San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-06-15

rier ownstffess was or the coarsest mate
rails and the most somber hue, with only
| that one sornament-the scarlet letter
| which itwas her doom to wear. The
.child's attire, ON the other hand, was
distinguished by fanciful, or, we might
rather say. a fantastic ingenuity, which
served indeed to heighten the airy charm
that early began to develop itself in the
little girl, but which appeared to have
also a deeper meaning. We may speak
further of it hereafter. Except for that
small expenditure in the decoration of
her infant, Hester bestowed all her SUI
perfuous means in charity on wretches
less miserable than herself, and who not
unfrequently insulted the hand that fed
them. Much of the time, which she
might readily have applied to the better
efforts of her art, she employed in max
ing coarse garments for the poor.
II is probable that there was an idea
of penance in this mode of occupation,
and that she offered up real sacrifice
of enjoyment in devoting SO many
hours to such rude handiwOrk. She had
in her nature a rich, voluptuous, orr
entail eharacteristic-a taste for the
gorgeously beautiful, which save in the
exquisite productions of her needle
found nothing else in all the POSSIBLE
ties of her life to exercise itself upon.
Women derive a pleasure, incompre-
hensible TO the other sex, from the deli
cate toll of the needle. To Hester
,,,iorbt he hnnr1 n 11nn1a nf
expressing, and therefore soothing, the
passion of her life. Like all other joys,
she rejected it as sin. This morbid
meddling of conscience with an imma-
terial matter betokened, it is to be
feared, no genuine and steadfast peni-
tence, but something doubtful, some
thing that might be deeply wrong, be-
meath y
Her imagination was somewhat af-
fected, and had she been of softer
moral and intellectual fiber would have
been still more so by the strange and
solitary anguish of her life. Walking
to and fro, with those lonely footsteps,
in the little world with which she was
outwardly connected, it now and then
appeared to Hester-if altogether fancy,
it was nevertheless too potent to be re-
sisted-she felt or fancied, then, that
the scarlet letter had endowed her with
a new sense. She shuddered to believe,
yet could not help believing, that it gave
her sympathetic knowledge of the hid
den sin in other hearts. She was terror
stricken by the revelations that were
thus made. What were they? Could
they be other than the insidious whis-
pers of the bad angel, who would fain
have persuaded the struggling woman,
as yet only half his victim, that the out
ward guise of purity was but lie, and
that, if truth were everywhere to be
shown, scarlet letter would blaze
forth on many bosom besides Hester
Prynne's? Or must she receive those in
imations, so obscure, yet so distinct, as
truth?
In all her miserable experience there
was nothing else so awful and so loath
some as this sense. 1t perplexed as
well as shocked her by the irreverent
inopportuneness of the occasions that
brought it into vivid action. Sometimes
the red infamy upon her breast would
give sympathetic throb, as she passed
near a venerable minister or magistrate,
the model of piety and justice, to whom
that age of antique reverence looked up,
as to moral man in fellowship with
angels. what evil thing is at handY'
would Hester say to herself. Lifting
her reluctant eyes, there would be moth
ing human within the scope of view
save the form of this earthly saint!
Again, mystic sisterhood would con
tumaciously assert itself, as she met the
sanctified frown of some matron, who,
according to the rumor of all tongues,
had kept cold snow within her bosom
throughout life.
That unsunned snow in the matron's
bosom and the burning shame on Hester
Prynne's-what had the two in COM
mon? Or, once more, the electric thrill
would give her warning-"Behold, Hes
ter, here is a companionp-and looking
up she would detect the eyes of a young
maiden glancing at the scarlet letter
shyly and aside and quickly averted
with faint, chill crimson in her cheeks,
as if her purity were somewhat sullied
by that momentary glance. o fend,
whose talisman was that fatal symbol,
wouldst thou leave nothing, whether in
youth or age, for this poor sinner to re-
we're? Such loss of faith is ever one of the
saddest results of sin. Be it accepted as
proof that all was not corrupt in this
poor victim of her own frailty and mans
hard law that Hester Prynne yet strug-
gled to believe that no fellow mortal
was guilty like herself.
Il i