\\nthan upon this gaudy surface. He had married a lovely\\nwoman, whose nature was deeper than his own. But\\nhis affection for her, though it showed largely, was\\nsuperficial, like all his other manifestations and devel-\\nopments he did not so truly keep this noble creature in\\nhis heart, as wear her beauty for the most brilliant orna-\\nment of his outward state. And there was born to him\\na child, a beautiful daughter, whom he took from the\\nbeneficent hand of God with no just sense of her immor-\\ntal value, but as a man already rich in gems would\\nreceive another jewel. If he loved her, it was because\\nshe shone.\\nAfter Fauntleroy had thus spent a few empty years,\\ncorruscating continually an unnatural light, the source\\nof it which was merely his gold began to grow\\nmore shallow, and finally became exhausted. He saw\\nhimself in imminent peril of losing all that had hereto-", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0543.jp2"}, "542": {"fulltext": "214\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nfore distinguished him and, conscious of no innatd\\nworth to fall back upon, he recoiled from this calamity,\\nwith the instinct of a soul shrinking from annihilation.\\nTo avoid it wretched man or, rather to defer it, if\\nbut for a month, a day, or only to procure himself the\\nlife of a few breaths more amid the false glitter which\\nwas now less his own than ever, he made himself\\nguilty of a crime. It was just the sort of crime, growing\\nout of its artificial state, which society (unless it should\\nchange its entire constitution for this man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s unworthy\\nsake) neither could nor ought to pardon. More safely\\nmight it pardon murder. Fauntleroy\u00e2\u0080\u0099s guilt was dis-\\ncovered. He fled; his wife perished, by the necessity\\nof her innate nobleness, in its alliance with a being so\\nignoble and betwixt her mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s death and her father\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nignominy, his daughter was left worse than orphaned.\\nThere was no pursuit after Fauntleroy. His family\\nconnections, who had great wealth, made such arrange-\\nments with those whom he had attempted to wrong as\\nsecured him from the retribution that would have over-\\ntaken an unfriended criminal. The wreck of his estate\\nwas divided among his creditors. His name, in a very\\nbrief space, was forgotten by the multitude who had\\npassed it so diligently from mouth to mouth. Seldom,\\nindeed, was it recalled, even by his closest former inti-\\nmates. Nor could it have been otherwise. The mail\\nhad laid no real touch on any mortal\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart. Being a\\nmere image, an optical delusion, created by the sunshine\\nof prosperity, it was his law to vanish into the shadow\\nof the first intervening cloud. He seemed to leave no\\nvacancy a phenomenon which, like many otl ers that", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0544.jp2"}, "543": {"fulltext": "FAUNTLEROY.\\n215\\nattended, his brief career, went far to prove the illusive-\\nness of his existence.\\nNot, however, that the physical substance of Fauntle-\\nroy had literally melted into vapor. He had fled north-\\nward to the New England metropolis, and had taken\\nup his abode, under another name, in a squalid street or\\ncourt of the older portion of the city. There he dwelt\\namong poverty-stricken wretches, sinners, and forlorn\\ngood people, Irish, and whomsoever else were neediest.\\nMany families were clustered in each house together,\\nabove stairs and below, in the little peaked garrets, and\\npvon in the dusky cellars. The house where Fauntle-\\nroy paid weekly rent for a chamber and a closet had\\nbeen a stately habitation in its day. An old colonial\\ngovernor had built it, and lived there, long ago, and held\\nhis levees in a great room where now slept twenty Irish\\nbedfellows; and died in Fauntleroy\u00e2\u0080\u0099s chamber, which his\\nembroidered and white-wigged ghost still haunted. Tat-\\ntered hangings, a marble hearth, traversed with many\\ncracks and fissures, a richly-carved oaken mantel-piece,\\npartly hacked away for kindling-stufF, a stuccoed ceiling,\\ndefaced with great, unsightly patches of the naked\\nlaths, such was the chamber\u00e2\u0080\u0099s aspect, as if, with its\\nsplinters and rags of dirty splendor, it were a kind of\\npractical gibe at this poor, ruined man of show.\\nAt first, and at irregular intervals, his relatives\\nallowed Fauntleroy a little pittance to sustain life not\\nfrom any love, perhaps, but lest poverty should compel\\nhim, by new offences, to add more shame to that with\\nvhich he had already stained them. But he showed no\\ntendency to further guilt. His character appeared to\\nhave been radically changed (as, indeed, from its shallow", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0545.jp2"}, "544": {"fulltext": "216\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nness, it well might) by his miserable fate or, it may be;\\nthe traits now seen in him were portions of the same\\ncharacter, presenting itself in another phase. Instead\\nof any longer seeking to live in the sight of the world,\\nhis impulse was to shrink into the nearest obscurity, and\\nto be unseen of men, were it possible, even while stand-\\ning before their eyes. He had no pride it was all trod-\\nden in the dust. No ostentation for how could it sur-\\nvive, when there was nothing left of Fauntleroy, save\\npenury and shame His very gait demonstrated that\\nhe would gladly have faded out of view, and have crept\\nabout invisibly, for the sake of sheltering himself from\\nthe irksomeness of a human glance. Hardly, it was\\naverred, within the memory of those who knew him\\nnow, had he the hardihood to show his full front to the\\nworld. He skulked in corners, and crept about in a\\nsort of noon-day twilight, making himself gray and\\nmisty, at all hours, with his morbid intolerance of sun-\\nshine.\\nIn his torpid despair, however, he had done an act\\nwhich that condition of the spirit seems to prompt\\nalmost as often as prosperity and hope. Fauntleroy\\nwas again married. He had taken to wife a forlorn,\\nmeek-spirited, feeble young woman, a seamstress, whom\\nhe found dwelling with her mother in a contiguous\\nchamber of the old gubernatorial residence. This poor\\nphantom as the beautiful and noble companion of his\\nformer life had done brought him a daughter. Ana\\nsometimes, as from one dream into another, Fauntleroy\\nlooked forth out of his present grimy environment into\\ntW past magnificence, and wondered whether the\\ngrandee of yesterday or the pauper of to-day were real", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0546.jp2"}, "545": {"fulltext": "FAUNTLEROY.\\n2r\\nBut, in my mind, the one and the other were alike\\nimpalpable. Tn truth, it was Fauntleroy\u00e2\u0080\u0099s fatality to\\nbehold whatever he touched dissolve. After a few\\nyears, his second wife (dim shadow that she had always\\nbeen) faded finally out of the world, and left Fauntleroy\\nto deal as he might with their pale and nervous child.\\nAnd, by this time, among his distant relatives with\\nwhom he had grown a weary thought, linked with\\ncontagious infamy, and which they were only too\\nwilling to get rid of he was himself supposed to be no\\nmore.\\nThe younger child, like his elder one, might be con-\\nsidered as the true offspring of both parents, and as the\\nreflection of their state. She was a tremulous little\\ncreature, shrinking involuntarily from all mankind, but\\nin timidity, and no sour repugnance. There was a\\nlack of human substance in her it seemed as if, were\\nshe to stand up in a sunbeam, it would pass right\\nthrough her figure, and trace out the cracked and\\ndusty window-panes upon the naked floor. But, never-\\ntheless, the poor child had a heart; and from her\\nmother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gentle character she had inherited a profound\\nand still capacity of affection. And so her life was one\\nof love. She bestowed it partly on her father, but in\\ngreater part on an idea.\\nFor Fauntleroy, as they sat by their cheerless fire-\\nside, which was no fireside, in truth, but only a rusty\\nstove, had often talked to the little girl about his\\nformer wealth, the noble loveliness of his first wife, and\\nthe beautiful child whom she had given him. Instead\\nof the fairy tales which other parents tell, he told Pris-\\ncilla this And, out of the loneliness of her sad little*", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0547.jp2"}, "546": {"fulltext": "218\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE\\nexistence, Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s love grew, and tended upwaii, and\\ntwined itself perseveringly around this unseen sister as\\na grape-vine might strive to clamber out of a gloomy\\nhollow among the rocks, and embrace a young tree\\nstanding in the sunny warmth above. It was almost\\nlike worship, both in its earnestness and its humility\\nnor was it the less humble, though the more earnest,\\nbecause Priscilla could claim human kindred with the\\nbeing whom she so devoutly loved. As with worship, too,\\nit gave her soul the refreshment of a purer atmosphere.\\nSave for this singular, this melancholy, and yet beaut\\nful affection, the child could hardly have lived or, ha\\nshe lived, with a heart shrunken for lack of any senti\\nment to fill it, she must have yielded to the barren\\nmiseries of her position, and have grown to womanhood\\ncharacterless and worthless. But now, amid all the\\nsombre coarseness of her father\u00e2\u0080\u0099s outward life, and of her\\nown, Priscilla had a higher and imaginative life within.\\nSome faint gleam thereof was often visible upon her\\nface. It was as if, in her spiritual visits to her brilliant\\nsister, a portion of the latter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s brightness had permeated\\nour dim Priscilla, and still lingered, shedding a faint\\nillumination through the cheerless chamber, after she\\ncame back.\\nAs the child grew up, so pallid and so slender, and\\nwith much unaccountable nervousness, and all the\\nweaknesses of neglected infancy still haunting her, tho\\ngross and simple neighbors whispered strange things\\nabout Priscilla. The big, red, Irish matrons, whose\\ninnumerable progeny swarmed out of the adjacent doors,\\nused to mock at the pale, western child. They fancies\\nor, at least, affirmed it. between jest and earnest", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0548.jp2"}, "547": {"fulltext": "fauntleroy.\\n21U\\nmat she was not so solid flesh and blood as other :nil\\ndren, but mixed largely with a thinner element. They\\ncalled her ghost-child, and said that she could indeed\\nvanish when she pleased, but could never, in hei\\ndensest moments, make herself quite visible. The sun,\\nat mid-day, would shine through her in the first gray\\nof the twilight, she lost all the distinctness of her out-\\nline and, if you followed the dim thing into a dark\\ncorner, behold she was not there. And it was true\\nthat Piiscilla had strange ways; strange ways, and\\nstranger words, when she uttered any words at all.\\nNever stirring out of the old governor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s dusky house, she\\nsometimes talked of distant places and splendid rooms,\\nas if she had just left them. Hidden things were visi-\\nble to her (at least, so the people inferred from obscure\\nhints escaping unawares out of her mouth), and silence\\nwas audible. And in all the world there w r as nothing\\nso difficult to be endured, by those who had any dark\\nsecret to conceal, as the glance of Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s timid and\\nmelancholy eyes.\\nHer peculiarities were the theme of continual gossip\\namong the other inhabitants of the gubernatorial mansion.\\nThe rumor spread thence into a wider circle. Those\\nwho knew old Moodie, as he was now called, used often\\nto jeer him, at the very street corners, about his daugh-\\nter\u00e2\u0080\u0099s gift of second sight and prophecy. It was a period\\nwhen science (though mostly through its empirical pro-\\nfessors) was bringing forward, anew, a hoard of facts\\nand imperfect theories, that had partially won credence\\nin elder times, but which modern scepticism had swept\\nA way as rubbish. These things were now tossed up\\nagain, out of the surging ocean of human thought and", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0549.jp2"}, "548": {"fulltext": "220\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nexperience. The story of Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s preternatural man\\nifestations, therefore, attracted a kind of notice of which\\nit would have been deemed wholly unworthy a few\\nyears earlier. One day, a gentleman ascended the\\ncreaking staircase, and inquired which was old Moodie\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\ncharuber-door. And, several times, he came again. He\\nwas a marvellously handsome man, still youthful, too,\\nand fashionably dressed. Except that Priscilla, in those\\ndays, had no beauty, and, in the languor of her exist-\\nence, had not yet blossomed into womanhood, there\\nwould have been rich food for scandal in these visits\\nfor the girl was unquestionably their sole object, although\\nher father was supposed always to be present. But, it\\nmust likewise be added, there was something about\\nPriscilla that calumny could not meddle with and thus\\nfar was she privileged, either by the preponderance of\\nwhat was spiritual, or the thin and watery blood that\\nA eft her cheek so pallid.\\nYet, if the busy tongues of the neighborhood spared\\nPriscilla in one way, they made themselves amends by\\nrenewed and wilder babble on another score. They\\naverred that the strange gentleman was a wizard, and\\nthat he had taken advantage of Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s lack of\\nearthly substance to subject her to himself, as his famil-\\niar spirit, through whose medium he gained cognizance\\nof whatever happened, in regions near or remote. The\\nboundaries of his power were defined by me verge of the\\npit of Tartarus on the one hand, and the third sphere of\\nthe celestial world on the other. Again, they declared\\ntheir suspicion that the wizard, with all his show of\\nmanly beauty, was really an aged and wizened figure, oi\\nelse that his semblance of a human body was only s", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0550.jp2"}, "549": {"fulltext": "FAUNTLEROY.\\n221\\nni cromanti i, or perhaps a mechanical contrivance, in\\nwhich a demon walked about. In proof of it, however,\\nthey could merely instance a gold band around his\\nupper teeth, which had once been visible to several old\\nwomen, when he smiled at them from the top of the gov-\\nernor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s staircase. Of course, this was all absurdity, or\\nmostly so. But, after every possible deduction, there\\nremained certain very mysterious points about the\\nstranger\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character, as well as the connection that he\\nestablished with Priscilla. Its nature at that period was\\neven less understood than now, when miracles of this\\nkind have grown so absolutely stale, that I would gladly,\\nif the truth allowed, dismiss the whole matter from my\\nnarrative.\\nWe must now glance backward, in quest of the beau-\\ntiful daughter of Fauntleroy\u00e2\u0080\u0099s prosperity. What had\\nbecome of her? Fauntleroy\u00e2\u0080\u0099s only brother, a bachelor,\\nand with no other relative so near, had adopted the for\\nsaken child. She grew up in affluence, with native\\ngraces clustering luxuriantly about her. In her triumph\\nant progress towards womanhood, she was adorned with\\nevery variety of feminine accomplishment. But she\\nlacked a mother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s care. With no adequate control, on\\nany hand (for a man, however stern, however wise, can\\nnever sway and guide a female child), her character was\\nleft to shape itself. There was good in it, and evil. Pas-\\nsionate, self-willed and imperious, she had a warm and\\ngenerous nature showing the richness of the soil, how-\\never, chiefly by the weeds that flourished in it, and choked\\nup the herbs of grace. In her girlhoo 1 her uncle died.\\nAs Fauntleroy was supposed to be \u00e2\u0080\u0099likewise dead, and no\\nothei heir was known to exist, his wealth devolved eo", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0551.jp2"}, "550": {"fulltext": "222\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nher, although dying suddenly, the uncle left no will\\nAfter his death, there were obscure passages in Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u00993\\nhistory. There were whispers of an attachment, and\\neven a secret marriage, with a fascinating and accom-\\nplished but unprincipled young man. The incidents and\\nappearances, however, which led to this surmise, soon\\npassed away, and were forgotten.\\nNor was her reputation seriously affected by the report.\\nIn fact, so great was her native power and influence, and\\nsuch seemed the careless purity of her nature, that what\\never Zenobia did was generally acknowledged as right\\nfor her to do. The world never criticized her so harshly\\nas it does most women who transcend its rules. It\\nalmost yielded its assent, when it beheld her stepping out\\nof the common path, and asserting the more extensive\\nprivileges of her sex, both theoretically and by her prac\\ntice. The sphere of ordinary womanhood was felt to\\nbe narrower than her development required.