Yet if I understand aright, you intimate a doubt whether the world'***pectation of benefit would be realized by it.""Listen to the talk of these worthies," said he, pointing to agroup in front of the blazing pile. "Possibly they may teach yousomething useful, without intending it."The persons whom he indicated consisted of that brutal and mostearthy figure who had stood forth so furiously in defence of thegallows- the hangman, in short- together with the last thief and thelast murderer; all three of whom were clustered about the lasttoper. The latter was liberally passing the brandy bottle, which hehad rescued from the general destruction of wines and spirits. Thelittle convivial party seemed at the lowest pitch of despondency; asconsidering that the purified world must needs be utterly unlike thesphere that they had hitherto known, and therefore but a strange anddesolate abode for gentlemen of their kidney.
"The best counsel for all of us is," remarked the hangman, "that-as soon as we have finished the last drop of liqour- I help you, mythree friends, to a comfortable end upon the nearest tree, and thenhang myself on the same bough. This is no world for us any longer.""Poh, poh, my good fellows!" said a dark-complexioned personage,who now joined the group- his complexion was indeed fearfully dark,and his eyes glowed with a redder light than that of the bonfire-"Be not so cast down, my dear friends; you shall see good days yet.
There is one thing that these wiseacres have forgotten to throw intothe fire, and without which all the rest of the conflagration isjust nothing at all; yes- though they had burnt the earth itself toa cinder.""And what may that be?" eagerly demanded the last murderer.
"What but the human heart itself!" said the dark-visagedstranger, with a portentous grin. "And unless they hit upon somemethod of purifying that foul cavern, forth from it will reissue allthe shapes of wrong and misery- the same old shapes, or worse ones-which they have taken such a vast deal of trouble to consume to ashes.
I have stood by, this live-long night, and laughed in my sleeve at thewhole business. Oh, take my word for it, it will be the old worldyet!"This brief conversation supplied me with a theme for lengthenedthought. How sad a truth- if true it were- that Man's age-longendeavor for perfection had served only to render him the mockery ofthe Evil Principle, from the fatal circumstance of an error at thevery root of the matter! The heart- the heart- there was the littleyet boundless sphere, wherein existed the original wrong, of which thecrime and misery of this outward world were merely types. Purifythat inward sphere; and the many shapes of evil that haunt theoutward, and which now seem almost our only realities, will turn toshadowy phantoms, and vanish of their own accord. But if we go nodeeper than the Intellect, and strive, with merely that feebleinstrument, to discern and rectify what is wrong, our wholeaccomplishment will be a dream; so unsubstantial, that it matterslittle whether the bonfire, which I have so faithfully described, werewhat we choose to call a real event, and a flame that would scorch thefinger- or only a phosphoric radiance, and a parable of my own brain!
THE END
.
1843
TWICE-TOLD TALES
EGOTISM, OR, THE BOSOM SERPENT
FROM THE UNPUBLISHED "ALLEGORIES OF THE HEART"by Nathaniel HawthorneHERE HE COMES!" shouted the boys along the street. "Here comesthe man with a snake in his bosom!"This outcry, saluting Herkimer's ears, as he was about to enter theiron gate of the Elliston mansion, made him pause. It was notwithout a shudder that he found himself on the point of meeting hisformer acquaintance, whom he had known in the glory of youth, and whomnow, after an interval of five years, he was to find the victim eitherof a diseased fancy, or a horrible physical misfortune.
"A snake in his bosom!" repeated the young sculptor to himself. "Itmust be he. No second man on earth has such a bosom-friend! And now,my poor Rosina, Heaven grant me wisdom to discharge my errandaright! Woman's faith must be strong indeed, since thine has not yetfailed."Thus musing, he took his stand at the entrance of the gate, andwaited until the personage, so singularly announced, should make hisappearance. After an instant or two, he beheld the figure of a leanman, of unwholesome look, with glittering eyes and long black hair,who seemed to imitate the motion of a snake; for, instead of walkingstraight forward with open front, he undulated along the pavement in acurved line. It may be too fanciful to say, that something, eitherin his moral or material aspect, suggested the idea that a miracle hadbeen wrought, by transforming a serpent into a man; but soimperfectly, that the snaky nature was yet hidden, and scarcelyhidden, under the mere outward guise of humanity. Herkimer remarkedthat his complexion had a greenish tinge over its sickly white,reminding him of a species of marble out of which he had oncewrought a head of Envy, with her snaky locks.
The wretched being approached the gate, but, instead of entering,stopt short, and fixed the glitter of his eye full upon thecompassionate, yet steady countenance of the sculptor.
"It gnaws me! It gnaws me!" he exclaimed.
And then there was an audible hiss, but whether it came from theapparent lunatic's own lips, or was the real hiss of a serpent,might admit of discussion. At all events, it made Herkimer shudderto his heart's core.
"Do you know me, George Herkimer?" asked the snake-possessed.
