“Welcome， my children，” said the dark figure， “to thecommunion of your race！ Ye have found， thus young， yournature and your destiny. My children， look behind you！”
They turned； and flashing forth， as it were， in a sheetof flame， the fiend-worshippers were seen； the smile ofwelcome gleamed darkly on every visage.
“There，” resumed the sable form， “are all whom ye havereverenced from youth. Ye deemed them holier thanyourselves， and shrank from your own sin， contrasting itwith their lives of righteousness， and prayerful aspirationsheavenward. Yet， here are they all， in my worshippingassembly！ This night it shall be granted you to know theirsecret deeds； how hoary-bearded elders of the churchhave whispered wanton words to the young maids oftheir households； how many a woman， eager for widow’sweeds， has given her husband a drink at bed-time， andlet him sleep his last sleep in her bosom； how beardlessyouth have made haste to inherit their father’s wealth； andhow fair damsels—blush not， sweet ones—have dug littlegraves in the garden， and bidden me， the sole guest， to aninfant’s funeral. By the sympathy of your human hearts forsin， ye shall scent out all the places—whether in church，bed-chamber， street， field， or forest—where crime has beencommitted， and shall exult to behold the whole earth onestain of guilt， one mighty blood-spot. Far more than this！
It shall be yours to penetrate， in every bosom， the deepmystery of sin， the fountain of all wicked arts， and whichinexhaustibly supplies more evil impulses than humanpower—than my power at its utmost！ —can make manifestin deeds. And now， my children， look upon each other.”
They did so； and， by the blaze of the hell-kindledtorches， the wretched man beheld his Faith， and the wifeher husband， trembling before that unhallowed altar.
“Lo！ there ye stand， my children，” said the figure， ina deep and solemn tone， almost sad， with its despairingawfulness， as if his once angelic nature could yet mourn forour miserable race. “Depending upon one another’s hearts，ye had still hoped that virtue were not all a dream！ Noware ye undeceived！ Evil is the nature of mankind. Evil mustbe your only happiness. Welcome， again， my children， tothe communion of your race！”
“Welcome！” repeated the fiend-worshippers， in one cryof despair and triumph.
And there they stood， the only pair， as it seemed， whowere yet hesitating on the verge of wickedness， in this darkworld. A basin was hollowed， naturally， in the rock. Did itcontain water， reddened by the lurid light？ or was it blood？
or， perchance， a liquid flame？ Herein did the Shape ofEvil dip his hand， and prepare to lay the mark of baptismupon their foreheads， that they might be partakers ofthe mystery of sin， more conscious of the secret guilt ofothers， both in deed and thought， than they could now beof their own. The husband cast one look at his pale wife，and Faith at him. What polluted wretches would the nextglance show them to each other， shuddering alike at whatthey disclosed and what they saw！
“Faith！ Faith！” cried the husband. “Look up to Heaven，and resist the Wicked One！”
Whether Faith obeyed， he knew not. Hardly had hespoken， when he found himself amid calm night andsolitude， listening to a roar of the wind， which died heavilyaway through the forest. He staggered against the rock， andfelt it chill and damp， while a hanging twig， that had beenall on fire， besprinkled his cheek with the coldest dew.
The next morning， young Goodman Brown came slowlyinto the street of Salem village， staring around him likea bewildered man. The good old minister was taking awalk along the graveyard， to get an appetite for breakfastand meditate his sermon， and bestowed a blessing， ashe passed， on Goodman Brown. He shrank from thevenerable saint， as if to avoid an anathema. Old DeaconGookin was at domestic worship， and the holy words ofhis prayer were heard through the open window. “WhatGod doth the wizard pray to？” quoth Goodman Brown.
Goody Cloyse， that excellent old Christian， stood in theearly sunshine， at her own lattice， catechising a little girl，who had brought her a pint of morning’s milk. GoodmanBrown snatched away the child， as from the grasp of thefiend himself. Turning the corner by the meeting-house，he spied the head of Faith， with the pink ribbons， gazinganxiously forth， and bursting into such joy at sight ofhim， that she skipt along the street， and almost kissed herhusband before the whole village. But Goodman Brownlooked sternly and sadly into her face， and passed onwithout a greeting.
Had Goodman Brown fallen asleep in the forest， andonly dreamed a wild dream of a witch-meeting？
Be it so， if you will. But， alas！ it was a dream of evilomen for young Goodman Brown. A stern， a sad， a darklymeditative， a distrustful， if not a desperate man， did hebecome， from the night of that fearful dream. On theSabbath-day， when the congregation were singing a holypsalm， he could not listen， because an anthem of sinrushed loudly upon his ear， and drowned all the blessedstrain. When the minister spoke from the pulpit， withpower and fervid eloquence， and with his hand on theopen Bible， of the sacred truths of our religion， and ofsaint-like lives and triumphant deaths， and of future blissor misery unutterable， then did Goodman Brown turnpale， dreading lest the roof should thunder down uponthe gray blasphemer and his hearers. Often， awakingsuddenly at midnight， he shrank from the bosom of Faith，and at morning or eventide， when the family knelt downat prayer， he scowled， and muttered to himself， and gazedsternly at his wife， and turned away. And when he had livedlong， and was borne to his grave， a hoary corpse， followedby Faith， an aged woman， and children and grand-children，a goodly procession， besides neighbors， not a few， theycarved no hopeful verse upon his tombstone； for his dyinghour was gloom.
