The Scarlet Letter

Such was the young man whom the Reverend Mr. Wilson and the

Governor had introduced so openly to the public notice, bidding

him speak, in the hearing of all men, to that mystery of a

woman's soul, so sacred even in its pollution. The trying nature

of his position drove the blood from his cheek, and made his

lips tremulous.

"Speak to the woman, my brother," said Mr. Wilson. "It is of

moment to her soul, and, therefore, as the worshipful Governor

says, momentous to thine own, in whose charge hers is. Exhort

her to confess the truth!"

The Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale bent his head, in silent prayer,

as it seemed, and then came forward.

"Hester Prynne," said he, leaning over the balcony and looking

down steadfastly into her eyes, "thou hearest what this good man

says, and seest the accountability under which I labour. If thou

feelest it to be for thy soul's peace, and that thy earthly

punishment will thereby be made more effectual to salvation, I

charge thee to speak out the name of thy fellow-sinner and

fellow-sufferer! Be not silent from any mistaken pity and

tenderness for him; for, believe me, Hester, though he were to

step down from a high place, and stand there beside thee, on thy

pedestal of shame, yet better were it so than to hide a guilty

heart through life. What can thy silence do for him, except it

tempt him--yea, compel him, as it were--to add hypocrisy to sin?

Heaven hath granted thee an open ignominy, that thereby thou

mayest work out an open triumph over the evil within thee and

the sorrow without. Take heed how thou deniest to him--who,

perchance, hath not the courage to grasp it for himself--the

bitter, but wholesome, cup that is now presented to thy lips!"

The young pastor's voice was tremulously sweet, rich, deep, and

broken. The feeling that it so evidently manifested, rather than

the direct purport of the words, caused it to vibrate within all

hearts, and brought the listeners into one accord of sympathy.

Even the poor baby at Hester's bosom was affected by the same

influence, for it directed its hitherto vacant gaze towards Mr.

Dimmesdale, and held up its little arms with a half-pleased,

half-plaintive murmur. So powerful seemed the minister's appeal

that the people could not believe but that Hester Prynne would

speak out the guilty name, or else that the guilty one himself

in whatever high or lowly place he stood, would be drawn forth

by an inward and inevitable necessity, and compelled to ascend

the scaffold.

Hester shook her head.

"Woman, transgress not beyond the limits of Heaven's mercy!"

cried the Reverend Mr. Wilson, more harshly than before. "That

little babe hath been gifted with a voice, to second and confirm

the counsel which thou hast heard. Speak out the name! That, and

thy repentance, may avail to take the scarlet letter off thy

breast."