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His
inward
trouble
drove
him
to
practices
more
in
accordance
with
the
old
,
corrupted
faith
of
Rome
than
with
the
better
light
of
the
church
in
which
he
had
been
born
and
bred
.
In
Mr.
Dimmesdale
's
secret
closet
,
under
lock
and
key
,
there
was
a
bloody
scourge
.
Oftentimes
,
this
Protestant
and
Puritan
divine
had
plied
it
on
his
own
shoulders
,
laughing
bitterly
at
himself
the
while
,
and
smiting
so
much
the
more
pitilessly
because
of
that
bitter
laugh
.
It
was
his
custom
,
too
,
as
it
has
been
that
of
many
other
pious
Puritans
,
to
fast
--
not
however
,
like
them
,
in
order
to
purify
the
body
,
and
render
it
the
fitter
medium
of
celestial
illumination
--
but
rigorously
,
and
until
his
knees
trembled
beneath
him
,
as
an
act
of
penance
.
He
kept
vigils
,
likewise
,
night
after
night
,
sometimes
in
utter
darkness
,
sometimes
with
a
glimmering
lamp
,
and
sometimes
,
viewing
his
own
face
in
a
looking-glass
,
by
the
most
powerful
light
which
he
could
throw
upon
it
.
He
thus
typified
the
constant
introspection
wherewith
he
tortured
,
but
could
not
purify
himself
.
In
these
lengthened
vigils
,
his
brain
often
reeled
,
and
visions
seemed
to
flit
before
him
;
perhaps
seen
doubtfully
,
and
by
a
faint
light
of
their
own
,
in
the
remote
dimness
of
the
chamber
,
or
more
vividly
and
close
beside
him
,
within
the
looking-glass
.
Now
it
was
a
herd
of
diabolic
shapes
,
that
grinned
and
mocked
at
the
pale
minister
,
and
beckoned
him
away
with
them
;
now
a
group
of
shining
angels
,
who
flew
upward
heavily
,
as
sorrow-laden
,
but
grew
more
ethereal
as
they
rose
.
Now
came
the
dead
friends
of
his
youth
,
and
his
white-bearded
father
,
with
a
saint-like
frown
,
and
his
mother
turning
her
face
away
as
she
passed
by
Ghost
of
a
mother
--
thinnest
fantasy
of
a
mother
--
methinks
she
might
yet
have
thrown
a
pitying
glance
towards
her
son
!
And
now
,
through
the
chamber
which
these
spectral
thoughts
had
made
so
ghastly
,
glided
Hester
Prynne
leading
along
little
Pearl
,
in
her
scarlet
garb
,
and
pointing
her
forefinger
,
first
at
the
scarlet
letter
on
her
bosom
,
and
then
at
the
clergyman
's
own
breast
.
None
of
these
visions
ever
quite
deluded
him
.
At
any
moment
,
by
an
effort
of
his
will
,
he
could
discern
substances
through
their
misty
lack
of
substance
,
and
convince
himself
that
they
were
not
solid
in
their
nature
,
like
yonder
table
of
carved
oak
,
or
that
big
,
square
,
leather-bound
and
brazen-clasped
volume
of
divinity
.
But
,
for
all
that
,
they
were
,
in
one
sense
,
the
truest
and
most
substantial
things
which
the
poor
minister
now
dealt
with
.
It
is
the
unspeakable
misery
of
a
life
so
false
as
his
,
that
it
steals
the
pith
and
substance
out
of
whatever
realities
there
are
around
us
,
and
which
were
meant
by
Heaven
to
be
the
spirit
's
joy
and
nutriment
.
To
the
untrue
man
,
the
whole
universe
is
false
--
it
is
impalpable
--
it
shrinks
to
nothing
within
his
grasp
And
he
himself
in
so
far
as
he
shows
himself
in
a
false
light
,
becomes
a
shadow
,
or
,
indeed
,
ceases
to
exist
.
The
only
truth
that
continued
to
give
Mr.
Dimmesdale
a
real
existence
on
this
earth
was
the
anguish
in
his
inmost
soul
,
and
the
undissembled
expression
of
it
in
his
aspect
.
Had
he
once
found
power
to
smile
,
and
wear
a
face
of
gaiety
,
there
would
have
been
no
such
man
!
On
one
of
those
ugly
nights
,
which
we
have
faintly
hinted
at
,
but
forborne
to
picture
forth
,
the
minister
started
from
his
chair
.