\\nA portion of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s more recent life is told in the\\nforegoing pages. Partly in earnest and, I imagine, as\\nwas her disposition, half in a proud jest, or in a kind of\\nrecklessness that had grown upon her, out of some\\nhidden grief, she had given her countenance, and\\npromised liberal pecuniary aid, to our experiment of a\\nbetter social state. And Priscilla followed her to Blithe-\\ndale. The sole bliss of her life had been a dream of\\nthis beautiful sister, who had never so much as known\\nof her existence. By this time, too, the poor girl was\\nenthralled in an intolerable bondage, from which she\\nmust either free herself or perish. She deemed herself\\nsafest near Zenobia, intc whose large heart she hoped to\\nnestie.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0552.jp2"}, "551": {"fulltext": "FAUNTLEROY.\\n223\\nOne evening, months after Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s departure, when\\nMocdie (or shall we call him Fauntleroy?) was sitting\\nalon rt in the state-chamber of the old governor, there\\ncame lootsteps up the staircase. There was a pause on\\nthe landing-place. A lady\u00e2\u0080\u0099s musical yet haughty ac-\\ncents were heard making an inquiry from some denizen\\nof the hou*e, who had thrust a head out of a contiguous\\nchamber. There was then a knock at Moodie\u00e2\u0080\u0099s door\\nCome in said he.\\nAnd Zenobia entered. The details of the interview\\nthat followed being unknown to me, while, notwith\\nstanding, it would be a pity quite to lose the picturesque-\\nness of the situation, I shall attempt to sketch it,\\nmainly from fancy, although with some general grounds\\nof surmise in regard to the old man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s feelings.\\nShe gazed wonderingly at the dismal chamber. Dis-\\nmal to her, who beheld it only for an instant and how\\nmuch more so to him, into whose brain each bare spot\\non the ceiling, every tatter of the paper-hangings, and\\nall the splintered carvings of the mantel-piece, seen\\nwearily through long years, had worn their several\\nprints Inexpressibly miserable is this familiarity with\\nobjects that have been from the first disgustful.\\nI have received a strange message,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia,\\nafter a moment\u00e2\u0080\u0099s silence, requesting, or rather enjoining\\nit upon me, to come hither. Rather from curiosity than\\nany other motive, and because, though a woman, I\\nLave not all the timidity of one, I have complied.\\nCan it be you, sir, who thus summoned me\\nIt was,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Moodie.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd what was your purpose?\u00e2\u0080\u009d she continued\\n*Ygu require charity, perhaps? In that case, the mes*", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0553.jp2"}, "552": {"fulltext": "224\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nsage might have been more fitly worded. But you are\\nold and jjoor, and age and poverty should be allowed\\ntheir privileges. Tell me, therefore, to what extent you\\nneed my aid.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPut up your purse,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the supposed mendicant,\\nwith an inexplicable smile. Keep it, keep all your\\nwealth, until I demand it all, or none My message\\nhad no such end in view. You are beautiful, they tel!\\nme and I desired to look at you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHe took the one lamp that showed the discomfort and\\nsordidness of his abode, and approaching Zenobia, held\\nit up, so as to gain the more perfect view of her, from\\ntop to toe. So obscure was the chamber, that you\\ncould see the reflection of her diamonds thrown upc*\\nthe dingy wall, and flickering with the rise and fall of\\nZenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s breath. It was the splendor of those jewels\\non her neck, like lamps that burn before some fair tem-\\nple, and the jewelled flower in her hair, more than the\\nmurky, yellow light, that helped him to see her beauty\\nBut he beheld it, and grew proud at heart his own\\nfigure, in spite of his mean habiliments, assumed an air\\nof state and grandeur.\\nIt is well,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried old Moodie. Keep your wraith\\nYou are right worthy of it. Keep it, therefore but\\nwith one condition only.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nZenobia thought the old man beside himself, and was\\nmoved with pity.\\nHave you none to care for you asked she. No\\ndaughter no kind-hearted neighbor no meai^s or\\nprocuring the attendance which you need? Tell\\nonce again, can I do nothing for you\\nNothing,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he replied. I have beheld what", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0554.jp2"}, "553": {"fulltext": "FAUNTLEROY.\\n225\\nwished. Now leave me. Linger not a moment longer,\\nor I may be tempted to say what would bring a cloud\\nover that queenly brow. Keep all your wealth, but with\\nonly this one condition Be kind be no less kind\\nthan isters are to my poor Priscilla\\nAnd, it may be, after Zenobia withdrew, Fauntlerov\\npaced his gloomy chamber, and communed with himself\\nus follows or, at all events, it is the only solution\\nwhich I can offer of the enigma presented in his char-\\nacter\\nI am unchanged, the same man as of yore\\nsaid he. True, my brother\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wealth he dying intes-\\ntate is legally my own. I know it yet, of my own\\nchoice, I live a beggar, and go meanly clad, and hide\\nmyself behind a forgotten ignominy. Looks this like\\nostentation? Ah! but in Zenobia I live again! Be-\\nholding her, so beautiful, so fit to be adorned with all\\nimaginable splendor of outward state, the cursed\\nvanity, which, half a lifetime since, dropt off like tatters\\nof once gaudy apparel from my debased and ruined per-\\nson, is all renewed for her sake. Were 1 to reappear,\\nmy shame would go with me from darkness into day-\\nA\u00e2\u0080\u0099ght. Zenobia has -the splendor, and not the shame.\\nLet the world admire her, and be dazzled by her, the\\nbrilliant child of my prosperity! It is Fauntleroy that\\nstill shines through her\\nBut then, perhaps, another thought occurred to him.\\nMy poor Priscilla And am I just to her, in sur\\nrendering all to this beautiful Zenobia? Priscilla! I\\nlove her best, I love her only but with shame, not\\npride. So dim, so pallid, so shrinking, the daughtei\\nof my long calamity Wealth were but a mockery in\\n15", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0555.jp2"}, "554": {"fulltext": "226\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nPriscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hands. What is its use, except to fling- a\\ngolden radiance arcund those who grasp it? Yet let\\nZenobia take heed Priscilla shall have no wrong\\nBut, while the man of show thus meditated, that\\nvery evening, so far as I can adjust the dates of these\\nstrange incidents, Priscilla poor, pallid flower\\nvi as either snatched from Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hand, or flung wil-\\nfully away", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0556.jp2"}, "555": {"fulltext": "XXIII\\nA VILLAGE-HALL.\\nW ell, I betook myself away, and wanderec up and\\ndown, like ar\u00e2\u0080\u009e exorcised spirit that had been driven from\\nits old haunts after a mighty struggle. It takes down\\nthe solitary pride of man, beyond most other things, to\\nfind the impracticability of flinging aside affections that\\nhave grown irksome. The bands that were silken once\\nare apt to become iron fetters when we desire to shake\\nthem off. Our souls, after all, are not our own. We\\nconvey a property in them to those with whom we\\nassociate but to what extent can never be known, until\\nwe feel the tug, the agony, of our abortive effort to\\nresume an exclusive sway over ourselves. Thus, in all\\nthe weeks of my absence, my thoughts continually\\nreverted back, brooding over the by-gone months, and\\nbringing up incidents that seemed hardly to have left a\\ntrace of themselves in their passage. I spent painful\\nhours in recalling these trifles, and rendering them more\\nmisty and unsubstantial than at first by the quantity of\\nspeculative musing thus kneaded in with them. Hollings-\\nworth, Zenobia, Priscilla! These three had absorbed\\nmy life into themselves. Together with an inexpressible\\nlonging to know their fortunes, there was likewise a\\nmorbid resentment of my own pain, and a stubborn\\nreluctance to come again within their sphere.\\nAll that I learned of them., therefore, was comprised", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0557.jp2"}, "556": {"fulltext": "228\\nTHE BLITIIEDALE ROMANCE.\\nin a few brief and pungent squibs, such as the news-\\npapers were then in the habit of bestowing oi oui\\nsocialist enterprise. There was one paragraph, which\\nif I rightly guessed its purport, bore reference to Zenobia,\\nbut was too darkly hinted to convey even thus much of\\ncertainty. Hollingsworth, too, with his philanthropic\\nproject, afforded the penny-a-liners a theme for some\\nsavage and bloody-minded jokes and, considerably to\\nmy surprise, they affected me with as much indignatior\\nas if we had still been friends.\\nThus passed sever? 1 weeks time long enough for my\\nbrown and toil-hardened hands to re accustom themselves\\nto gloves. Old habits, such as were merely external,\\nreturned upon me with wonderful promptitude. My\\nsuperficial talk, too, assumed altogether a worldly tone.\\nMeeting former acquaintances, who showed themselves\\ninclined to ridicule my heroic devotion to the cause of\\nhuman welfare, I spoke of the recent phase of my life as\\nindeed fair matter for a jest. But I also gave them to\\nunderstand that it was, at most, only an experiment, on\\nwhich I had staked no valuable amount of hope or fear.\\nIt had enabled me to pass the summer in a novel and\\nagreeable way, had afforded me some grotesque speci-\\nmens of artificial simplicity, and could not, therefore, so\\nfar as I was concerned, be reckoned a failure. In n\\none instance, however, did I voluntarily speak of my\\nthree friends. They dwelt in a profounder region. The\\nmore I consider myself as I then was, the more do 1\\nrecognize how deeply my connection with those three\\nhad affected all my being.\\nAs it was already the epoch of annihilated ,pace, i\\nmight, in the time I was away from Blithed; hav*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0558.jp2"}, "557": {"fulltext": "\u00e2\u0096\u00a0A VILLAGE -HALL.\\n229\\nBnatched a glimpse at England, and been back again*\\nBut my wanderings were confined within a very limited\\nsphere. I hopped and fluttered, like a bird w ith a string\\nabout its leg, gyrating round a small circumference, and\\nkeeping up a restless activity to no purpose. Thus it\\nwas still in our familiar Massachusetts, in one of its\\nwhite country-villages, that I must next particularize\\nan incident\\nThe scene was one of those lyceum-halis, of which\\nalmost every village has now its own, dedicated to that\\nsober and pallid, or rather drab-colored, mode of winter-\\nevening entertainment, the lecture. Of late years, this\\nhas come strangely into vogue, when the natural tend-\\nency of things would seem to be to substitute lettered\\nfor oral methods of addressing the public. But, in halls\\nlike this, besides the winter course of lectures, there is a\\nrich and varied series of other exhibitions. Hither\\ncomes the ventriloquist, with all his mysterious tongues\\nthe thaumaturgist, too, with his miraculous transforma-\\ntions of plates, doves, and rings, his pancakes smoking\\nin your hat, and his cellar of choice liquors represented\\nin one small bottle. Here, also, the itinerant professor\\ninstructs separate classes of ladies and gentlemen in\\nphysiology, and demonstrates his lessons by the aid\\nof real skeletons, and mannikins in wax, from Paris.\\nHere is to be heard the choir of Ethiopian melodists,\\nand to be seen the diorama of Moscow or Bunker Hill,\\nor the moving panorama of the Chinese wall. Here is\\ndisplayed the museum of wax figures, illustrating the\\nwide Catholicism of earthly renown, by mixing up heroes\\nand statesmen, the pope and the Mormon prophet, kings,\\nqueens, murderers, and beautiful ladies every sr rt of pet", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0559.jp2"}, "558": {"fulltext": "230\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nson, in short, except authors, of whom I never beheld\\neven the most famous done in wax. And here, in this\\nmany-purposed hall (unless the selectmen of the village\\nchance to have more than their share of the Puritanism\\nwhich, however diversified with later patchwork, still\\ngives its prevailing tint to New England character), here\\nthe company of strolling players sets up its little stage,\\nand claims patronage for the legitimate drama.\\nBut, on the autumnal evening which I speak of, a\\nnumber of printed handbills stuck up in the bar-room,\\nand on the sign-post of the hotel, and on the meeting-\\nhouse porch, and distributed largely through the vil-\\nlage had promised the inhabitants an interview with\\nthat celebrated and hitherto inexplicable phenomenon,\\nthe Veiled Lady\\nThe hall was fitted up with an amphitheatrical descent\\nof seats towards a platform, on which stood a desk, two\\nlights, a stool, and a capacious antique chair. The au-\\ndience was of a generally decent and respectable character:\\nold farmers, in their Sunday black coats, with shrewd\\nhard, sun-dried faces, and a cynical humor, oftener than\\nany other expression, in their eyes pretty girls, in many-\\ncolored attire pretty young men, the schoolmaster,\\nthe lawyer or student at law, the shopkeeper, all\\nlooking rather suburban than rural. In these days,\\nthere is absolutely no rusticity, except when the actual\\nlabor of the soil leaves its earth-mould on the person.\\nThere was likewise a considerable proportion of young\\nand middle-aged women, many of them stern in feature\\nwith marked foreheads, and a very definite line of eye-\\nbrow a type of womanhood in which a bold intellectua\\ndevelopment seems to be keeping pace with the progress*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0560.jp2"}, "559": {"fulltext": "A VILLAGE-HALL.\\n231\\nive dc icacy of the physical constitution. Of all these\\npeople I took note, at first, according to my custom.\\nBut I ceased to do so the moment that my eyes fell on an\\nindividual who sat two or three seats below me, immov-\\nable, apparently deep in thought, with his back, of course,\\ntowards me, and his face turned steadfastly upon the\\nplatform.\\nAfter sitting a while in contemplation of this person\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nfamiliar contour, 1 was irresistibly moved to step over\\nthe intervening benches, lay my hand on his shoulder,\\nput my mouth close to his ear, and address him in a\\nsepulchral, melo-dramatic whisper\\nHollingsworth where have you left Zenobia\\nHis nerves, however, were proof against my attack.\\nHe turned half around, and looked me in the face with\\ngreat, sad eyes, in which there was neither kindness nor\\nresentment, nor any perceptible surprise.\\nZenobia, when I last saw her,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he answered, was\\nat Blithedale.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHe said no more. But there was a great deal of talk\\ngoing on near me, among a knot of people who might\\nbe considered as representing the mysticism, or rather\\nthe mystic sensuality, of this singular age. The nature\\nof the exhibition that was about to take place had prob-\\nably given the turn to their conversation.\\nI heard, from a pale man in blue spectacles, some\\nstranger stories than ever were written in a romance\\ntold, too, with a simple, unimaginative steadfastness, which\\nwas terribly efficacious in compelling the auditor to re-\\nceive them into the category of established facts. He cited\\ninstances of the miraculous power of one human being\\nover the will and passions of another; insomuch that", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0561.jp2"}, "560": {"fulltext": "232\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nsettled grief was but a shadow beneath the influence of\\na man possessing this potency, and the strong love of\\nyears melted away like a vapor. At the bidding of one\\nof these wizards, the maiden, with her lover\u00e2\u0080\u0099s kiss still\\nburning on her lips, would turn from him with icy indif-\\nference the newly-made widow would dig up her buried\\nheart out of her young husband\u00e2\u0080\u0099s grave before the sods\\nhad taken root upon it a mother, with her babe\u00e2\u0080\u0099s milk in\\nher bosom, would thrust away her child. Human char-\\nacter was but soft w .x in his hands and guilt, or virtue,\\nonly the forms inte *vhich he should see fit to mould it.