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.At all events, the health ofthe good town of Boston, so far as medicine had aught todo with it, had hitherto lain in the guardianship of an ageddeacon and apothecary, whose piety and godlydeportment were stronger testimonials in his favour thanany that he could have produced in the shape of adiploma.The only surgeon was one who combined theoccasional exercise of that noble art with the daily andhabitual flourish of a razor.To such a professional bodyRoger Chillingworth was a brilliant acquisition.He soonmanifested his familiarity with the ponderous andimposing machinery of antique physic; in which everyremedy contained a multitude of far-fetched andheterogeneous ingredients, as elaborately compounded asif the proposed result had been the Elixir of Life.In hisIndian captivity, moreover, he had gained muchknowledge of the properties of native herbs and roots; nordid he conceal from his patients that these simplemedicines, Nature s boon to the untutored savage, hadquite as large a share of his own confidence as theEuropean Pharmacopoeia, which so many learned doctorshad spent centuries in elaborating.178 of 394 The Scarlet LetterThis learned stranger was exemplary as regarded at leastthe outward forms of a religious life; and early after hisarrival, had chosen for his spiritual guide the ReverendMr.Dimmesdale.The young divine, whose scholar-likerenown still lived in Oxford, was considered by his morefervent admirers as little less than a heavenly ordainedapostle, destined, should he live and labour for theordinary term of life, to do as great deeds, for the nowfeeble New England Church, as the early Fathers hadachieved for the infancy of the Christian faith.About thisperiod, however, the health of Mr.Dimmesdale hadevidently begun to fail.By those best acquainted with hishabits, the paleness of the young minister s cheek wasaccounted for by his too earnest devotion to study, hisscrupulous fulfilment of parochial duty, and more than all,to the fasts and vigils of which he made a frequentpractice, in order to keep the grossness of this earthly statefrom clogging and obscuring his spiritual lamp.Somedeclared, that if Mr.Dimmesdale were really going to die,it was cause enough that the world was not worthy to beany longer trodden by his feet.He himself, on the otherhand, with characteristic humility, avowed his belief that ifProvidence should see fit to remove him, it would bebecause of his own unworthiness to perform its humblest179 of 394 The Scarlet Lettermission here on earth.With all this difference of opinionas to the cause of his decline, there could be no questionof the fact.His form grew emaciated; his voice, thoughstill rich and sweet, had a certain melancholy prophecy ofdecay in it; he was often observed, on any slight alarm orother sudden accident, to put his hand over his heart withfirst a flush and then a paleness, indicative of pain.Such was the young clergyman s condition, and soimminent the prospect that his dawning light would beextinguished, all untimely, when Roger Chillingworthmade his advent to the town.His first entry on the scene,few people could tell whence, dropping down as it wereout of the sky or starting from the nether earth, had anaspect of mystery, which was easily heightened to themiraculous.He was now known to be a man of skill; itwas observed that he gathered herbs and the blossoms ofwild-flowers, and dug up roots and plucked off twigs fromthe forest-trees like one acquainted with hidden virtues inwhat was valueless to common eyes.He was heard tospeak of Sir Kenelm Digby and other famous menwhose scientific attainments were esteemed hardly lessthan supernatural as having been his correspondents orassociates.Why, with such rank in the learned world, hadhe come hither? What, could he, whose sphere was in180 of 394 The Scarlet Lettergreat cities, be seeking in the wilderness? In answer to thisquery, a rumour gained ground and however absurd,was entertained by some very sensible people thatHeaven had wrought an absolute miracle, by transportingan eminent Doctor of Physic from a German universitybodily through the air and setting him down at the doorof Mr.Dimmesdale s study! Individuals of wiser faith,indeed, who knew that Heaven promotes its purposeswithout aiming at the stage-effect of what is calledmiraculous interposition, were inclined to see aprovidential hand in Roger Chillingworth s so opportunearrival.This idea was countenanced by the strong interestwhich the physician ever manifested in the youngclergyman; he attached himself to him as a parishioner,and sought to win a friendly regard and confidence fromhis naturally reserved sensibility.He expressed great alarmat his pastor s state of health, but was anxious to attemptthe cure, and, if early undertaken, seemed not despondentof a favourable result.The elders, the deacons, themotherly dames, and the young and fair maidens of Mr.Dimmesdale s flock, were alike importunate that he shouldmake trial of the physician s frankly offered skill.Mr.Dimmesdale gently repelled their entreaties.181 of 394 The Scarlet Letter I need no medicine, said he.But how could the young minister say so, when, withevery successive Sabbath, his cheek was paler and thinner,and his voice more tremulous than before when it hadnow become a constant habit, rather than a casual gesture,to press his hand over his heart? Was he weary of hislabours? Did he wish to die? These questions weresolemnly propounded to Mr.Dimmesdale by the elderministers of Boston, and the deacons of his church, who,to use their own phrase, dealt with him, on the sin ofrejecting the aid which Providence so manifestly held out.He listened in silence, and finally promised to confer withthe physician. Were it God s will, said the Reverend Mr.Dimmesdale, when, in fulfilment of this pledge, herequested old Roger Chillingworth s professional advice, I could be well content that my labours, and my sorrows,and my sins, and my pains, should shortly end with me,and what is earthly of them be buried in my grave, and thespiritual go with me to my eternal state, rather than thatyou should put your skill to the proof in my behalf. Ah, replied Roger Chillingworth, with that quietness,which, whether imposed or natural, marked all hisdeportment, it is thus that a young clergyman is apt to182 of 394 The Scarlet Letterspeak
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