introductory-第7部分

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Certainly；　there　was　some　deep　meaning　in　it；　most　worthy　of

interpretation；　and　which；　as　it　were；　streamed　forth　from　the

mystic　symbol；　subtly　communicating　itself　to　my　sensibilities；　but

evading　the　analysis　of　my　mind。

　　While　thus　perplexed…　and　cogitating；　among　other　hypotheses；

whether　the　letter　might　not　have　been　one　of　those　decorations

which　the　white　men　used　to　contrive；　in　order　to　take　the　eyes　of

Indians…　I　happened　to　place　it　on　my　breast。　It　seemed　to　me…　the

reader　may　smile；　but　must　not　doubt　my　word…　it　seemed　to　me；　then；

that　I　experienced　a　sensation　not　altogether　physical；　yet　almost　so；

as　of　burning　heat；　and　as　if　the　letter　were　not　of　red　cloth；　but

red…hot　iron。　I　shuddered；　and　involuntarily　let　it　fall　upon　the

floor。

　　In　the　absorbing　contemplation　of　the　scarlet　letter；　I　had　hitherto

neglected　to　examine　a　small　roll　of　dingy　paper；　around　which　it

had　been　twisted。　This　I　now　opened；　and　had　the　satisfaction　to　find；

recorded　by　the　old　Surveyor's　pen；　a　reasonably　complete

explanation　of　the　whole　affair。　There　were　several　foolscap　sheets；

containing　many　particulars　respecting　the　life　and　conversation　of

one　Hester　Prynne；　who　appeared　to　have　been　rather　a　noteworthy

personage　in　the　view　of　our　ancestors。　She　had　flourished　during

the　period　between　the　early　days　of　Massachusetts　and　the　close　of

the　seventeenth　century。　Aged　persons；　alive　in　the　time　of　Mr。

Surveyor　Pue；　and　from　whose　oral　testimony　he　had　made　up　his

narrative；　remembered　her；　in　their　youth；　as　a　very　old；　but　not

decrepit　woman；　of　a　stately　and　solemn　aspect。　It　had　been　her　habit；

from　an　almost　immemorial　date；　to　go　about　the　country　as　a　kind　of

voluntary　nurse；　and　doing　whatever　miscellaneous　good　she　might；

taking　upon　herself；　likewise；　to　give　advice　in　all　matters；

especially　those　of　the　heart；　by　which　means；　as　a　person　of　such

propensities　inevitably　must；　she　gained　from　many　people　the

reverence　due　to　an　angel；　but；　I　should　imagine；　was　looked　upon　by

others　as　an　intruder　and　a　nuisance。　Prying　further　into　the

manuscript；　I　found　the　record　of　other　doings　and　sufferings　of

this　singular　woman；　for　most　of　which　the　reader　is　referred　to　the

story　entitled　〃THE　SCARLET　LETTER〃；　and　it　should　be　borne

carefully　in　mind；　that　the　main　facts　of　that　story　are　authorised

and　authenticated　by　the　document　of　Mr　Surveyor　Pue。　The　original

papers；　together　with　the　scarlet　letter　itself…　a　most　curious　relic…

are　still　in　my　possession；　and　shall　be　freely　exhibited　to

whomsoever；　induced　by　the　great　interest　of　the　narrative；　may　desire

a　sight　of　them。　I　must　not　be　understood　as　affirming；　that；　in　the

dressing　up　of　the　tale；　and　imagining　the　motives　and　modes　of

passion　that　influenced　the　characters　who　figure　in　it；　I　have

invariably　confined　myself　within　the　limits　of　the　old　Surveyor's

half…a…dozen　sheets　of　foolscap。　On　the　contrary；　I　have　allowed

myself；　as　to　such　points；　nearly　or　altogether　as　much　license　as

if　the　facts　had　been　entirely　of　my　own　invention。　What　I　contend　for

is　the　authenticity　of　the　outline。

　　This　incident　recalled　my　mind；　in　some　degree；　to　its　old　track。

There　seemed　to　be　here　the　groundwork　of　a　tale。　It　impressed　me　as