\\nThe religious sei iment was a flame which he could\\nblow up with his breath, or a spark that he could utterly\\nextinguish. It is unutterable, the horror and disgust\\nwith which I listened, and saw that, if these things were\\nto be believed, the individual soul was virtually annihi-\\nlated, and all that is sweet and pure in our present life\\ndebased, and that the idea of man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s eternal responsibility\\nwas made ridiculous, and immortality rendered at once\\nimpossible, and not worth acceptance. But I would\\nhave perished on the spot, sooner than believe it.\\nThe epoch of rapping spirits, and all the wonders that\\nhave followed in their train, such as tables upset by\\ninvisible agencies, bells self-tolled at funerals, and ghostly\\nmusic performed on jewsharps, had not yet arrived.\\nAlas i countrymen, methinks we have fallen on an\\ney?. age If these phenomena have not humbug at the\\nbottom, so much the worse for us. What can they in-\\ndicate, in a spiritual way, except that the soul of man is\\ndescending to a lower point than it has ever before\\nreached while incarnate? We are pursuing a down-\\nward course in the eternal march, and thus bring out", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0562.jp2"}, "561": {"fulltext": "A VILLAGE-HAI.L.\\n2X1\\nselves into ihe same range with beings whom death, in\\nr**quital of iheir gross and evil lives, has degraded below\\nhumanity! To hold intercourse with spirits of this\\norder, we must stoop and grovel in some element more\\nvile than earthly dust. These goblins, if they exist at\\ntill, are but the shadows of past mortality, outcasts, mere\\nrefuse-stuff, adjudged unworthy of the eternal world,\\nand, on the most favorable supposition, dwindling grad-\\nually into nothingness. The less we have to sav to\\nthem the better, lest we share their fate\\nThe audience now began to be impatient they signi-\\nfied their desire for the entertainment to commence by\\nthump of sticks and stamp of boot-heels. Nor was it a\\ngreat while longer before, in response to their call, there\\nappeared a b irded personage in oriental robes, looking\\nlike one of the enchanters of the Arabian Nights. He\\ncame upon the platform from a side-door, saluted the\\nspectators, not with a salaam, but a bow, took his station\\nat the desk, and first blowing his nose with a white hand-\\nkerchief, prepared to speak. The environment of the\\nhomely village-hall, and the absence of many ingenious\\ncontrivances of stage-effect with which the exhibition\\nhad heretofore been set off, seemed to bring the artifice\\nof this character more openly upon the surface. No\\nsooner did I behold the bearded enchanter, than, laying\\nmy hand again on Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s shoulder, I whispered\\nin his ear,\\nDo you know him\\n1 neve* saw the man before,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he muttered, without\\nturning his head.\\nBut I had seen him three times already. Once, on\\noccasion of my first visit to the Veiled Lady a second", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0563.jp2"}, "562": {"fulltext": "2IJ4\\n1HE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE\\ntime, in the wood-path at Blithedale; and lastly, in\\n7enobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s drawing-room. It was Westervelt. A quick\\nassociation of ideas made me shudder from hea 1 to foot\\nin 4 again, like an evil spirit, bringing up reminiscences\\nof a man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sins, I whispered a question in Hollings-\\nwo th\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ear,\\nWhat have you done with Priscilla\\nH gave a convulsive start, as if I had thrust a knife\\ninto him, writhed himself round on his seat, glared\\nfiercei- into my eyes, but answered not a word.\\nThe Professor began his discourse, explanatory of the\\npsychoh gical phenomena, as he termed them, which it\\nwas his purpose to exhibit to the spectators. There\\nremains i o very distinct impression of it on my mem-\\nory. It was eloquent, ingenious, plausible, with a delu-\\nsive show c* spirituality, yet really imbued throughout\\nwith a cold urd dead materialism. I shivered, as at a\\ncurrent of chP air issuing out of a sepulchral vault, and\\nbringing the suell of corruption along with it. He\\nspoke of a new cm that was dawning upon the world\\nan era that would hnk soul to soul, and the present life\\nto what we call futurity, with a closeness that should\\nfinally convert both w orlds into one great, mutually con-\\nscious brotherhood. Hi described (in a strange, philo-\\nsophical guise, with tei rs of art, as if it were a matter\\nof chemical discovery) th i agt-ncy by which this mighty\\nresult was to be effected no would it have surprised me,\\nhad he pretended to hold up a portion of his universally\\npervasive fluid, as he affirmed it to be, in a glass phial.\\nAt the close of his exordium the Professor beckoned\\nwith hi? hand, once, twice, thrice, and a figure\\ncame gliding upon the platform, envelop d in i h ug veil\\nof silvery whiteness. It fell about her Pc* \\\\i^ur\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0564.jp2"}, "563": {"fulltext": "A VILT.AG E-HALL..\\n235\\not a summer cloud, with a kind of vagueness, so that\\nthe outline of the form beneath it could not be accurately\\ndiscerned. But the movement of the Veiled Lady \\\\va3\\ngraceful, free and unembarrassed, like that of a person\\naccustomed to be the spectacle of thousands or, possi-\\nbly, a blindfold prisoner within the sphere with which\\nthis dark earthly magician had surrounded her, she was\\nwholly unconscious of being the central object to all\\nthose straining eyes.\\nPliant to his gesture (which had even an obsequious\\ncourtesy, but at the same time a remarkable decisive-\\nness), the figure placed itself in the great chair. Sitting\\nthere, in such visible obscurity, it was perhaps as much\\nlike the actual presence of a disembodied spirit as any-\\nthing that stage trickery could devise. The hushed\\nbreathing of the spectators proved how high-wrought\\nwere their anticipations of the wonders to be performed\\nthrough the medium of this incomprehensible creature.\\nI, too, was in breathless suspense, but with a far dif-\\nferent presentiment of some strange event at hand.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYou see before you the Veiled Lady,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the\\nbearded Professor, advancing to the verge of the plat-\\nform. By the agency of which I have just spoken, she\\nis at this moment in communion with the spiritual\\nworld. That silvery veil is, in one sense, an enchant-\\nment, having been dipped, as it were, and essentially\\nimbued, through the potency of my art, with the fluid\\nmedium of spirits. Slight and ethereal as it seems, the\\nlimitations of time and space have no existence within\\nits folds. This hall these hundreds of faces, encom-\\npassing her within so narrow an amphitheatre are of\\nthinner substance, in her view, than the airiest vapor\\nthat the clouds are made of. She beholds the Absolute ,fi", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0565.jp2"}, "564": {"fulltext": "236\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nAs preliminary to other and far more wonderful psy\\nchological experiments, the exhibiter suggested that sorrn\\nof his auditors should endeavor to make the Veiled Lady\\nsensible of their presence by such methods provided\\nonly no touch were laid upon her person as they\\nmight deem best adapted to that end. Accordingly,\\nseveral deep-lunged country-fellows, who looked as if\\nthey might have blown the apparition away with a breath\\nascended the platform. Mutually encouraging one\\nanother, they shouted so close to her ear that the veil\\nstirred like a wreath of vanishing mist they smote\\nupon the floor with bludgeons they perpetrated so\\nhideous a clamor, that methought it might have reached,\\nat least, a little way into the eternal sphere. Finally,\\nwith the assent of the Professor, they laid hold of the\\ngreat chair, and were startled, apparently, to find it soar\\nupward, as if lighter than the air through which it rose.\\nBut the Veiled Lady remained seated and motionless,\\nwith a composure that was hardly less than awful,\\nbecause implying so immeasurable a distance betwixt her\\nand these rude persecutors.\\nThese efforts are wholly without avail,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed the\\nProfessor, who had been looking on with an aspect of\\nserene indifference. The roar of a battery of cannon\\nwould be inaudible to the Veiled Lady. And yet, were\\nI to will it, sitting in this very hall, she could hear the\\ndesert wind sweeping over the sands as far off as Arabia\\nthe icebergs grinding one against the other in the polar\\nseas the rustle of a leaf in an East Indian forest the\\nlowest whispered breath of the bashfulest maiden in the\\nworld, uttering the first confession of her love. Nor does\\nthere exist the moral inducement, apart from my own", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0566.jp2"}, "565": {"fulltext": "A VILLAGE -HALL.\\n237\\nbahest, thet could persuade her to lift the silvery veil, c\\narise out of that chair.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nGreatly to the Professor\u00e2\u0080\u0099s discomposure, however, just\\nas he spoke these words, the Veiled Lady arose. There\\nwas a mysterious tremor that shook the magic veil. The\\nspectators, it may be, imagined that she was about to\\ntake flight into that invisible sphere, and to the society\\nof those purely spiritual beings with whom they reck-\\noned her so near akin. Hollingsworth, a moment ago,\\nhad mounted the platform, and now stood gazing at the\\nfigure, with a sad intentness that brought the whole\\npower of his great, stern, yet tender soul into his glance.\\nCome,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he, waving his hand towards her. You\\nare safe\\nShe threw off the veil, and stood before that multitude\\nof people pale, tremulous, shrinking, as if only then had\\nshe discovered that a thousand eyes were gazing at hei.\\nPoor maiden How strangely had she been betrayed\\nBlazoned abroad as a wonder of the world, and perform\\nmg what were adjudged as miracles, in the faith ol\\nmany, a seeress and a prophetess in the haisher judg-\\nment of others, a mountebank, she had kept, as 1\\nreligiously believe, her virgin reserve and sanctity of\\nsoul throughout it all. Within that encircling veil\\nthough an evil hand had flung it over her, there was as\\ndeep a seclusion as if this forsaken girl had, all the\\nwhile, been sitting under the shadow of Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit,\\nin the Blithedale woods, at the feet of him who now\\nsummoned her to the shelter of his arms. And the true\\nheart-throb of a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s affection was too powerful for\\nth;? jugglery that had hitherto environed her. She\\nuttered a shriek, and fled to Hollingsworth, like one\\nescaping from her deadliest enemy, and was safe forever", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0567.jp2"}, "566": {"fulltext": "XXIV.\\nTHE MASQUERADERS.\\nTwo nights had passed since the foregoing occur*\\nrences, when, in a breezy September forenoon, I set forth\\nfrom town, on foot, towards Blithedale.\\nIt was the most delightful of all days for a walk, with\\na dash of invigorating ice-temper in the air, but a cool-\\nness that soon gave place to the brisk glow of exercise,\\nwhile the vigor remained as elastic as before. The\\natmosphere had a spirit and sparkle in it. Each breath\\nwas like a sip of ethereal wine, tempered, as I said, with\\na crystal lump of ice. I had started on this expedition\\nin an exceedingly sombre mood, as well befitted one who\\nfound himself tending towards home, but was conscious\\nthat nobody would be quite overjoyed to greet him\\nthere. My feet were hardly off the pavement, however,\\nwhen this morbid sensation began to yield to the lively\\ninfluences of air and motion. Nor had I gone far, with\\nfields yet green on either side, before my step became\\nas swift and light as if Hollingsworth were waiting\\nto exchange a friendly hand-grip, and Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s and\\nPriscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s open arms would welcome the wanderer\u00e2\u0080\u0099s re-\\nappearance. It has happened to me, on other occasions,\\nas well as this, to prove how a state of physical well-\\nbeing can create a kind of joy, in spite of the profoundesi\\nanxiety of mind.\\nThe pathway of that walk still runs along, with sumij", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0568.jp2"}, "567": {"fulltext": "THE MASQUERADERS.\\n239\\nfreshness through my memory. I know not why it\\nshould he so. But my mental eye can even now dis-\\ncern the September gmss, bordering the pleasant road-\\nside with a brighter verdure than while the summer\\nheats were scorching it the trees, too, mostly green,\\nalthough here and there a branch or shrub has donned\\nits vesture of crimson and gold a week or two before its\\nfellows. I see the tufted barberry-bushes, with their\\nsmall clusters of scarlet fruit the toadstools, likewise,\\nsome spotlessly white, others yellow or red, mysterious\\ngrowths, springing suddenly from no root or seed, and\\ngrowing nobody can tell how or wherefore. In this re-\\nspect they resembled many of the emotions in my breast.\\nAnd I still see the little rivulets, chill, clear and bright,\\nthat murmured beneath the road, through subterranean\\nrocks, and deepened into mossy pools, where tiny fish\\nwere darting to and fro, and within which lurked the\\nhermit-frog. But no, I never can account for it,\\nthat, with a yearning interest to learn the upshot of all\\nmy story, and returning to Blithedale for that sole pur-\\npose, I should examine these things so like a peaceful-\\nbosomed naturalist. Nor why, amid all my sympathies\\nand fears, there shot, at times, a wild exhilaration\\nthrough my frame.\\nThus I pursued my way along the line of the ancient\\nstone wall that Paul Dudley built, and through white\\nvillages, and past orchards of ruddy apples, and fields of\\nripening maize, and patches of woodland, and all such\\nsweet rural scenery as looks the fairest, a little beyond\\nthe suburbs of a town. Hollingsworth, Zenobia, Pris-\\ncilla They glided mistily before me, as I walked.\\nSometimes, in my solitude, I laughed with the bitterness", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0569.jp2"}, "568": {"fulltext": "240\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nof self -scorn, remembering how unreservedly I had given\\nup my heart and soul to interests that were not mine.\\nWhat had I ever had to do with them? And why,\\nbeing now free, should I take this thraldom on me once\\nagain It was both sad and dangerous, 1 whispered to\\nmyself, to be in too close affinity with the passions, the\\nerrors and the misfortunes, of individuals who stood\\nwithin a circle of their own, into which, if I stept at all,\\nit must be as an intruder, and at a peril that I could not\\nestimate.\\nDrawing nearer to Blithedale, a sickness of the spirits\\nkept alternating with my flights of causeless buoyancy.\\nI indulged in a hundred odd and extravagant conjectures.\\nEither there was no such place as Blithedale, nor ever\\nhad been, nor any brotherhood of thoughtful laborers\\nlike what I seemed to recollect there, or else it was all\\nchanged during my absence. It had been nothing but\\ndream-work and enchantment. I should seek in vain\\nfor the old farm-house, and for the green-sward, the\\npotato-fields, the root-crops, and acres of Indian com,\\nand for all that configuration of the land which I had\\nimagined. It would be another spot, and an utter\\nstrangeness.\\nThese vagaries were of the spectral throng so apt to\\nsteal out of an unquiet heart. They partly ceased to\\nhaunt me, on my arriving at a point whence, through\\nthe trees, I began to catch glimpses of the Blithedale\\nfarm. That surely was something real. There was\\nhardly a square foot of all those acres on which I had\\nnot trodden heavily, in one or another kind of toil. The\\ncurse of Adam\u00e2\u0080\u0099s posterity and, curse or blessing be it,\\ni* gives substance to the life around us had first come", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0570.jp2"}, "569": {"fulltext": "THE MASQUERADERS.\\n241\\nupon me there. Id the sweat of my brow Iliad there\\nearned bread and eaten it, and so established my claim\\nto be on earth, and my fellowship with all the sons of\\nlabor. I could have knelt down, and have laid my\\nbreast against that soil. The red clay of which my\\nframe was moulded seemed nearer akin to those crum-\\nbling furrows than to any other portion of the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\ndust. There was my home, and there might be mv\\ngrave.