A
new
thought
had
struck
him
.
There
might
be
a
moment
's
peace
in
it
.
Attiring
himself
with
as
much
care
as
if
it
had
been
for
public
worship
,
and
precisely
in
the
same
manner
,
he
stole
softly
down
the
staircase
,
undid
the
door
,
and
issued
forth
.
Walking
in
the
shadow
of
a
dream
,
as
it
were
,
and
perhaps
actually
under
the
influence
of
a
species
of
somnambulism
,
Mr.
Dimmesdale
reached
the
spot
where
,
now
so
long
since
,
Hester
Prynne
had
lived
through
her
first
hours
of
public
ignominy
.
The
same
platform
or
scaffold
,
black
and
weather-stained
with
the
storm
or
sunshine
of
seven
long
years
,
and
foot-worn
,
too
,
with
the
tread
of
many
culprits
who
had
since
ascended
it
,
remained
standing
beneath
the
balcony
of
the
meeting-house
.
The
minister
went
up
the
steps
.
It
was
an
obscure
night
in
early
May
.
An
unwearied
pall
of
cloud
muffled
the
whole
expanse
of
sky
from
zenith
to
horizon
.
If
the
same
multitude
which
had
stood
as
eye-witnesses
while
Hester
Prynne
sustained
her
punishment
could
now
have
been
summoned
forth
,
they
would
have
discerned
no
face
above
the
platform
nor
hardly
the
outline
of
a
human
shape
,
in
the
dark
grey
of
the
midnight
.
But
the
town
was
all
asleep
.
There
was
no
peril
of
discovery
.
The
minister
might
stand
there
,
if
it
so
pleased
him
,
until
morning
should
redden
in
the
east
,
without
other
risk
than
that
the
dank
and
chill
night
air
would
creep
into
his
frame
,
and
stiffen
his
joints
with
rheumatism
,
and
clog
his
throat
with
catarrh
and
cough
;
thereby
defrauding
the
expectant
audience
of
to-morrow
's
prayer
and
sermon
.
No
eye
could
see
him
,
save
that
ever-wakeful
one
which
had
seen
him
in
his
closet
,
wielding
the
bloody
scourge
.
Why
,
then
,
had
he
come
hither
?
Was
it
but
the
mockery
of
penitence
?
A
mockery
,
indeed
,
but
in
which
his
soul
trifled
with
itself
!
A
mockery
at
which
angels
blushed
and
wept
,
while
fiends
rejoiced
with
jeering
laughter
!
He
had
been
driven
hither
by
the
impulse
of
that
Remorse
which
dogged
him
everywhere
,
and
whose
own
sister
and
closely
linked
companion
was
that
Cowardice
which
invariably
drew
him
back
,
with
her
tremulous
gripe
,
just
when
the
other
impulse
had
hurried
him
to
the
verge
of
a
disclosure
.
Poor
,
miserable
man
!
what
right
had
infirmity
like
his
to
burden
itself
with
crime
?
Crime
is
for
the
iron-nerved
,
who
have
their
choice
either
to
endure
it
,
or
,
if
it
press
too
hard
,
to
exert
their
fierce
and
savage
strength
for
a
good
purpose
,
and
fling
it
off
at
once
!
This
feeble
and
most
sensitive
of
spirits
could
do
neither
,
yet
continually
did
one
thing
or
another
,
which
intertwined
,
in
the
same
inextricable
knot
,
the
agony
of
heaven-defying
guilt
and
vain
repentance
.
And
thus
,
while
standing
on
the
scaffold
,
in
this
vain
show
of
expiation
,
Mr.
Dimmesdale
was
overcome
with
a
great
horror
of
mind
,
as
if
the
universe
were
gazing
at
a
scarlet
token
on
his
naked
breast
,
right
over
his
heart
.
On
that
spot
,
in
very
truth
,
there
was
,
and
there
had
long
been
,
the
gnawing
and
poisonous
tooth
of
bodily
pain
.
Without
any
effort
of
his
will
,
or
power
to
restrain
himself
,
he
shrieked
aloud
:
an
outcry
that
went
pealing
through
the
night
,
and
was
beaten
back
from
one
house
to
another
,
and
reverberated
from
the
hills
in
the
background
;
as
if
a
company
of
devils
,
detecting
so
much
misery
and
terror
in
it
,
had
made
a
plaything
of
the
sound
,
and
were
bandying
it
to
and
fro
.
