pious a task. Meanwhile, they shall be at the command of any
gentleman, inclined and competent, to take the unprofitable
labour off my hands. As a final disposition I contemplate
depositing them with the Essex Historical Society. But the
object that most drew my attention to the mysterious package was
a certain affair of fine red cloth, much worn and faded, There
were traces about it of gold embroidery, which, however, was
greatly frayed and defaced, so that none, or very little, of the
glitter was left. It had been wrought, as was easy to perceive,
with wonderful skill of needlework; and the stitch (as I am
assured by ladies conversant with such mysteries) gives evidence
of a now forgotten art, not to be discovered even by the process
of picking out the threads. This rag of scarlet cloth--for time,
and wear, and a sacrilegious moth had reduced it to little other
than a rag--on careful examination, assumed the shape of a
letter.

It was the capital letter A. By an accurate measurement, each
limb proved to be precisely three inches and a quarter in
length. It had been intended, there could be no doubt, as an
ornamental article of dress; but how it was to be worn, or what
rank, honour, and dignity, in by-past times, were signified by
it, was a riddle which (so evanescent are the fashions of the
world in these particulars) I saw little hope of solving. And
yet it strangely interested me. My eyes fastened themselves upon
the old scarlet letter, and would not be turned aside. Certainly
there was some deep meaning in it most worthy of interpretation,
and which, as it were, streamed forth from the mystic symbol,
subtly communicating itself to my sensibilities, but evading the
analysis of my mind.