\\nI felt an invincible reluctance, nevertheless, at the\\nidea of presenting myself before my old associates, with-\\nout first ascertaining the state in which they were. A\\nnameless foreboding weighed upon me. Perhaps, should\\nI know all the circumstances that had occurred, I might\\nfind it my wisest course to turn back, unrecognized, un-\\nseen, and never look at Blithedale more. Had it been\\nevening, 1 would have stolen softly to some lighted win-\\ndow of the old farm-house, and peeped darkling in, to see\\nall their well-known faces round the supper-board. Then,\\nwere there a vacant seat, I might noiselessly unclose the\\ndoor, glide in, and take my place among them, without\\na word. My entrance might be so quiet, my aspect so\\nfamiliar, that they would forget how long I had been\\naway, and suffer me to melt into the scene, as a wreath\\nof vapor melts into a larger cloud. I dreaded a bois-\\nterous greeting. Beholding me at table, Zenobia, as a\\nmatter of course, would send me a cup of tea, and Hol-\\nlingsworth fill my plate from the great dish of pan-\\ndowdy, and Priscilla, in her quiet way, would hand the\\ncream, and others help me to the bread and butter. Be-\\ning one of them again, the knowledge of what had hap-\\npene i would come to me without a shock. For stiP, at\\n16", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0571.jp2"}, "570": {"fulltext": "242\\nTHE BLITHEDALE R0J\\\\LuNCb.\\nevery turn of my shifting fantasies, the thought sfe-n;* 1\\nme in the face that some evil thing had befallen us, ur\\nwas ready to befall.\\nYielding to this ominous impression, I now turned\\naside into the woods, resolving to spy out the posture of\\nthe Community, as craftily as the wild Indian before he\\nmakes his onset. I would go wandering about the out-\\nskirts of the farm, and, perhaps, catching sight cf a soli-\\ntary acquaintance, would approach him amid the brown\\nshadows of the trees (a kind of medium fit for spirits\\ndeparted and revisitant, like myself), and entreat him tc\\nteL me how all things were.\\nThe first living creature that I met was a partridge\\nwhich sprung up beneath my feet, and whirred away\\nthe next was a squirrel, who chattered angrily at me\\nfrom an overhanging bough. I trod along by the dark,\\nsluggish river, and remember pausing on the bank, above\\none of its blackest and most placid pools (the very spot,\\nwith the barkless stump of a tree aslantwise over the\\nwater, is depicting itself to my fancy at this instant),\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nand wondering how deep it was, and if any over-laden\\nsoul had ever flung its weight of mortality in thither,\\nand if it thus escaped the burthen, or only made it\\nheavier. And perhaps the skeleton of the diowned\\nwretch still lay beneath the inscrutable depth, clinging\\nto some sunken log at the bottom with the gripe of its\\noil despair. So slight, however, was the track of these\\ngloomy ideas, that I soon forgot them in the contempla-\\ntion of a brood of wild ducks, which were floating ou\\nthe river, and anon took flight, leaving each a bright\\nstreak over the black surface. By and by, I came to my\\nhermitage, in the Inart of the white-pine tree and clan*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0572.jp2"}, "571": {"fulltext": "THE MASQUERADERS.\\n243\\nbe ring up into it, sat down to rest. The grapes which 1\\nhad watched throughout the summer, now dangled around\\nme in abundant clusters of the deepest purple, deliciously\\nsweet to the taste, and, though wild, yet free from that\\nungentle flavor which distinguishes nearly all our native\\nand uncultivated grapes. Methought a wine might be\\npressed out of them possessing a passionate zest, and\\nendowed with a new kind of intoxicating quality, at-\\ntended with such bacchanalian ecstacies as the tamer\\ngrapes of Madeira, France, and the Rhine, are inade-\\nquate to produce. And I longed to quaff a great goblet\\nof it at that moment\\nWhile devouring the grapes, I looked on all sides out\\nof the peep-holes of my hermitage, and saw the farm-\\nhouse, the fields, and almost every part of our domain,\\nbut not a single human figure in the landscape. Some\\nof the windows of the house were open, but with no\\nmore signs of life than in a dead man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s unshut eyes.\\nThe barn-door was ajar, and swinging in the breeze.\\nThe big old dog, he was a relic of the former dynasty\\nof the farm, that hardly ever stirred out of the yard,\\nwas nowhere to be seen. What, then, had become of\\nall tne fraternity and sisterhood Curious to ascertain\\nthis point, I let myself down out of the tree, and going\\nto the edge of the wood, was glad to perceive our herd\\nof cows chewing the cud or grazing not far off. I fan-\\ncied, by their manner, that two or three of them recog-\\nnized me (as, indeed, they ought, for I had milked them\\nand been their chamberlain times without number) but,\\nafter staring me in the face a little while, they phleg-\\nmatically began grazing and chewing their cuds again.\\nThen I grew foolishly angry at so cold a recepti m, and", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0573.jp2"}, "572": {"fulltext": "244\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nflung some rotten fragments of an old stump at these\\nunsentimental cows.\\nSkirting further round the pasture, I heard voices and\\nmuch laughter proceeding from the interior of the wood.\\nVoices, male and feminine laughter, not only of fresh\\nyoung throats, but the bass of grown people, as if solemn\\norgan-pipes should pour out airs of merriment. Not a\\nvoice spoke, but I knew it better than my own not a\\nlaugh, but its cadences were familiar. The wood, in\\nthis portion of it, seemed as full of jollity as if Comus\\nand his crew were holding their revels in one of its usu-\\nally lonesome glades. Stealing onward as far as I durst,\\nwithout hazard of discovery, I saw a concourse of strange\\nfigures beneath the overshadowing branches. They ap-\\npeared, and vanished, and came again, confusedly, with\\nthe streaks of sunlight glimmering down upon them.\\nAmong them was an Indian chief, with blanket, feath-\\ners and war-paint, and uplifted tomahawk and near\\nhim, looking fit to be his woodland-bride, the goddess\\nDiana, with the crescent on her head, and attended by\\nour big lazy dog, in lack of any fleeter hound. Draw-\\ning an arrow from her quiver, she let it fly at a venture,\\nand hit the very tree behind which I happened to be lurk-\\ning. Another group consisted of a Bavarian broom-girl,\\na negro of the Jim Crow order, one or two foresters of\\nthe middle ages, a Kentucky woodsman in his trimmed\\nhunting-shirt and deerskin leggings, and a Shaker elder,\\nquaint, demure, broad -brimmed, and square-skirted.\\nShepherds of Arcadia, and allegoric figures from the\\nFaerie Queen, were oddly mixed up with these. Arm\\nin arm, or otherwise huddled together in strange dis-\\ncrepancy, stood grim Puritans, gay Cavaliers, and Re*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0574.jp2"}, "573": {"fulltext": "-HE MASQUERADERS.\\n245\\nrtfcArfiuiy officers with th.**/; \u00c2\u00ab#iiieicd cocked hats, and\\nqueues longer than their swords. A bright-complex*\\nwned. dark-haired, vivacious little gypsy, with a red\\nshawl over her head, went from one group to another\\ntelling fortunes by palmistry; and Moll Pitcher, the\\nrenowned old witch of Lynn, broomstick in hand, showed\\nherself prominently in the midst, as if announcing all\\nthese apparitions to be the offspring of her necromantic\\nart. But Silas Foster, who leaned against a tree near\\nby, in his customary blue frock, and smoking a short\\npipe, did more to disenchant the scene, with his look of\\nshrewd, acrid, Yankee observation, than twenty witches\\nand necromancers could have done in the way of ren-\\ndering it weird and fantastic.\\nA little further off, some old-fashioned skinkers and\\ndrawers, all with portentously red noses, were spread-\\ning a banquet on the leaf-strewn earth while a horned\\nand long-tailed gentleman (in whom I recognized the\\nfiendish musician erst seen by Tam O\u00e2\u0080\u0099Shanter) tuned\\nhis fiddle, and summoned the whole motley rout to a\\ndance, before partaking of the festal cheer. So they\\njoined hands in a circle, whirling round so swiftly, so\\nmadly, and so merrily, in time and tune with the Sa-\\ntanic music, that their separate incongruities were\\nolended all together, and they became a kind of en-\\ntanglement that went nigh to turn one\u00e2\u0080\u0099s brain with\\nmerely looking at it. Anon they stopt all of a sudden,\\nand staring at one another\u00e2\u0080\u0099s figures, set up a roar of\\nlaughter; whereat a shower of the September leaves\\n(which, all day long, had been hesitating whether to fall\\nor no) were shaken off by the movement of the air, ind\\ncame eddying down upon the revellers", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0575.jp2"}, "574": {"fulltext": "246\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nThen, for lack of breath, ensued a silence at the\\ndeepest point of which, tickled by the oddity of surprising\\nmy grave associates in this masquerading trim, I could\\nnot possibly refrain from a burst of laughter on my own\\nseparate account\\nHush I heard the pretty gypsy fortune-teller say\\nWho is that laughing\\nSome profane intruder said the goddess Diana.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cI shall send an arrow through his heart, or change him\\ninto a stag, as I did Actason he peeps from behind the\\ntrees\\nMe take his scalp cried the Indian chief, brandish-\\ning his tomahawk, and cutting a great caper in the air.\\nI \u00e2\u0080\u0099U root him in the earth with a spell that I halt*\\nat my tongue\u00e2\u0080\u0099s end squeaked Moll Pitcher. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAnd the\\ngreen moss skill grow all over him, before he gets free\\nagain\\nThe voice was Miles Coverdale\u00e2\u0080\u0099s,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said the fiendish\\nfiddler, with a whisk of his tail and a toss of his horns.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cMy music has brought him hither. He is always\\nready to dance to the devil\u00e2\u0080\u0099s tune\\nThus put on the right track, they all recognized the\\nvoice at once, and set up a simultaneous shout.\\nMiles Miles Miles Coverdale, where are you\\nthey :ried. Zenobia Queen Zenobia here is one of\\nyour vassals lurking in the wood. Command him to\\napproach, and pay his duty\\nThe whole fantastic rabble forthwith streamed off :ri\\npursuit of me, so that I was like a mad poet hunted by\\nchimeras. Having fairly the start of them, however, i\\nsucceeded in making my escape, and soon left theif\\nmerriment and riot at a good distance in the rear, its", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0576.jp2"}, "575": {"fulltext": "THE MASQUERADERS.\\n247\\nfainter tones assumed a kind of mournfulness, and w \u00e2\u0080\u0098re\\nfinally lost in the hush and solemnity of the wood. In\\nmy haste, I stumbled over a heap of logs and sticks that\\nhad been cut for fire-wood, a great while ago, by some\\nformer possessor of the soil, and piled up square, in\\norder to be carted or sledu^d away to the farm-house.\\nBut, being forgotten, they had lain there peihaps fifty\\nyears, and possibly much longer until, by the accumu-\\nlation of moss, and the leaves falling over them and\\ndecaying there, from autumn to autumn, a green mound\\nwas formed, in which the softened outline of the wood-\\npile was siill perceptible. In the fitful mood that then\\nswayed my mind, I found something strangely affecting\\nin this simple circumstance. I imagined the long-dead\\nwoodman, and his long-dead wife and children, coming\\nout of their chill graves, and essaying to make a fire with\\nthis heap of mossy fuel\\nFrom this spot I strayed onward, quite lost in reverie,\\nand neither knew nor cared whither I was going, until\\na low, soft, well-remembered voice spoke, at a little\\ndistance.\\nThere is Mr. Coverdale\\nMiles Coverdale said another voice, and its\\ntones were very stern. \u00e2\u0080\u009cLet him come forward, then!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYes, Mr. Coverdale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s voice, clear\\nand melodious, but, just then, with something unnatural\\nin its chord, you are welcome But you come half\\nan hour too late, and have missed a scene which you\\nwould have enjoyed\\nI looked up, and found myself nigh Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit, at\\nthe base of which sat Hollingsworth, with Priscilla at\\nhis f eet, and Zenobia standing before them.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0577.jp2"}, "576": {"fulltext": "XXV.\\nTHE THREE TOGETHER.\\nHollingsworth was in his ordinary working-dress.\\nPriscilla wore a pretty and simple gown, with a kerchief\\nabout her neck, and a calash, which she had flung back\\nfrom her head, leaving it suspended by the strings.\\nBut Zenobia (whose part among the maskers, as may\\nbe supposed, was no inferior one) appeared in a costume\\nof fanciful magnificence, with her jewelled flower as the\\ncentral ornament of what resembled a leafy crown, or\\ncoronet. She represented the oriental princess by\\nwhose name we were accustomed to know her. Her\\nattitude was free and noble yet, if a queen\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, it was not\\nthat of a queen triumphant, but dethroned, on trial for\\nher life, or, perchance, condemned, already. The spirit\\nof the conflict seemed, nevertheless, to be alive in her.\\nHer eyes were on fire her cheeks had each a crimson\\nspot, so exceedingly vivid, and marked with so definite\\nan outline, that I at first doubted whether it were not\\nartificial. In a very brief space, however, this idea was\\nshamed by the paleness that ensued, as the blood sunk\\nsuddenly away. Zenobia now looked like marble.\\nOne always feels the fact, in an instant, when he has\\nintruded on those who love, or those who hate, at some\\nacme of their passion that puts them into a sphere of\\ntheir own, where no other spirit can pretend to stand on\\nequal ground with them, i was confused, affected", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0578.jp2"}, "577": {"fulltext": "THE THREE TOGETHER.\\n249\\neven with a species of terror, and wished myself away\\nThe intentness of their feelings gave them the exclusive\\nproperty of the soil and atmosphere, and left me no right\\nto be or breathe there.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cHollingsworth, Zenobia, I have just returned\\nto Blithedale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, and had no thought of finding\\nyou here. We shall meet again al the house. I will\\nretire.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThis place is free to you,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hollingsworth.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cAs free as to ourselves,\u00e2\u0080\u009d added Zenobia. \u00e2\u0080\u009cThis\\nlong while past, you have been following up your game,\\ngroping for human emotions in the dark corners of the\\nheart. Had you been here a little sooner, you might\\nhave seen them dragged into the daylight. I could\\neven wish to have my trial over again, with you stand-\\nlg by to see fair play Do you know, Mr. Coverdale,\\nj. have been on trial for my life\\nShe laughed, while speaking thus. But, in truth, as\\nmy eyes wandered from one of the group to another, I\\nsaw in Hollingsworth all that an artist could desire for\\nthe grim portrait of a Puritan magistrate holding inquest\\nof life and death in a case of witchcraft in Zenobia,\\nthe sorceress herself, not aged, wrinkled and decrepit, but\\nfair enough to tempt Satan with a force reciprocal to his\\nown and, in Priscilla, the pale victim, whose scul\\nand body had been wasted by her spells. Had a pile\\nof fagots been heaped against the rock, this hint of\\nimpending doom would have completed the suggestive\\npicture.\\nIt was too hard upon me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d continued Zenobia, ad-\\ndressing Hollingsworth, th it judge, jury and accuser,\\nsh .uld all lie comprehendel in one man l demur, n", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0579.jp2"}, "578": {"fulltext": "250\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nI thkik the lawyers say, to the jurisdiction. But let the\\nlearned Judge Coverdale seat himself on the top of the\\nrock, and you and me stand at its base, side by side\\npleading our cause before him There might, at least,\\nbe two criminals, instead of one.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYou forced this on me,\u00e2\u0080\u009d replied Hollingsworth\\nlooking her sternly in the face. Did I call you hither\\nfrom among the masqueraders yonder Do I assume to\\nbe your judge? No; except so far as I have an unques-\\ntionable right of judgment, in order to settle my own\\nline of behavior towards those with whom the events of\\nlife bring me in contact. True, I have already judged\\nyou, but not on the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s part, neither do I pretend\\nto pass a sentence\\nAh, this is very good said Zenobia, with a smile.\\nWhat strange beings you men are, Mr. Coverdale\\nis it not so It is the simplest thing in the world with\\nyou to bring a woman before your secret tribunals, and\\njudge and condemn her unheard, and then tell her to\\ngo free without a sentence. The misfortune is, that this\\nsame secret tribunal chances to be the only judgment-\\nseat that a true woman stands in awe of, and that\\nany verdict short of acquittal is equivalent to a death-\\nsentence\\nThe more I looked at them, and the more I heard, the\\nstronger grew my impression that a crisis had just come\\nand gone. On Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s brow it had left a stamp\\njke that of irrevocable doom, of which his own will was\\nthe instrument. In Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s whole person, beholding\\nher more closely, I saw a riotous agitation the almost\\ndelirious disquietude of a great struggle, at the cltse jf\\nwhich the vaniqi ished one felt her strength and courage", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0580.jp2"}, "579": {"fulltext": "THF. THREE TOGETHER.