Червона літера
The Pastor and His Parishioner
"Hester,"saidhe,"hastthoufoundpeace?"
Shesmileddrearily,lookingdownuponherbosom.
"Hastthou?"sheasked.
"None—nothingbutdespair!"heanswered."WhatelsecouldIlookfor,beingwhatIam,andleadingsuchalifeasmine?WereIanatheist—amandevoidofconscience—awretchwithcoarseandbrutalinstincts—Imighthavefoundpeacelongerenow.Nay,Inevershouldhavelostit.But,asmattersstandwithmysoul,whateverofgoodcapacitythereoriginallywasinme,allofGod’sgiftsthatwerethechoicesthavebecometheministersofspiritualtorment.Hester,Iammostmiserable!"
"Thepeoplereverencethee,"saidHester."Andsurelythouworkestgoodamongthem!Doththisbringtheenocomfort?"
"Moremisery,Hester!—Onlythemoremisery!"answeredtheclergymanwithabittersmile."AsconcernsthegoodwhichImayappeartodo,Ihavenofaithinit.Itmustneedsbeadelusion.
