To this extent he
is better than Chillingworth, who, in order to take into his own hands
the retribution that belongs to Heaven, deliberately adopts falsity for
his guide, and becomes a monster of deceit, taking a wicked joy in that
which ought to have awakened an endless, piteous horror in him instead,
and have led to new contemplation and study of virtue. But Dimmesdale,
though not coolly and maliciously false, stops short of open confession,
and in this submits himself to the most occult and corrosive influence
of his own sin. For him, the single righteousness possible consisted in
abject acknowledgment. Once announcing that he had fallen, and was
unworthy, he might have taken his place on the lower moral plane; and,
equally resigning the hope of public honor and of happiness with Hester,
he could have lent his crippled energies to the doing of some limited
good. The shock to the general belief in probity would have been great;
but the discovery that the worst had been made known, that the minister
was strong enough to condemn himself, and descend from the place he no
longer was fit for, would have restored the public mind again, by
showing it that a deeper probity possible than that which it wanted to
see sustained. This is the lesson of the tragedy, that nothing is so
destructive as the morality of mere appearances. Not that sincerity in
sin is a virtue, but that it is better than sin and falsehood combined.
And if anything were wanting, at first, to make this clear, there
certainly is not a particle of obscurity left by the glare of the
catastrophe, when the clergyman rejects Hester's hope that he and she
may meet after death, and spend their immortal life together, and says
that God has proved his mercy most of all by the afflictions he has laid
upon him.
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