\\n25\\\\\\nsill, mighty within her, and longed to renew the contest\\nMy sensations were as if I had come upon a battle-field\\nbefore the smoke was as yet cleared away\\nAnd what subjects had been discussed here All, no\\ndoubt, that for so many months past had kept my heart\\nand my imagination idly feverish. Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s whole\\ncharacter and history; the true nature of her mys-\\nterious connection with Westervelt; her later purposes\\ntowards Hollingsworth, and, reciprocally, his in refer-\\nence to her and, finally, the degree in which Zenobia\\nhad been cognizant of the plot against Priscilla, and\\nwhat, at last, had been the real object of that scheme.\\nOn these points, as before, I was left to my own conjec-\\ntures. One thing, only, was certain. Zenobia and Hol-\\nlingsworth were friends no longer. If their heart-strings\\nwere ever intertwined, the knot had been adjudged an\\nentanglement, and was now violently broken.\\nBut Zenobia seemed unable to rest content with the\\nmatter in the posture which it had assumed.\\nAh do we part so exclaimed she, seeing Hol-\\nlingsworth about to retire.\\nAnd why not said he, with almost rude abrupt-\\nness. What is there further to be said between uj\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, perhaps nothing,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Zenobia, looking\\nhim in the face, and smiling. But we have come,\\nmany times before, to this gray rock, and we have talked\\nvery softly among the whisperings of the birch-trees.\\nThey were pleasant hours I love to make the latest\\nof them, though not altogether so delightful, loiter away\\nas slowly as may be. And, besides, you have put many\\nqueries to me at this, which you design to be our last,\\ninterview and being driven, as I must acknowledge,", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0581.jp2"}, "580": {"fulltext": "352\\nTHE BLITHE HALE ROMANCE.\\ninto a corner, I have responded with reasonable frank\\naess. But, now, with your free consent, I desire the\\nprivilege of asking a few questions, in my turn.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI have no concealments,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWe shall see,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Zenobia. \u00e2\u0080\u009c1 would first\\ninquire whether you have supposed me to be wealthy 2\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cOn that point,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed Hollingsworth, \u00e2\u0080\u009cI have\\nhad the opinion which the world holds.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd I held it, likewise,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Zenobia. Had 1\\nnot, Heaven is my witness, the knowledge should have\\nbeen as free to you as me. It is only three days since j\\nknew the strange fact that threatens to make me poor;\\nand your own acquaintance with it, I suspect, is of at\\nleast as old a date. I fancied myself affluent. You are\\naware, too, of the disposition which I purposed making\\nof the larger portion of my imaginary opulence nay,\\nwere it all, I had not hesitated. Let me ask you, fur-\\nther, did I ever propose or intimate any terms of com-\\npact, on which depended this as the world would con-\\nsider it so important sacrifice\\nYou certainly spoke of none,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth.\\nNor meant any,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she responded. I was willing to\\nrealize your dream, freely, generously, as some might\\nthink, but, at all events, fully, and heedless though it\\nshould prove the ruin of my fortune. If, in your own\\nthoughts, you have imposed any conditions of this ex\\npenditure, it is you that must be held responsible foi\\nwhatever is sordid and unworthy in them. And now\\none other question. Do you love this girl\\nO, Zenobia exclaimed Priscilla, shrinking back\\nus if longing for the rock to topple over and hide her\\nDo you love her repeated Zenobia", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0582.jp2"}, "581": {"fulltext": "THE TFREE TOGETHER.\\n2hJ\\nHad you asked mo chat question a short time since/\\nReplied Hollingsworth, after a pause, during which, it\\nseemed to me, even the birch-trees held their whispering\\nbreath, I should have told you No My feelings\\nfor Priscilla differed little from those of an elder brother,\\nwatching tenderly over the gentle sister whom Gd has\\ngiven him to protect.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nAnd what is your answer now persisted Zenobia.\\nJ do love her said Hollingsworth, uttering the\\nwords with a deep inward breath, instead of speaking\\nthem outright. \u00e2\u0080\u009cAs well declare it thus as in an/\\nother way. I do love her\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNow, God be judge between us,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried Zenobia\\nbreaking into sudden passion, which of us two has most\\nmortally offended him At least, I am a woman, with\\nevery mult, it may be, that a woman ever had, weak\\nvam, unprincipled (like most of my sex for our virtues,\\nwhen we have any, are merely impulsive and intuitive)\\npassionate, too, and pursuing my foolish and unattain-\\nable ends by indirect and cunning, though absurdly\\nchosen means, as an hereditary bond-slave must false,\\nmoreover, to the whole circle of good, in my reckless\\ntruth to the little good I saw before me, but still a\\nwoman! A creature whom only a little change of\\nearthly fortune, a little kinder smile of Him who sent\\nme hither, and one true heart to encourage and direct\\nme, might have made all that a woman can be But\\nhow is it with you? Are you a man? No, but a\\nmonster A cold, heartless, self-beginning and self-\\nending piece of mechanism\\nWith what, then, do you charge me asked Hoi\\nlingsworth, aghast and greatly disturbed by this attack", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0583.jp2"}, "582": {"fulltext": "254\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nShow me one selfish end, in all I ever aimed at, and\\nyou may cut it out of my bosom with a knife\\nIt is all self!\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Zenobia, with still intensei\\nbitterness. Nothing else nothing but self, self, self!\\nThe fiend, 1 loubt not, has made his choicest mirth of\\nyou, these seven years past, and especially in the mad\\nsummer which we have spent together. I see it now 1\\nI am awake, disenchanted, disenthralled! Self, self,\\nself! You have embodied yourself in a project. You\\nare a better masquerader than the witches and gypsies\\nyonder for your disguise is a self-deception. See\\nwhither it has brought you First, you aimed a death-\\nblow, and a treacherous one, at this scheme of a purer\\nand higher life, which so many noble spirits had wrought\\nout. Then, because Coverdale could not be quite your\\nslave, you threw him ruthlessly away. And you took\\nme, too, into your plan, as long as there was hope of my\\nbeing available, and now fling me aside again, a broken\\ntool But, foremost and blackest of your sins, you\\nstifled down your inmost consciousness you did it\\ndeadly wrong to your own heart you were ready to\\nsacrifice this girl, whom, if God ever visibly showed a\\npurpose, he put into your charge, and through whom he\\nwas striving to redeem you\\nThis is a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s view,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth, grow-\\ning deadly pale \u00e2\u0080\u009ca woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, whose whole sphere of\\naction is in the heart, and who can conceive of no higher\\nnor wider one\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cBe silent!\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried Zenobir imperiously. \u00e2\u0080\u009cYou\\nJmi uv neither man nor woman! The utmost that ran\\nbe said in your behalf, and because I would not be\\nwholly lespbable in my own eyes, but would fa n", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0584.jp2"}, "583": {"fulltext": "THE THREE TOGETHER.\\n255\\n2xcuse my wasted feelings, nor own it wholly a delu-\\nsion, thereiore I say it, is, that a great and rich heart\\nhas been ruined in your breast. Leave me, now. You\\nhave done with me, and I with you. Farewell\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cPrisciHa,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth, \u00e2\u0080\u009ccome.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nZenobia smiled; possibly I did so too. Not often,\\nm human life, has a gnawing sense of injury found\\na sweeter morsel of revenge than was conveyed in\\nthe tone with wh ch Hollingsworth spoke those two\\nwords. It was the abased and tremulous tone of a man\\nwhose faith in himself was shaken, and who sought, at\\nlast, to lean on an affection. Yes; the strong man\\nbowed himself, and rested on this poor Priscilla O\\ncould she have failed him, what a triumph for the\\nlookers-on\\nAnd, at first, I half imagined that she was about to\\nfail him. She rose up, stood shivering like the birch-\\nleaves that trembled over her head, and then slowly\\ntottered, rather than walked, towards Zenobia. Arriving\\nat her feet, she sark down there, in the very same atti-\\ntude which she had assumed on their first meeting, in\\nthe kitchen of the old farm-house. Zenobia remem-\\nbered it.\\nAh, Priscilla said she, shaking her head, how\\nmuch is changed since then You kneel to a dethroned\\nprincess You, the victorious one! But he is waiting\\nfor you. Say what you wish, and leave me.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWe are sisters gasped Priscilla.\\nI fancied that I understood the word and action. It\\n*ieant tne offering of herself, and all she had, to be at\\nZenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s disposal. But the latter woild 1 ct take u\\nthus", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0585.jp2"}, "584": {"fulltext": "6 THE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nTrue, wc are sisters she replied and, moved by\\nthe sweet word, she stooped down and kissed Priscilla\\nbut not lovingly, for a sense of fatal harm received\\nthrough her seemed to be lurking in Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWe had one father! You knew it from the first; I,\\nbut a little while else some things that have chanced\\nmight have been spared you. But I never wished you\\nharm. You stood between me and an end which 1\\ndesired. 1 wanted a clear path. No matter what\\nmeant. It is over now. Do you forgive me\\nO, Zenobia,\u00e2\u0080\u009d sobbed Priscilla, it is I that feel like\\nthe guilty one\\nNo, no, poor little thing said Zenobia, with a sort\\nof contempt. \u00e2\u0080\u009cYou have been my evil fate but there\\nnever was a babe with less strength or will to do an\\ninjury. Poor child Methinks you have but a melan-\\ncholy lot before you, sitting all alone in that wide,\\ncheerless heart, where, for aught you know, and as I,\\nalas believe, the fire which you have kindled may\\nsoon go out. Ah, the thought makes me shiver for you\\nWhat will you do, Priscilla, when you find no spark\\namong the ashes\\nDie she answered.\\nThat was well said responded Zenobia, with an\\napproving smile. There is all a woman in your little\\ncompass, my poor sister. Meanwhile, go ,vith him, and\\nlive\\nShe waved her away, with a queenl/- gesture, and\\nturned her own face to the rock. I watched Priscilla,\\nwondering what judgment she would pass between\\nZenobia and Hollingsworth how interpret his behavior,\\nso as to reconcile it with true faith both towards hei", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0586.jp2"}, "585": {"fulltext": "THE THREE TOGETHER.\\n251\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2sister and herself; how compel her love for him to keep\\nany terms whatever with her sisterly affection But, in\\ntruth, theie was no sucn difficulty as I imagined. Her\\nengrossing love made it all clear. Hollingsworth could\\nhave no fault. That was the one principle at the centre\\nf the universe. And the doubtful guilt or possible\\nintegrity of other people, appearances, self-evident facts\\nthe testimony of her own senses, even Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nGelf-accusation, had he volunteered it, would have\\nweighed not the value of a mote of thistle-down on the\\nother side. So secure was she of his right, that she\\nnever thought of comparing it with another\u00e2\u0080\u0099s wrong, but\\nleft the latter to itself.\\nHollingsworth drew her arm within his, and soon dis-\\nappeared with her among the trees. 1 cannot imagine\\nhow Zenobia knew when they were out of sight she\\nnever glanced again towards them. But, retaining a\\nproud attitude so long as they might have thrown back\\na retiring look, they were no sooner departed, utterly\\ndeparted, than she began slowly to sink down. It was\\nas if a great, invisible, irresistible weight were pressing\\nher to the earth. Settling upon her knees, she leaned\\nher forehead against the rock, and sobbed convulsively\\ndry sobs they seemed to be, such as have nothing to dc\\nwith tears.\\n17", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0587.jp2"}, "586": {"fulltext": "XXVI.\\nZENOBIA AND COVERDALE.\\nZenobia had entirely forgotten me. She fancied\\nherself alone with her great grief. And had it been\\nonly a common pity that I felt for her, the pity that\\nher proud nature would have repelled, as the one worst\\nwrong which the world yet held in reserve, the sacred-\\nness and awfulness of the crisis might have impelled me\\nto steal away silently, so that not a dry leaf should\\nrustle under my feet. I would have left her to struggle,\\nin that solitude, with only the eye of God upon her.\\nBut, so it happened, I never once dreamed of question-\\ning my right to be there now, as I had questioned it\\njust before, when I came so suddenly upon Hollings-\\nworth and herself, in the passion of their recent debate.\\nIt suits me not to explain what was the analogy that 1\\nsaw, or imagined, between Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s situation and mine;\\nimr, I believe, will the reader detect this one secret,\\nhidden beneath many a revelation which perhaps con-\\ncerned me less. In simple truth however, as Zenobia\\nleaned her forehead against the rock, shaken with that\\ntearless agony, it seemed to me that the self-same pang\\nwith hardly mitigated torment, leaped thrilling from hei\\nneart-strings to my own. Was it wrong, therefore, if I\\nfelt myself consecrated to the priesthood by sympathy\\nlike this, and called upon to minister to this woman s\\naffliction, so far as mortal could", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0588.jp2"}, "587": {"fulltext": "ZENOBIA AND COVERDALE.\\n259\\nBui., indeed, what could mortal do for her? Nothing!\\nThe attempt would be a mockery and an anguish.\\nTime, it is true, would steal away her grief and bury\\nand the best of her heart in the same grave But Des-\\ntiny itself, methought, in its kindliest mood, could di\\nno better for Zenobia, in the way of quick relief, than to\\ncause the impending rock to impend a little further, and\\nfall upon her head. So I leaned against a tree, and\\nlistened to her sobs, in unbroken silence. She was half\\nprostrate, half kneeling, with her forehead still pressed\\nagainst the rock. Her sobs were the only sound she\\ndid not groan, nor give any other utterance to her dis-\\ntress. It was all involuntary.\\nAt length, she sat up, put back her hair, and stared\\nabout hei with a bewildered aspect, as if not distinctly\\nrecollecting the scene through which she had passed,\\nnor cognizant of the situation in which it left her. Her\\nface and brow were almost purple with the rush of blood.\\nThey whitened, however, by and by, and for some time\\nretained this death-like hue. She put her hand to her\\nforehead, with a gesture that made me forcibly conscious\\nof an intense and living pain there.\\nHer glance, wandering wildly to and fro, passed over\\nme several times, without appearing to inform her of\\nmy presence. But, finally, a look of recognition\\ngleamed from her eyes into mine.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cIs it you, Miles Coverdale?\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, smiling,\\nAh, perceive what you are about You are turning\\nthis whole affair into a ballad. Pray let me hear as\\nmany stanzas as you happen to have ready\\nO, hush, Zenobia I answered. Heaven know*\\nwhat an acne is in my soul", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0589.jp2"}, "588": {"fulltext": "260\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nIt is genuine tragedy, is it not rejoined Zenobia\\nwith a sharp, light laugh. And you are willing to\\nallow, peihaps, that I have had hard measure. But it is\\na woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s doom, and I have deserved it like a woman\\nso let there be no pity, as, on my part, there shall be no\\ncomplaint. It is all right, now, or will shortly be so.