The authority which we have chiefly followed--a manuscript of
old date, drawn up from the verbal testimony of individuals,
some of whom had known Hester Prynne, while others had heard the
tale from contemporary witnesses fully confirms the view taken
in the foregoing pages. Among many morals which press upon us
from the poor minister's miserable experience, we put only this
into a sentence:--"Be true! Be true! Be true! Show freely to the
world, if not your worst, yet some trait whereby the worst may
be inferred!"
Nothing was more remarkable than the change which took place,
almost immediately after Mr. Dimmesdale's death, in the
appearance and demeanour of the old man known as Roger
Chillingworth. All his strength and energy--all his vital and
intellectual force--seemed at once to desert him, insomuch that
he positively withered up, shrivelled away and almost vanished
from mortal sight, like an uprooted weed that lies wilting in
the sun. This unhappy man had made the very principle of his
life to consist in the pursuit and systematic exercise of
revenge; and when, by its completest triumph consummation that
evil principle was left with no further material to support
it--when, in short, there was no more Devil's work on earth for
him to do, it only remained for the unhumanised mortal to betake
himself whither his master would find him tasks enough, and pay
him his wages duly. But, to all these shadowy beings, so long
our near acquaintances--as well Roger Chillingworth as his
companions we would fain be merciful. It is a curious subject of
observation and inquiry, whether hatred and love be not the same
thing at bottom. Each, in its utmost development, supposes a
high degree of intimacy and heart-knowledge; each renders one
individual dependent for the food of his affections and
spiritual fife upon another: each leaves the passionate lover,
or the no less passionate hater, forlorn and desolate by the
withdrawal of his subject. Philosophically considered,
therefore, the two passions seem essentially the same, except
that one happens to be seen in a celestial radiance, and the
other in a dusky and lurid glow. In the spiritual world, the old
physician and the minister--mutual victims as they have
been--may, unawares, have found their earthly stock of hatred
and antipathy transmuted into golden love.
Leaving this discussion apart, we have a matter of business to
communicate to the reader. At old Roger Chillingworth's decease,
(which took place within the year), and by his last will and
testament, of which Governor Bellingham and the Reverend Mr.
Wilson were executors, he bequeathed a very considerable amount
of property, both here and in England to little Pearl, the
daughter of Hester Prynne.
So Pearl--the elf child--the demon offspring, as some people up
to that epoch persisted in considering her--became the richest
heiress of her day in the New World. Not improbably this
circumstance wrought a very material change in the public
estimation; and had the mother and child remained here, little
Pearl at a marriageable period of life might have mingled her
wild blood with the lineage of the devoutest Puritan among them
all. But, in no long time after the physician's death, the
wearer of the scarlet letter disappeared, and Pearl along with
her. For many years, though a vague report would now and then
find its way across the sea--like a shapeless piece of driftwood
tossed ashore with the initials of a name upon it--yet no
tidings of them unquestionably authentic were received. The
story of the scarlet letter grew into a legend. Its spell,
however, was still potent, and kept the scaffold awful where the
poor minister had died, and likewise the cottage by the
sea-shore where Hester Prynne had dwelt. Near this latter spot,
one afternoon some children were at play, when they beheld a
tall woman in a gray robe approach the cottage-door. In all
those years it had never once been opened; but either she
unlocked it or the decaying wood and iron yielded to her hand,
or she glided shadow-like through these impediments--and, at all
events, went in.