The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1892-11-02
THE SCARLET LETTER.
By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.

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deep, sad undertone of pathos, which
could not be interpreted otherwise thar
as the natural regret Of one soon TO pas.
away Yes. their minister whom they
| 30 loved-and who 50 loved them nj
that he could not depart heavcnwarG
without sigh-had the foreboding Of
untimely death upon him and would
soon leave them in their tcars This
idea of his transitory stay on earth gave
the last emphasis to the effect which the
preacher had produced; it was as If an
angel in his passage to the skies had
shaken his bright wings over the people
for an instant-at once n shadow and a
splendor-and had shed down n shower
of golden truths upon them.
Thus there had come to the Reverend
Mr.. Dimmesdale-as to most men in
their various spheres, though seldom
recognized until they see it far behind
them-an epoch of life more brilliant
and full a triumph than any previous
one or than any which could hereafter
be. He stood at this moment on the
very proulest eminence of superiority
to which the gifts Of intellect, rich lore,
prevailing eloquence and reputation of
whitest sanctity could exalt clergyman
in New England's earliest days, when
the professional character was of itself
O lofty pedestal. Such was the position
which the minister occupied as he bowed
his head forward on the cushions of the
pulpit at the close Of his election SER
mon. Meanwhile Hester Pryune was
standing beside the scaffold of the pill
lory, with the scarlet letter still burning
on her breast.
Now was heard again the clangor of
the music, and the measured tramp of
the military escort issuing from the
church door. The procession was to be
marshaled thence to the town hall,
where a solemn banquet would com
plete the ceremonies Of the day.
Once more, therefore, the train Of ven
cradle and majestic fathers was seen
moving through a broad pathway Of the
people, who drew back reverently, on
either side, as the governor and magis-
trates, the old and wise men, the holy
ministers, and all that were eminent
and renowned, advanced into the midst
of them. When they were fairly in the
market place their presence was greeted
by shout. This-though doubtless it
might acquire additional force and vol
ume from the childlike loyalty which
the age awarded to its rulers-was
felt to be an irrcpressible outburst
Of enthusiasm kindlcd in the auditors
by that high strain Of eloquence which
was yet revcrberating in their ears.
Each felt The impulse in himself and
in the same breath caught it from his
neighbor. Within the church it had
hardly been kept down; beneath the sky
1t pealed upward to the zenith. There
were human beings enough and enough
of highly wrought and symphonious
feeling to produce that more impressive
sound than the organ tones of the blast,
or the thunder, or the roar of the sea-
even that mighty swell of many voices
blended into one great voice by the uni
versal impulse which makes likewise one
vast heart ont of the many. Never from
the soil of New England had gone up
such a shout! Never on New England
soil had stood the man so honored by his
mortal brethren rs the preacherl
How Jared it with him then? Were
there not the brilliant particles of a halo
in the air about his head? So ethereal
lied by spirit as he was, and so apothe-
osized by worshiping admirers, did his
footsteps in the procession really tread
upon the dust of earth2
As the ranks of military men and
civil fathers moved onward, all eyes
were turned toward the point where the
minister was seen to approach among
them. The shout died into murmur
as one portion of the crowd after an
other obtained glimpse Of him. How
feeble and pale he looked amid all his
triumph The energy-or say, rather,
the inspiration which had held him up
until he should have delivered the sacred
message that brought its own strength
along with it from heaven-was with
drawn, now that 1t had so faithfully
performed its Office. The glow, which
they had just before beheld burning ON
his check, was extinguished like flame
that sinks down hopelessly among the
late-decaying embers. 1t seemed hardly
the face of man alive, with such a
deathlike hue; it was hardly a man
with life in him that tottered on his
path so nervelessly, yet tOttered, and
did not fall
One of his clerical brethrcn-it was
the venerable John Wilson-observing
the state in which Mr.. Dimmesdale was
left by the retiring wave of intellect and
sensibility, stepped forward hastily to
offer his support. The minister tremu-
lousy but decidedly repealed the old
mans arm. He still walked onward, if
that movement could be so described,
which rather resembled the wavering
effort of an infant with its mothers
arms in view outstretched to tempt him
forward. And now, almost impercepti-
BILE as were the latter steps Of his prog
ress, he had come opposite the well re-
membered and weather darkened scat
fold, where long since, with all that
dreary lapse of time between, Hester
Prynne had encountered the worlds ig-
nominous stare. There stood Hester
holding little Pearl by the hand! Aud
there was the scarlet letter on her
breasti The minister here made pause,
although the music still played the
stately and rejoicing march to which
the procession moved. 1t summoned
him onward-onward TO the festival
but here he made pause.
Bellinghain for the last few moments
had kept an anxious eye upon him. He
now left his own place in the procession
and advanced to give assistance, judging
from Mr.. Dimmesdale's aspect, that he
must otherwise inevitably fall. But