\\nBut, Mr. Coverdale, by all means write this ballad, and\\nput your soul\u00e2\u0080\u0099s ache into it, and turn your sympathy to\\ngood account, as other poets do, and as poets must,\\nunless they choose to give us glittering icicles instead of\\nlines of fire. As for the moral, it shall be distilled into\\nthe final stanza, in a drop of bitter honey.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhat shall it be, Zenobia I inquired, endeavor-\\ning to fall in with her mood.\\nO, a very old one will serve the purpose,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she\\nreplied. There are no new truths, much as we have\\nprided ourselves on finding some. A moral Why,\\nthis that, in the battle-field of life, the downright\\nstroke, that would fall only on a man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s steel head-piece,\\nis sure to light on a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart, over which she\\nwears no breastplate, and whose wisdom it is, therefore,\\nto keep out of the conflict. Or, this that the whole\\nuniverse, her own sex and yours, and Providence, or\\nDestiny, to boot, make common cause against the\\nwoman who swerves one hair\u00e2\u0080\u0099s breadth out of the beaten\\ntrack. Yes and add (for I may as well own it, now)\\nthat, with that one hair\u00e2\u0080\u0099s breadth, she goes all astray\\nand never sees the world in its true aspect afterwards\\nThis last is too stern a moral,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I observed. Can\\nnot we soften it a little\\nDo it, if you like, at your own peril, not on mj\\nresponsibility,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she answered. Then, with a sudden", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0590.jp2"}, "589": {"fulltext": "7.EN0BIA AND COVERDALE.\\n2b 1\\nchange of subject, she went on After all, ne has\\nHung away what would have served him better than\\nthe poor, pale flower he kept. What can Priscilla do\\nfor him Put passionate warmth into his heart, when\\nit shall be chilled with frozen hopes? Strengthen his\\nhonds, when they are weary with much doing and no\\nperformance No but only tend towards him with a\\nblind, instinctive love, and hang her little, puny weak\\nness for a clog upon his arm She cannot even give\\nhim such sympathy as is worth the name. For will he\\nnever, in many an hour of darkness, need that proud\\nintellectual sympathy which he might have had from\\nme the sympathy that would flash light along his\\ncourse, and guide as well as cheer him Poor Hoi*\\nlingsworth Where will he find it now\\nHollingsworth has a heart of ice said I, bitterly.\\nHe is a wretch\\nDo him no wrong,\u00e2\u0080\u009d interrupted Zenobia, turning\\nhaughtily upon me. Presume not to estimate a man\\nlike Hollingsworth. It was my fault, all along, and none\\nof his. I see it now He never sought me. Why\\nshould he seek me What had I to offer him A\\nmiserable, bruised and battered heart, spoilt long before\\nhe met me. A life, too, hopelessly entangled with a vil-\\nlain\u00e2\u0080\u0099s He did well to cast me off. God be praised,\\nhe did it And yet, had he trusted me, and borne\\nwith me a little longer, I would have saved him all this\\ntrouble.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nShe was silent for a time, and stood with her eyes\\nfixed on the ground. Again raising them, her look wa\u00c2\u00ab\\nmore mild and calm.\\nMiles Coverdale said she.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0591.jp2"}, "590": {"fulltext": "262\\nTHE BLITHEDALE KOMANCK\\nWell, Zenobia,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I responded. Can Ido ^ou any\\nservice\\nVery little,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she replied. \u00e2\u0080\u009cBut it is my purpose, as\\nyou may well imagine, to remove from Blithedale and,\\nmost likely, I may not see Hollingsworth again. A\\nwoman in my position, you understand, feels scarcely at\\nher ease among former friends. New faces unaccus-\\ntomed looks those only can she tolerate. She would\\npine among familiar scenes she would be apt to blush,\\ntoo, under the eyes that knew her secret her heart might\\nthrob uncomfortably she would mortify herself, I sup-\\npose, with foolish notions of having sacrificed the honor\\nof her sex at the foot of proud, contumacious man.\\nPoor womanhood, with its rights and wrongs! Here\\nwill be new matter for my course of lectures, at the idea\\nof which you smiled, Mr. Coverdale, a month or two\\nago. But, as you have really a heart and sympathies,\\nas far as they go, and as I shall depart without seeing\\nHollingsworth, I must entreat you to be a messenger\\nbetween him and me.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWillingly,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, wondering at the strange way in\\nwhich her mind seemed to vibrate from the deepest ear-\\nnest to mere levity. What is the message\\nTrue, what is it? exclaimed Zenobia. After\\nall, I hardly know. On better consideration, I have no\\nmessage. Tell him, tell him something pretty and\\npathetic, that will come nicely and sweetly into your\\nballad, anything you please, so it be tender and\\nsubmissive enough. Tell him he has murdered me\\nTell him that I \u00e2\u0080\u0099ll haunt him she spoke these\\nwords with the wildest energy. And give him nr\\ngive Pc sc ill? this", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0592.jp2"}, "591": {"fulltext": "ZENOBIA AND COVERDALE.\\n2f\u00c2\u00bb3\\nThus saying. she took the jewelled flower out of lit r\\nhaj and it struck me as the act of a queen, when\\nworsted in a combat, discrowning herself, as if she found\\na sort of relief in abusing all her pride.\\nBid her weax this for Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sake,\u00e2\u0080\u009d she continued.\\nShe is a pretty little creature, and will make as soft\\nand gentle a wife as the veriest Bluebeard could desire.\\nPity that she must fade so soon These delicate and\\np.my maidens always do. Ten years hence, let Hol-\\nlingsworth look at my face and Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s, and then\\nchoose betwixt them. Or, if he pleases, let him do it\\nnow.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHow magnificently Zenobia looked, as she said this\\nThe effect of her beauty was even heightened by the\\nover-consciousness and self-recognition of it, into which,\\nI suppose, Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s scorn had driven her. She\\nunderstood the look of admiration in my face and\\nZenobn o the last it gave her pleasure.\\nIt is an endless pity,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she, that I had not\\nbethought myself of winning your heart, Mr. Coverdale,\\ninstead of Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s. I think I should have suc-\\nceeded and many women would have deemed you the\\nworthier conquest of the two. You are certainly much\\nthe handsomest man. But there is a fate in these\\nthings. And beauty, in a man, has been of little\\naccount with me, since my earliest girlhood, when, la\\nonce, it turned my head. Now, farewell\\nZenobia, whither are you going I asked.\\nNo matter where,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said she. But I am weary of\\nthis place, and sick to death of playing at philanthropy\\nand progress. Of all varieties of mock-life, we have\\nsurely b. unde red into the very emptiest mocktsrv in", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0593.jp2"}, "592": {"fulltext": "264\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\neffort to establish the one true system. I have done\\nwith it; anl Blithedale must find another woman to\\nsuperintend the laundry, and you, Mr. Coverdale,\\nanother nurse to make your gruel, the next time you fall\\nill. It was, indeed, a foolish dream Yet it gave us\\nsome pleasant summer days, and bright hopes, while\\nthey lasted. It can do no more nor will it avail us to\\nshed tears over a broken bubble. Here is my hand\\nAdieu!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nShe gave me her hand, with the same free, whole-\\nsouled gesture as on the first afternoon of our acquaint-\\nance and, being greatly moved, I bethought me of no\\nbetter method of expressing my deep sympathy than to\\ncarry it to my lips. In so doing, I perceived that this\\nwhite hand so hospitably warm when I first touched\\nit, five months since was now cold as a veritable piece\\nof snow.\\nHow very cold I exclaimed, holding it between\\nboth my own, with the vain idea of warming it. What\\ncan be the reason It is really death-like\\nThe extremities die first, they say,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Zeno-\\nbia, laughing. And so you kiss this poor, despised,\\nrejected hand! Well, my dear friend, I thank you. You\\nhave reserved your homage for the fallen. Lip of man\\nwill never touch my hand again. I intend to become a\\nCatholic, for the sake of going into a nunnery. When\\nyou next hear of Zenobia, her face will be behind the\\nblack veil so look your last at it now for all is over\\nOnce more, farewell\\nShe withdrew her hand, yet left a lingering pressure,\\nwhich I felt long afterwards. So intimately connecter\\nas I had been with perhaps the only man in whom she", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0594.jp2"}, "593": {"fulltext": "ZENOBIA AND COVER DALE.\\n265\\nwas eve/ truly interested, Zenobia looked on me as the\\nrepresentative of all the past, and was conscious that, in\\nbidding me adieu, she likewise took final leave of Hol-\\nlingsworth, and of this whole epoch of her life. Never\\ndid her beauty shine out more lustrously than in the\\nlast glimpse that I had of her. She departed, and was\\nsoon hidden among the trees.\\nBut, whether it was the strong impression of the fore-\\ngoing scene, or whatever else the cause, I was affected\\nwith a fantasy that Zenobia had not actually gone, but\\nwas still hovering about the spot and haunting it. I\\nseemed to feel her eyes upon me. It was as if the vivid\\ncoloring of her character had left a brilliant stain upon\\nthe air. By degrees, how r ever, the impression grew less\\ndistinct. I flung myself upon the fallen leaves at the\\nbase of Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit. The sunshine withdrew up the\\ntree-trunks, and flickered on the topmost boughs gray\\ntwilight made the w r ood obscure; the stars brightened\\nout the pendent boughs became wet with chill autumnal\\ndews. But I was listless, worn out with emotion on my\\nown behalf and sympathy for others, and had no heart\\nto leave my comfortless lair beneath the rock.\\nI must have fallen asleep, and had a dream, all the\\ncircumstances of which utterly vanished at the moment\\nwhen they converged to some tragical catastrophe, and\\nthus grew too powerful for the thin sphere of slumber that\\nenveloped them. Starting from the ground, I found the\\nrisen moon shining upon the rugged face of the jock;\\nand myself all in a tremble.", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0595.jp2"}, "594": {"fulltext": "XXVII.\\nMIDNIGHT.\\nIt could not have been far from midnight when I\\ncame beneath Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s window, and, finding it\\nopen, flung in a tuft of grass with earth at the roots, and\\nheard it fall upon the floor. He was either awake or\\nsleeping very lightly for scarcely a moment had gone\\nby, before he looked out, and discerned me standing in\\nthe moonlight.\\nIs it you, Coverdale he asked. What is the\\nmatter\\nCome down to me, Hollingsworth I answered.\\nI am anxious to speak with you.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThe strange tone of my own voice startled me, and\\nhim, probably, no less. He lost no time, and soon issued\\nfrom the house-door, with his dress half arranged.\\nAgain, what is the matter he asked, impatiently.\\nHave you seen Zenobia,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, since you parted\\nfrom her, at Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNo,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Hollingsworth; \u00e2\u0080\u009cnor did I expect\\nit.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHis voice was deep, but had a tremor in it. Hardly\\nhad he spoken, when Silas Foster thrust his head, done\\nup in a cotton handkerchief, out of another window, and\\ntook what he called as it literally was a squint a\\nus\\nWed, folks, w hat are ye about here he demanded", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0596.jp2"}, "595": {"fulltext": "MIDNIGHT.\\n267\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2Aha. are you there, Miles Coverdale? You have\\nbeen turning night into day, since you left us, I reckon\\nand so you find it quite natural to come prowling about\\nthe house at this time o\u00e2\u0080\u0099 night, frightening my old\\nwoman out of her wits, and making her disturb a tired\\nman out of his best nap. In with you, you vagabond,\\nand to bed\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cDress yourself quietly, Foster,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I. \u00e2\u0080\u009cWe want\\nyour assistance.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nI could not, for the life of me, keep that strange tone\\nout of my voice. Silas Foster, obtuse as were his sensi-\\nbilities, seemed to feel the ghastly earnestness that was\\nconveyed in it as well as Hollingsworth did. He\\nimmediately withdrew his head, and I heard him yawn-\\ning, muttering to his wife, and again yawning heavily,\\nwhile he hurried on his clothes. Meanwhile, I showed\\nHollingsworth a delicate handkerchief, marked with a\\nwell-known cipher, and told where I had found it, and\\nother circumstances, which had filled me with a suspicion\\nso terrible that I left him, if he dared, to shape it out for\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2himself. By the time my brief explanation was finished,\\nwe were joined by Silas Foster, in his blue woolJen\\nfrock.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, boys,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried he, peevishly, \u00e2\u0080\u009cwhat is to pay\\nnow\\nTell him, Hollingsworth,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I.\\nHollingsworth shivered, perceptibly, and drew in a\\nhard breath betwixt his teeth. He steadied himself,\\nhowever, and, looking the matter more firmly in the\\nface thm I had done, explained to Foster my suspicions,\\nand the grounds of them, with a distinctness from which\\nin spite if my utmost efforts, my w T ords had swerved", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0597.jp2"}, "596": {"fulltext": "263\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\naside. The tough-nerved yeoman, in his comment, pm\\na finish on the business, and brought out the hideous\\nidea in its full terror, as if he were removing the napkin\\nfrom the face of a corpse.\\nAnd so you think she\u00e2\u0080\u0099s drowned herself?\u00e2\u0080\u009d he cried.\\nI turned away my face.\\nWhat on earth should the young woman do that\\nfor exclaimed Silas, his eyes half out of his head with\\nmere surprise. Why, she has more means than she\\ncan use or waste, and lacks nothing to make her com-\\nfortable, but a husband, and that\u00e2\u0080\u0099s an article she could\\nhave, any day. There \u00e2\u0080\u0099s some mistake about this, I tell\\nyou\\nCome,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, shuddering; \u00e2\u0080\u009clet us go and ascertain\\nthe truth.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWell, well,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered Silas Foster; \u00e2\u0080\u009cjust as you\\nsay. We \u00e2\u0080\u0099ll take the long pole, with the hook at the\\nend, that serves to get the bucket out of the draw-well,\\nwhen the rope is broken. With that, and a couple of\\nlong-handled hay-rakes, I \u00e2\u0080\u0099ll answer for finding her, if\\nshe \u00e2\u0080\u0099s anywhere to be found. Strange enough Zenobia\\ndrown herself No, no I don\u00e2\u0080\u0099t believe it. She had\\ntoo much sense, and too much means, and enjoyed life i\\ngreat deal too well.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhen our few preparations were completed, we\\nhastened, by a shorter than the customary route, through\\nfields and pastures, and across a portion of the meadow,\\nto the particular spot on the river-bank which I had\\npaused to contemplate in the course of my afternoon\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nramble. A nameless presentiment had again drawn me\\nthither, ifter leaving Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit. I showed my com\\npanions where I had found the handkerchief, and pointed", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0598.jp2"}, "597": {"fulltext": "MIDNIGHT.\\n269\\nto two or three footsteps, impressed into the clayey mar-\\ngin, and tending towards the water. Beneath its shal-\\nlow verge, among the water-weeds, there were further\\ntraces, as yet unobliterated by the sluggish current,\\nwhich was there almost at a stand-still. Silas Foster\\nthrust his face down close to these footsteps, and picked\\nup a shoe that had escaped my observation being half\\nimbedded in the mud.