if　the　ancient　Surveyor；　in　his　garb　of　a　hundred　years　gone　by；　and

wearing　his　immortal　wig…　which　was　buried　with　him；　but　did　not

perish　in　the　grave…　had　met　me　in　the　deserted　chamber　of　the

Custom…House。　In　his　port　was　the　dignity　of　one　who　had　borne　his

Majesty's　commission；　and　who　was　therefore　illuminated　by　a　ray　of

the　splendour　that　shone　so　dazzlingly　about　the　throne。　How　unlike；

alas！　the　hang…dog　look　of　a　republican　official；　who；　as　the

servant　of　the　people；　feels　himself　less　than　the　least；　and　below

the　lowest　of　his　masters。　With　his　own　ghostly　hand；　the　obscurely

seen　but　majestic　figure　had　imparted　to　me　the　scarlet　symbol；　and

the　little　roll　of　explanatory　manuscript。　With　his　own　ghostly　voice；

he　had　exhorted　me；　on　the　sacred　consideration　of　my　filial　duty

and　reverence　towards　him…　who　might　reasonably　regard　himself　as　my

official　ancestor…　to　bring　his　mouldy　and　moth…eaten　lucubrations

before　the　public。　〃Do　this；〃　said　the　ghost　of　Mr。　Surveyor　Pue；

emphatically　nodding　the　head　that　looked　so　imposing　within　its

memorable　wig；　〃do　this；　and　the　profit　shall　be　all　your　own！　You

will　shortly　need　it；　for　it　is　not　in　your　days　as　it　was　in　mine；

when　a　man's　office　was　a　life…lease；　and　oftentimes　an　heirloom。　But；

I　charge　you；　in　this　matter　of　old　Mistress　Prynne；　give　to　your

predecessor's　memory　the　credit　which　will　be　rightfully　due！〃　And　I

said　to　the　ghost　of　Mr。　Surveyor　Pue；　〃I　will！〃

　　On　Hester　Prynne's　story；　therefore；　I　bestowed　much　thought。　It　was

the　subject　of　my　meditations　for　many　an　hour；　while　pacing　to　and

fro　across　my　room；　or　traversing；　with　a　hundred…fold　repetition；　the

long　extent　from　the　front…door　of　the　Custom…House　to　the

side…entrance；　and　back　again。　Great　were　the　weariness　and

annoyance　of　the　old　Inspector　and　the　Weighers　and　Gaugers；　whose

slumbers　were　disturbed　by　the　unmercifully　lengthened　tramp　of　my

passing　and　returning　footsteps。　Remembering　their　own　former

habits；　they　used　to　say　that　the　Surveyor　was　walking　the

quarter…deck。　They　probably　fancied　that　my　sole　object…　and；

indeed；　the　sole　object　for　which　a　sane　man　could　ever　put　himself

into　voluntary　motion…　was；　to　get　an　appetite　for　dinner。　And　to

say　the　truth；　an　appetite；　sharpened　by　the　east　wind　that

generally　blew　along　the　passage；　was　the　only　valuable　result　of

so　much　indefatigable　exercise。　So　little　adapted　is　the　atmosphere　of

a　Custom…House　to　the　delicate　harvest　of　fancy　and　sensibility；　that；

had　I　remained　there　through　ten　Presidencies　yet　to　come；　I　doubt

whether　the　tale　of　〃The　Scarlet　Letter〃　would　ever　have　been

brought　before　the　public　eye。　My　imagination　was　a　tarnished

mirror。　It　would　not　reflect；　or　only　with　miserable　dimness；　the

figures　with　which　I　did　my　best　to　people　it。　The　characters　of　the

narrative　would　not　be　warmed　and　rendered　malleable　by　any　heat

that　I　could　kindle　at　my　intellectual　forge。　They　would　take

neither　the　glow　of　passion　nor　the　tenderness　of　sentiment；　but

retained　all　the　rigidity　of　dead　corpses；　and　stared　me　in　the　face

with　a　fixed　and　ghastly　grin　of　contemptuous　defiance。　〃What　have　you

to　do　with　us？〃　that　expression　seemed　to　say。　〃The　little　power　you

might　once　have　possessed　over　the　tribe　of　unrealities　is　gone！　You

