"It were well，" muttered the most iron-visaged of the old dames，"if we stripped Madame Hester's rich gown off her dainty shoulders; and as for the red letter，which she hath stitched socuriously，I'll bestow a rag of mine own the umatic flannel，to make afitter one! "　　"Oh，peace，neighbours，peacel" whispered their youngest companion; "do not let her hear you l Not a stitch in that embroidered letter，but she has felt it in her heart."　　The grim beadle now made a gesture with his staff.　　" Make way，good people，make way，in the King's name!"criedhe." Open a passage; and I promise ye，Mistress Prynne shall be set where man，woman，and child may have a fair sight of her braveapparel，from this time till an hour past meridian.A blessing on the righteous Colony of the Massa chusetts，where iniquity0 is dragged out into the sunshine! Come along，Madame Hester，and show your scarlet letter in the market-place!"　　A lane was forthwith opened through the crowd of spectators.Preceded by the beadle，and attended by an irregular procession of.stern-browed men and unkindly-visaged women，Hester Prynne set forth towards the place appointed for her punishment.A crowd of eager and curious schoolboys，understanding little of the matter inhand，except that it gave them a half-holiday，ran before her progress，turning their heads continually to stare into her face，and at thewinking baby in her arms，and at the ignominious letter on her breast.It was no great distance，in those days，from the prison-door to the market-place.Measured by the prisoner's experience，however，itmight be reckoned a journey of some length; for，haughty as herdemean our was，she perchance underwent an agony from every footstep of those that thronged to see her，as if her heart had been flunginto the street for them all to spurn and trample upon.In ourn ature，how ever，there is a provision，alike marvellous and mercifulthat the sufferer should never know the intensity of what he endures by its present torture，but chiefly by the pang that rankles after it With almost a serene deportment，the refore，Hester Prynne passed through this portion of her ordeal，and came to a sort of scafiold，at thewestern extremity of the market-place.It stood nearly beneath theeaves of Boston's earliest church，and appeared to be a fixture there.　　In fact，this scaffold constituted a portion of a penal machine，which now，for two or three generations past，has been merely historical and traditionary among us，but was held，in the old time，to be as effectual an a gent，in the promotion of good citizenship，as everwas the guillotine among the terrorists of France.It was，in short，the plat form of the pillory; and above it rose the framework of that instrument of discipline，so fashioned as to confine the human head in its tight grasp，and thus hold it up to the public gaze.The very ideall of ignominy was embodied and made manifest in this contrivance of wood and iron.There can be no outrage，methinks，against our common nature-whatever be the delinquencies@ of the individual-no outrage more flagrant than to forbid the culprit to hide his face for shame; as it was the essence of this punishment to do.In Hester Prynne's instance，however，as not unfrequendy in other cases，her sentence bore，that she should stand a certain time upon the plat form，but without undergoing that gripe about the neck and confinement of the head，the proneness to which was the most devilish characteristic of this ugly engine.Knowing well her part，she ascendeda flight of wooden steps，and was thus displayed to the surrounding multitude，at about the height of a man's shoulders above the street.　　Had there been a Papist among the crowd of Puritans，he might have seen in this beautiful woman，so picturesque in her attire and mieno，and with the infant at her bosom，an object to remind him of the image of Divine Maternity，which so many illustrious painters have vied with one another to represent; something which should remind him，indeed，but only by contrast，of that sacred image of sinless mother hood，whose infant was to redeem the world.Here，there wasthe taint of deepest sin in the most sacred quality of human life，working such effect，that the world was only the darker for thiswoman's beauty，and the more lost for the infant that she had borne.　　The scene was not without a mixture of awe，such as must always sinvest the spectacle of gLult and shame in a fellow-creature，before society shall have grown corrupt enough to smile，instead of shuddering，at it.The witnesses of Hester Prynne's disgrace had not yet passed beyond their simplicity.They were stern enough to lookup on her death，had that been the sentence，without a murmur at its severity，but had none of the heartlessness of another social state，which would find only a theme for jest in an exhibition like the present.Even had there been a disposition to turn the matter into ridicule，it must have been repressed and overpowered by the solemn presence of men no less dignified than the Governor，and several of hiscoun sellors，a judge，a general，and the ministers of the town.　　……