\\nThere \u00e2\u0080\u0099s a kid shoe that never was made on a Yan-\\nkee last,\u00e2\u0080\u009d observed he. I know enough of shoemaker\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\ncraft to tell that. French manufacture and, see what a\\nhigh instep and how evenly she trod in it There\\nnever was a woman that stept handsomer in her shoe3\\nthan Zenobia did. Here,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he added, addressing Hol-\\nlingsworth would you like to keep the shoe\\nHollingsworth started back.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cGive it to me, Foster,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I.\\nI dabbled it in the water, to rinse off the mud, ana\\nhave kept it ever since. Not far from this spot lay an\\nold, leaky punt, drawn up on the oozy river-side, and\\ngenerally half full of water. It served the angler to go\\nin quest of pickerel, or the sportsman to pick up his wild\\nducks. Setting this crazy bark afloat, I seated myself\\nm the stern with the paddle, while Hollingsworth sat in\\nthe bows with the hooked pole, and Silas Foster amid-\\nships with a hay-rake.\\nIt puts me in mind of my young days,\u00e2\u0080\u009d remarked\\nSilas, when I used to steal out of bed to go bobbing for\\nhorn-pouts and eels. Heigh-ho well, life and death\\ntogether make sad work for us all Then I was a boy,\\nbobbing for fish and now I am getting tc be an old fel-\\nlow, and here I be, groping for a dead body I tell you", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0599.jp2"}, "598": {"fulltext": "270\\nTHE BLITIIEDALh ROMANCE.\\nwhat, lads, if l thought anything had really happened to\\nZenobia, I should feel kind o\u00e2\u0080\u0099 sorrowful.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cI wish, at least, you would hold your tongue,\u00e2\u0080\u009d mut*\\ntered I.\\nThe moon, that night, though past the full, was stiL\u00e2\u0080\u0099\\nlarge and oval, and having risen between eight and nine\\no\u00e2\u0080\u0099clock, now shone aslantwise over the river, throwing\\nthe high, opposite bank, with its woods, into deep\\nshadow, but lighting up the hither shore pretty effectu-\\nally. Not a ray appeared to fall on the river itself. It\\nlapsed imperceptibly away, a broad, black, inscrutable\\ndepth, keeping its own secrets from the eye of man, as\\nimpenetrably as mid-ocean could.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWell, Miles Co verdale,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Foster, \u00e2\u0080\u009cyou are the\\nhelmsman. How do you mean to manage this busi\\nness\\nI shall let the boat drift, broadside foremost, past\\nthat stump,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I replied. \u00e2\u0080\u009cI know the bottom, having\\nsounded it in fishing. The shore, on this side, after the\\nfirst step or two, goes off very abruptly and there is a\\npool, just by the stump, twelve or fifteen feet deep.\\nThe current could not have force enough to sweep any\\nsunken object, even if partially buoyant, out of that h\\\\\\nW.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cCome, then,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Silas; \u00e2\u0080\u009cbut I doubt whether i\\ncan touch bottom with this hay-rake, if it \u00e2\u0080\u0099s as deep as\\njou say. Mr. Hollingsworth, I think you\u00e2\u0080\u0099ll be the\\nlucky man to-night, such luck as it is.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWe floated past the stump. Silas Foster plied his\\nrake manfully, poking it as far as he could into the\\nwater, and immersing the whole length of his arm\\nbesides He jingsworth at first sat motionless, with the", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0600.jp2"}, "599": {"fulltext": "MIDNIGHT.\\n27)\\nnoolced pole elevated in the air. But, by and by, with a\\nnervous and jerky movement, he began to plunge it into\\nthe blackness that upbore us, setting his teeth, and mak-\\ning precisely such thrusts, methought, as if he were\\nstabbing at a deadly enemy. I bent over the side of the\\nboat. So obscure, however, so awfully mysterious, was\\nthat dark stream, that and the thought made me\\nshiver like a leaf I might as well have tried to look\\ninto the enigma of the eternal world, to discover what\\nhad becomq of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s soul, as into the river\u00e2\u0080\u0099s depths,\\nto find her body. And there, perhaps, she lay, with her\\nface upward, while the shadow of the boat, and my\\nown pale face peering downward, passed slowly betwixt\\nher and the sky\\nOnce, twice, thrice, I paddled the boat up stream, and\\nagain suffered it to glide, with the river\u00e2\u0080\u0099s slow, funereal\\nmotion, downward. Silas Foster had raked up a large\\nmass of stuff, which, as it came towards the surface,\\nlooked somewhat like a flowing garment, but proved to\\nbe a monstrous tuft of water-weeds. Hollingsworth,\\nwith a gigantic effort, upheaved a sunken log. When\\nonce free of the bottom, it rose partly out of water, all\\nweedy and slimy, a devilish-looking object, which the\\nir oon had not shone upon for half a hundred years,\\ntnen plunged again, and sullenly returned to its old\\nresting-v lace, for the remnant of the century.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cThat looked ugly!\u00e2\u0080\u009d quoth Silas. \u00e2\u0080\u009cI half thought\\nit was ttie evil one, on the same errand as ourselves,\\nsearching for Zenobia.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHe shall never get her, said I, giving the boat a\\nstrong impulse.\\nThat \u00e2\u0080\u0099s not for you to say, my boy,\u00e2\u0080\u009d retorted the", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0601.jp2"}, "600": {"fulltext": "272\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nyeoman. \u00e2\u0080\u009cPray God he never has, and nweT may\\nSlow work this, however 1 should really be glad to\\nfind something Pshaw What a notion that is, when\\nthe only good luck would be to paddle, and drift, and\\npoke, and grope, hereabouts, till morning, and have our\\nlabor for our pains For my part, I should n\u00e2\u0080\u0099t wonder\\nif the creature had only lost her shoe in the mud, and\\nsaved her soul alive, after all. My stars how she will\\nlaugh at us, to-morrow morning\\nIt is indescribable what an image of Zenobia at the\\nbreakfast-table, full of warm and mirthful life this sur-\\nmise of Silas Foster\u00e2\u0080\u0099s brought before my mind. The\\nterrible phantasm of her death was thrown by it into the\\nremotest and dimmest back-ground, where it seemed to\\ngrow as improbable as a myth.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cYes, Silas, it may be as you say,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried I.\\nThe drift of the stream had again borne us a lit-\\ntle below the stump, when I felt, yes, felt, for it\\nwas as if the iron hook had smote my breast, felt\\nHollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pole strike some object at the bottom\\nof the river He started up, and almost overset the\\nboat.\\nHold on cried Foster; you have her\\nPutting a fury of strength into the effort, Hollings-\\nworth heaved amain, and up came a white swash to\\nthe surface of the river. It was the flow of a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\ngarments. A little higher, and we saw her dark hair\\nstreaming down the current. Black River of Death,\\nthou hadst yielded up thy victim Zenobia was found\\nSilas Foster laid hold of the body; Hollingsworth,\\nlikewise, grappled with it and I steered towards the\\nbank, gazing all the while at Zenobia, whose 1? nbs were", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0602.jp2"}, "601": {"fulltext": "MIDNIGHT.\\n273\\nfcwaying in the current close at the boat\u00e2\u0080\u0099s side. Arriv-\\ning. neir the shore, we all three stept into the water,\\nbore her out, and laid her on the ground beneath a\\ntree.\\nPoor child said Foster, and his dry old heart,\\nI verily believe, vouchsafed a tear, \u00e2\u0080\u009cI\u00e2\u0080\u0099m sorry for\\nher!\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWere I to describe the perfect horror of the spectacle,\\nthe reader might justly reckon it to me for a sin and\\nshame. For more than twelve long years I have borne\\nit in my memory, and could now reproduce it as freshlj\\nas if it were still before my eyes. Of all modes of\\ndeath, methinks it is the ugliest. Her wet garments\\nswathed limbs of terrible inflexibility. She was the\\nmarble image of a death-agony. Her arms had grown\\nrigid in the act of struggling, and were bent before heT\\nwith clenched hands her knees, too, were bent, and\\nthank God for it in the attitude of prayer. Ah, that\\nrigidity It is impossible to bear the terror of it. It\\nseemed, I must needs impart so much of my own mis-\\nerable idea, it seemed as if her body must keep the\\nsame position in the coffin, and that her skeleton would\\nkeep it in the grave and that when Zenobia rose at the\\nday of judgment, it would be in just the same attitude\\nas now\\nOne hope I had and that, too, was mingled half with\\nfear. She knelt, as if in prayer. With the last, chok\\ning consciousness, her soul, bubbling out through her\\nlips, it may be, had given itself up to the Father, recon-\\nciled and penitent. But her arms They were bent\\nbefore hot, as if she struggled against Providence ir\\nIS", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0603.jp2"}, "602": {"fulltext": "274\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nnever-ending hostility. Her hands They weie clenched\\nin imm itigable defiance. Away with the hideous thought\\nThe flitting moment after Zenobia sank into the dark\\npool when her breath was gone, and her soul at her\\nlips was as long, in its capacity of God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s infinite foj-\\ngiveness, as the lifetime of the world\\nFoster bent over the body, and carefully examined h,\\nYou have wounded the poor thing\u00e2\u0080\u0099s breast,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said ho\\nto Hollingsworth close by her heart, too\\nHa cried Hollingsworth, with a start.\\nAnd so he had, indeed, both before and after death\\nSee said Foster. That \u00e2\u0080\u0099s the place where the\\niron struck her. It looks cruelly, but she never felt\\nit!\\nHe endeavored to arrange the arms of the corpse\\ndecently by its side. His utmost strength, however,\\nscarcely sufficed to bring them down and rising again,\\nthe next instant, they bade him defiance, exactly as\\nDefore. He made another effort, with the same result.\\nIn God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s name, Silas Foster,\u00e2\u0080\u009d cried I, with bitter\\nindignation, let that dead woman alone\\nWhy, man, it \u00e2\u0080\u0099s not decent answered he, staring\\nat me in amazement. I can\u00e2\u0080\u0099t bear to see her looking\\nso I Well, well,\u00e2\u0080\u009d added he, after a third effort, \u00e2\u0080\u0099t is of\\nno use, sure enough and we must leave the women tc\\ndo their best with her, after we get to the house. The\\nsooner that \u00e2\u0080\u0099s done, the better.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWe took two rails from a neighboring fence, ana\\nformed a bier by laying across some boards from the bot-\\ntom of the boat. And thus we bore Zenobia home-\\nward. Six hours before, how beautiful At midnight\\nwhat a horror A reflection occurs tc me that wil", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0604.jp2"}, "603": {"fulltext": "MIDNIGHT.\\n215\\nshow ludicrously, I doubt not, on my page, but must\\ncome in, for its sterling truth. Being the woman that\\nshe was, could Zenobia have foreseen all these ugly cir-\\ncumstances of death, how ill it would become her, the\\naltogether unseemly aspect which she must put on, and\\nespecially old Silas Foster\u00e2\u0080\u0099s efforts to improve the mat-\\nter, she would no more have committed the dreadful\\nact than have exhibited herself to a public assembly in a\\nbadly-fitting garment Zenobia, I have often thought,\\nwas not quite simple in her death. She had seen pic-\\ntures, I suppose, of drowned persons in lithe and grace-\\nful attitudes. And she deemed it well and decorous to\\ndie as so many village maidens have, wronged in their\\nfirst love, and seeking peace in the bosom of the old,\\nfamiliar stream, so familiar that they could not dread\\nit, where, in childhood, they used to bathe their little\\nfeet, wading mid-leg deep, unmindful of wet skirts. But\\nin Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s case there was some tint of the Arcadian\\naffectation that had been visible enough in all our lives\\nfor a few months past.\\nThis, however, to my conception, takes nothing tror,\\nthe tragedy. For, has not the world come to an awfully\\nsophisticated pass, when, after a certain degree of ac\\nquaintance with it, we cannot even put ourselves t\\ndeath in whole-hearted simplicity\\nSlowly, slowly, with many a dreary pause, resting\\nthe bier often on some rock, or balancing it across l\\nmossy log, to take fresh hold, we bore our burthen\\nonward through the moonlight, and at last laid Zenobia\\non the floor of the old farm-house. By and by came\\nthree or four withered women, and stood whispering\\naround the corpse, peering at it through their spectacles", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0605.jp2"}, "604": {"fulltext": "2 IQ\\nTHE b:itiiedale romance.\\nnolding up their skinny hands, shaking their mght-capt\\nheads, and taking counsel of one another\u00e2\u0080\u0099s experience\\nwhat was to be done.\\nWith those tire women we left Zenobia", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0606.jp2"}, "605": {"fulltext": "XXVIII.\\nBLITIIEDALE PASTURE.\\nButhedale, thus far in its progress, had never lound\\nthe necessity of a burial-ground. There was some con-\\nsultation among us in what spot Zenobia might most\\nfitly be laid. It was my own wish that she should sleep\\nat the base of Eliot\u00e2\u0080\u0099s pulpit, and that on the rugged\\nfront of the rock the name by which we familiarly knew\\nher, Zenobia, and not another word, should be\\ndeeply cut, and left for the moss and lichens to fill up at\\ntheir long leisure. But Hollingsworth (to whose ideas\\non this point great deference was due) made it his request\\nthat her grave might be dug on the gently sloping hill-\\nside, in th\u00c2\u00bb wide pasture, where, as we once supposed,\\nZenobia and he had planned to build their cottage. And\\nthus it was done, accordingly.\\nShe was buried very much as other people have been\\nfor hundreds of years gone by. In anticipation of a\\ndeath, we Blithedale colonists had sometimes set our\\nfancies at work to arrange a funereal ceremony, which\\nshould be the proper symbolic expression of our spiritual\\nfaith and eternal hopes and this we meant to substi-\\ntute for those customary rites which were moulded orig-\\ninally out of the Gothic gloom, and by long use, like an\\nold velvet pall, have so much more than their first death-\\nsmell in them. But when the occasion came, we found\\nit the simplest and truest thing, after all, to content our", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0607.jp2"}, "606": {"fulltext": "213\\nTHE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nselves with the old fashion, taking away what we cou.tl,\\nbut interpolating no novelties, and particularly avoiding\\nall frippery of flowers and cheerful emblems. The pro-\\ncession moved from the farm-house. Nearest the dead\\nwalked an old man in deep mourning, his face most]}\\nconcealed in a white handkerchief, and with Priscilla\\nleaning on his arm. Hollingsworth and myself came\\nnext. We all stood around the narrow niche in the cold\\nearth all saw the coffin lowered in all heard the rattle\\nof the crumbly soil upon its lid, that final sound, which\\nmortality awakens on the utmost verge of sense, as if in\\nthe vain hope of bringing an echo from the spiritual\\nworld.\\nI noticed a stranger, a stranger to most of those\\npresent, though known to me, who, after the coffin\\nhad descended, took up a handful of earth, and flung it\\nfirst into the grave. I had given up Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\narm, and now found myself near this man.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cIt was an idle thing a foolish thing for Zeno\\nnia to do,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said he. She w r as the last woman in the\\nworld to whom death could have been necessary. It was\\ntoo absurd I have no patience with her.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nWhy so I inquired, smothering my horror at his\\nrold comment in my eager curiosity to discover some\\ntangible truth as to his relation with Zenobia. If any\\ncrisis could justify the sad wrong she offered to herself,\\nit was surely that in which she stood. Everything had\\nfailed her; prosperity in the world\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sense, for her\\nopulence was gone, the heart\u00e2\u0080\u0099s prosperity, in love.\\nAnd there was a secret burthen on her, the nature ot\\nwhich is best known to you. Young as she was, she\\naad tried \u00e2\u0080\u0099\\\\fe fully, had no more to hope, and something", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0608.jp2"}, "607": {"fulltext": "BLITHEDALE PASTURE.\\n279\\nperhaps, to fear. Had Providence taken her away in its\\nown holy hand, I should have thought it the kindest\\ndispensation that could be awarded to one so wrecked.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nYou mistake the matter completely,\u00e2\u0080\u009d rejoined West-\\nervelt.