have　bartered　it　for　a　pittance　of　the　public　gold。　Go；　then；　and　earn

your　wages！〃　In　short；　the　almost　torpid　creatures　of　my　own　fancy

twitted　me　with　imbecility；　and　not　without　fair　occasion。

　　It　was　not　merely　during　the　three　hours　and　a　half　which　Uncle

Sam　claimed　as　his　share　of　my　daily　life；　that　this　wretched　numbness

held　possession　of　me。　It　went　with　me　on　my　sea…shore　walks；　and

rambles　into　the　country；　whenever…　which　was　seldom　and

reluctantly…　I　bestirred　myself　to　seek　that　invigorating　charm　of

Nature；　which　used　to　give　me　such　freshness　and　activity　of

thought；　the　moment　that　I　stepped　across　the　threshold　of　the　Old

Manse。　The　same　torpor；　as　regarded　the　capacity　for　intellectual

effort；　accompanied　me　home；　and　weighed　upon　me　in　the　chamber

which　I　most　absurdly　termed　my　study。　Nor　did　it　quit　me；　when；

late　at　night；　I　sat　in　the　deserted　parlour；　lighted　only　by　the

glimmering　coal…fire　and　the　moon；　striving　to　picture　forth　imaginary

scenes；　which；　the　next　day；　might　flow　out　on　the　brightening　page　in

many…hued　description。

　　If　the　imaginative　faculty　refused　to　act　at　such　an　hour；　it

might　well　be　deemed　a　hopeless　case。　Moonlight；　in　a　familiar　room；

falling　so　white　upon　the　carpet；　and　showing　all　its　figures　so

distinctly…　making　every　object　so　minutely　visible；　yet　so　unlike　a

morning　or　noontide　visibility…　is　a　medium　the　most　suitable　for　a

romance…writer　to　get　acquainted　with　his　illusive　guests。　There　is

the　little　domestic　scenery　of　the　well…known　apartment；　the　chairs；

with　each　its　separate　individuality；　the　centre…table；　sustaining　a

workbasket；　a　volume　or　two；　and　an　extinguished　lamp；　the　sofa；　the

bookcase；　the　picture　on　the　wall…　all　these　details；　so　completely

seen；　are　so　spiritualised　by　the　unusual　light；　that　they　seem　to

lose　their　actual　substance；　and　become　things　of　intellect。　Nothing

is　too　small　or　too　trifling　to　undergo　this　change；　and　acquire

dignity　thereby。　A　child's　shoe；　the　doll；　seated　in　her　little　wicker

carriage；　the　hobby…horse…　whatever；　in　a　word；　has　been　used　or

played　with；　during　the　day；　is　now　invested　with　a　quality　of

strangeness　and　remoteness；　though　still　almost　as　vividly　present　as

by　daylight。　Thus；　therefore；　the　floor　of　our　familiar　room　has

become　a　neutral　territory；　somewhere　between　the　real　world　and

fairyland；　where　the　Actual　and　the　Imaginary　may　meet；　and　each　imbue

itself　with　the　nature　of　the　other。　Ghosts　might　enter　here　without

affrighting　us。　It　would　be　too　much　in　keeping　with　the　scene　to

excite　surprise；　were　we　to　look　about　us　and　discover　a　form；

beloved；　but　gone　hence；　now　sitting　quietly　in　a　streak　of　this　magic

moonshine；　with　an　aspect　that　would　make　us　doubt　whether　it　had

returned　from　afar；　or　had　never　once　stirred　from　our　fireside。

　　The　somewhat　dim　coal…fire　has　an　essential　influence　in　producing

the　effect　which　I　would　describe。　It　throws　its　unobtrusive　tinge

throughout　the　room；　with　a　faint　ruddiness　upon　the　walls　and

ceiling；　and　a　reflected　gleam　from　the　polish　of　the　furniture。

This　warmer　light　mingles　itself　with　the　cold　spirituality　of　the

moonbeams；　and　communicates；　as　it　were；　a　heart　and　sensibilities

of　human　tenderness　to　the　forms　which　fancy　summons　up。　It　converts

them　from　snow…images　i