\\nWhat, then, is your own view of it I asked.\\nHer mind was active, and various in its powers,\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nsaid he. Her heart had a manifold adaptation her\\nconstitution an infinite buoyancy, which (had she pos-\\nsessed only a little patience to await the reflux of her\\ntroubles) would have borne her upward, triumphantly\\nfor twenty years to come. Her beauty would not have\\nwaned or scarcely so, and surely not beyond the reach\\nof art to restore it in all that time. She had life\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nsummer all before her, and a hundred varieties of bril-\\nliant success. What an actress Zenobia might have\\nbeen It was one of her least valuable capabilities.\\nHow forcibly she might have wrought upon the world,\\neither directly in her own person, or by her influence\\nupon some man, or a series of men, of controlling gen-\\nius Every prize that could be worth a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s hav-\\ning and many prizes which other women are too\\nf.imid to desire lay within Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s reach.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nIn all this,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I observed, there would have bee^\\nnothing to satisfy her heart.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nHer heart answered Westervelt, contemptuously.\\nThat troublesome organ (as she had hitherto found it)\\nwould have been kept in its due place and degree, and\\nhave had all the gratification it could fairly claim. She\\nwould soon have established a control over it. Love\\nhad failed her, you say. Had it never failed her be-\\nCore? Yet she survived it, and loved again, possibly", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0609.jp2"}, "608": {"fulltext": "280\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nnot once alone, nor twice either. And now to drown\\nnerself for yonder dreamy philanthropist\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cWho arc you,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I exclaimed, indignantly, that dare\\nto speak thus of the dead? You seem to intend a\\neulogy, yet leave out whatever was noblest in her, and\\nblacken while you mean to praise. I have long consid-\\nered you as Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s evil fate. Your sentiments con-\\nfirm me in the idea, but leave me still ignorant as to the\\nmode in which you have influenced her life. The con-\\nnection may have been indissoluble, except by death.\\nThen, indeed, always in the hope of God\u00e2\u0080\u0099s infinite\\nmercy, 1 cannot deem it a misfortune that she sleeps\\nin yonder grave\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNo matter what I was to her,\u00e2\u0080\u009d he answered, gloom\\nily, yet without actual emotion. She is now beyond\\nmy reach. Had she lived, and hearkened to my coun-\\nsels, we might have served each other well. But there\\nZenobia lies in yonder pit, with the dull earth over her.\\nTwenty years of a brilliant lifetime thrown away for a\\nmere woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s whim\\nHeaven deal with Westervelt according to his nature\\nand deserts that is to say, annihilate him. He was\\naltogether earthy, worldly, made for time and its gross\\nobjects, and incapable except by a sort of dim reflec-\\ntion caught from other minds of so much as one spir-\\nitual idea. Whatever stain Zenobia had was caught\\nfrom him nor does it seldom happen that a character\\nof admirable qualities loses its better life because the\\natmosphere that should sustain it is rendered poisonous\\nby such breath as this man mingled with Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s.\\nYet his reflections possessed their share of truth. It\\nwas a vvoM thought, that a woman of Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s diver*", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0610.jp2"}, "609": {"fulltext": "BLITIIEDALE PASTURE\\n23}\\nsifted capacity should have fancied herself irretrievaoly\\ndefeated on the broad battle-field of Lfe, and with no\\nrefuge, save to fall on her own sword, merely because\\nLove had gone against her. It is nonsense, and a\\nmiserable wrong, the result, like so many others, of\\nmasculine egotism, that the success or failure of\\nwoman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s existence should be made to depend wholly on\\nthe affections, and on one species of affection, while\\nman has such a multitude of other chances, that this\\nseems but an incident. For its own sake, if it will do\\nno more, the world should throw open all its avenues to\\nthe passport of a woman\u00e2\u0080\u0099s bleeding heart.\\nAs we stood around the grave, I looked often towards\\nPriscilla, dreading to see her wholly overcome with\\ngrief. And deeply grieved, in truth, she was. But a\\ncharacter so simply constituted as hers has room only\\nlor a single predominant affection. No other feeling\\ncan touch the heart\u00e2\u0080\u0099s inmost core, nor do it any deadly\\nmischief. Thus, while we see that such a being respond;?\\nto every breeze with tremulous vibration, and imagine\\nthat she must be shattered by the first rude blast, we\\nfind her retaining her equilibrium amid shocks that\\nmight have overthrown many a sturdier frame. So\\nwith Priscilla her one possible misfortune was Hol-\\nlingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s unkindness; and tbit was destined nev ?r to\\nbefall her, never yet, at least, for Priscilla has not\\ndied.\\nBut Hollingsworth After all the evil that he did,\\nare we to leave him thus, blest with the entire devotion\\nof this one true heart, and with wealth at his disposal,\\nto execute the long-contemplated project that had led\\nhim so far astray? What retribution is there here?", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0611.jp2"}, "610": {"fulltext": "THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE\\n282\\nMy mind being vexed with precisely this query, 1 mad*\\na journey, some years since, for the sole purpose of\\ncatching a last glimpse at Hollingsworth, and judging\\nfor myself whether he were a happy man or no. 1\\nlearned that he inhabited a small cottage, that his way\\nof life was exceedingly retired, and that my only chance\\nof encountering him or Priscilla was to meet them in a\\nsecluded lane, where, in the latter part of the afternoon,\\nthey were accustomed to walk. I did meet them, ac-\\ncordingly. As they approached me, I observed in Hoi-\\ningsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s face a depressed and melancholy look, that\\nseemed habitual the powerfully-built man showed\\na self-distn stful weakness, and a childlike or childish\\ntendency to press close, and closer still, to the side of the\\nslender woman whose arm was within his. In Priscilla\u00e2\u0080\u0099s\\nmanner there was a protective and watchful quality, as\\nif she felt herself the guardian of her companion but,\\nlikewise, a deep, submissive, unquestioning reverence\\nand also a veiled happiness in her fair and quiet counte-\\nnance.\\nDrawing nearer, Priscilla recognized me, and gave\\nme a kind and friendly smile, but with a slight gesture,\\nwhich I could not help interpreting as an entreaty not to\\nmake myself known to Hollingsworth. Nevertheless,\\nan impulse took possession of me, and compelled me to\\naddress him.\\nI have come, Hollingsworth,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said I, to view yot.i\\ngrand edifice for the reformation of criminals. Is it\\nfinished yet\\n\u00e2\u0080\u009cNo, nor begun,\u00e2\u0080\u009d answered he, without raising hia\\neyes. A very small one answers all my purposes.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nPriscilla *hrew me an upbraiding glance. But fi", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0612.jp2"}, "611": {"fulltext": "BLITHE DAiiE PASTURE.\\n283\\nspoke again, with a bitter and revengeful emotion, as if\\ndinging a poisoned arrow at Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart.\\nUp to this moment,\u00e2\u0080\u009d I inquired, how many crimi-\\nnals have you reformed\\nNot one,\u00e2\u0080\u009d said Hollingsworth, with his eyes still\\nfixed on the ground. \u00e2\u0080\u009cEver since we parted, I have\\nbeen busy with a single murderer.\u00e2\u0080\u009d\\nThen the tears gushed into my eyes, and I forgave\\nhim for I remembered the wild energy, the passionate\\nshriek, with which Zenobia had spoken those words,\\nTell him he has murdered me Tell him that I \u00e2\u0080\u0099ll\\nhaunt him and 1 knew what murderer he meant,\\nand whose vindictive shadow dogged the side where\\nPriscilla was not.\\nThe moral which presents itself to my reflections, as\\ndrawn from Hollingsworth\u00e2\u0080\u0099s character and errors, is\\nsimply this, that, admitting what is called philan-\\nthropy, when adopted as a profession, to be often useful\\nby its ene r getic impulse to society at large, it is perilous\\nto the individual whose ruling passion, in one exclusive\\nchannel, it thus becomes. It ruins, or is fearfully apt to\\nruin, the heart, the rich juices of which God never\\nmeant should be pressed violently out, and distilled into\\nalcoholic liquor, by an unnatural process, but should\\nrender life sweet, bland, and gently beneficent, and\\ninsensibly influence other hearts and other lives to the\\nsame blessed end. I see in Hollingsworth an exemplifi-\\ncation of the most awful truth in Bunyan\u00e2\u0080\u0099s book of such\\nfrom the very gate of heaven there is a by-way to\\nthe pit\\nBut, all this while, we have been standing by Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099a\\ngrave. I have never since beheld it, but make no ques*", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0613.jp2"}, "612": {"fulltext": "2S4\\nTOE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\ntion that the grass grew all the better, on that iittie\\nparallelogram of pasture-land, for th^ decay of the beau-\\ntiful woman who slept beneath. How much Nature seems\\nto love us And how readily, nevertheless, without a sigh\\nor a complaint, she converts us to a meaner purpose, when\\nher highest one that of conscious intellectual life and\\nsensibility has been untimely balked! While Ze\\nnobia lived, Nature was proud of her, and directed all\\neyes upon that radiant presence, as her fairest handi-\\nwork. Zenobia perished. Will not Nature shed a\\ntear Ah, no she adopts the calamity at once into\\nher system, and is just as well pleased, for aught we\\ncan see, with the tuft of ranker vegetation that grew jut\\nof Zenobia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s heart, as with all the beauty whieh has\\nbequeathed us no earthly representative except in this\\ncrop of weeds. It is because the spirit is inest imab e\\nthat the lifeless body is so little valued.", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0614.jp2"}, "613": {"fulltext": "XXIX.\\nMILES COVERD ALE\u00e2\u0080\u0099S CONFESSION.\\nIt remains only to say a few words about myself.\\nNot improbably, the reader might be willing to spare me\\nthe trouble for I have made but a poor and dim figure in\\nmy own narrative, establishing no separate interest, and\\nsuffering my colorless life to take its hue from other\\nlives. But one still retains some little consideration for\\none\u00e2\u0080\u0099s self; so I keep these last two or three pages for\\nmy individual and sole behoof.\\nBut what, after all, have I to tell Nothing, nothing\\nnothing I left Blithedale within the week after Zeno-\\nbia\u00e2\u0080\u0099s death, and went back thither no more. The whole\\nsoil of our farm, for a long time afterwards, seemed but\\nthe sodded earth over her grave. I could not toil\\nthere, nor live upon its products. Often, however, in\\nthese years that are darkening around me, I remember\\nour beautiful scheme of a noble and unselfish life ano\\nhow fair, in that first summer, appeared the prospeci\\nthat it might endure for generations, and be perfected; as\\nthe ages rolled away, into the system of a people and a\\nworld Were my former associates now there, were\\n*here only three or four of those true-hearted men still\\nlaboring in the sun, I sometimes fancy that I should\\ndii ?ct my world-wear} footsteps thitherward, and entreat", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0615.jp2"}, "614": {"fulltext": "286\\nTHE BLITHE DALE ROMANCE.\\nthem to, receive me, for old friendship\u00e2\u0080\u0099s sake. More and\\nmore I feel that we had struck upon what ought to be a\\ntruth. Posterity may dig it up, and profit by it. The\\nexperiment, so far as its original projectors were con-\\ncerned, proved, long ago, a failure first lapsing into\\nFourierism, and dying, as it well deserved, for this infi-\\ndelity to its own higher spirit. Where once we toiled\\nwith our whole hopeful hearts, the town-paupers, aged,\\nnerveless, and disconsolate, creep sluggishly a-field\\nAlas, what faith is requisite to bear up against such\\nresults of generous effort\\nMy subsequent life has passed, I was going to say\\nhappily, but, at all events, tolerably enough. I am\\nnow at middle age, well, well, a step or two beyond\\nthe midmost point, and I care not a fig who knows it\\na bachelor, with no very decided purpose of ever being\\notherwise. I have been twice to Europe, and spent a\\nyear or two rather agreeably at each visit. Being well\\nto do in the world, and having nobody but myself to care\\nfoT, I live very much at my ease, and fare sumptuously\\nevery day. As for poetry, I have given it up, notwith-\\nstanding that Doctor Griswold as the reader, of course,\\nknows has placed me at a fair elevation among our\\nminor minstrelsy, on the strength of my pretty little vol-\\nume, published ten years ago. As regards human pro-\\ngress (in spite of my irrepressible yearnings over the\\nBlithedale reminiscences), let them believe in it who can,\\nand aid in it who choose. If I could earnestly do either,\\nit might be all the better for my comfort. As Hollings-\\nworth once told me, I lack a purpose. How strange\\nHe was ruined, morally, by an overplus of the very same\\ningredient, the want of which, I occasionally suspect, has", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0616.jp2"}, "615": {"fulltext": "MILES COVERDALE\u00e2\u0080\u0099S CONFESSION.\\n28 *i\\nrendered my own life all an emptiness. I by no mean?\\nwish to die. Yet, were there any cause, in this whole\\nchaos of human strugg^, worth a sane man\u00e2\u0080\u0099s dying for,\\nand which my death would benefit, then provided,\\nhowever, the effort did not involve an unreasonable\\namount of trouble methinks I might be bold to offei\\nup my life. If Kossuth, for example, would pitch tin\\nbattle-field of Hungarian rights within an easy ride of\\nmy abode, and choose a mild, sunny morning, aftei\\nbreakfast, for the conflict, Miles Coverdale would gladly\\nbe his man, for one brave rush upon the levelled bayo-\\nnets. Further than that, I should be loth to pledge\\nmyself.\\nI exaggerate my own defects. The reader must\\nnot take my own word for it, nor believe me alto-\\ngether changed from the young man who once hoped\\nstrenuously, and struggled not so much amiss. Frost-\\nier heads than mine have gained honor in the world\\nfrostier hearts have lmbiueu new warmth, and been\\nnewly happy. Life, however, it must be owned, has\\ncome to rather an idle pass with me. Would my\\nfriends like to know what brought it thither There is\\none secret, I have concealed it all along, and never\\nmeant to let the least whisper of it escape, one foolish\\ntittle secret, which possibly may have had something to\\ndo with these inactive years of meridian manhood, with\\nmy bachelorship, with the unsatisfied retrospect that I\\nfling back on life, and my listless glance towards the\\nfuture. Shall I reveal it It is an absurd thing for a\\nman in his afternoon, a man of the world, moreover,\\nwith these three white hairs in his brown mustache\\nand that deepening track of a crow\u00e2\u0080\u0099s-foot on each temple", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0617.jp2"}, "616": {"fulltext": "2SS THE BLITHEDALE ROMANCE.\\nan absurd thing ever to have happened, and quite tno\\nabsurdest for an old bachelor, like me, to talk about.\\nBut it rises in my throat so let it come.\\nI perceive, moreover, that the confession, brief as it\\nshall be, will throw a gleam of light over my behavior\\nthroughout the foregoing incidents, and is, indeed, essen-\\ntial to the full understanding of my story. The reader,\\ntherefore, since I have disclosed so much, is entitled to\\nthis one word more. As I write it, he will charitably\\nsuppose me to blush, and turn away my face\\nI I myself was in love with Priscilla", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0618.jp2"}, "617": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0619.jp2"}, "618": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0620.jp2"}, "619": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0621.jp2"}, "620": {"fulltext": "4*41", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0622.jp2"}, "621": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3493", "width": "2043", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0623.jp2"}, "622": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3450", "width": "1968", "jp2-path": "scarletletterbli00hawt_0_0624.jp2"}}