THE　BIRTHMARK
  In　the　latter　part　of　the　last　century　there　lived　a　man　of
  science；　an　eminent　proficient　in　every　branch　of　natural
  philosophy；　who　not　long　before　our　story　opens　had　made
  experience　of　a　spiritual　affinity　more　attractive　than　any
  chemical　one。　He　had　left　his　laboratory　to　the　care　of　an
  assistant；　cleared　his　fine　countenance　from　the　furnace　smoke；
  washed　the　stain　of　acids　from　his　fingers；　and　persuaded　a
  beautiful　woman　to　become　his　wife。　In　those　days　when　the
  comparatively　recent　discovery　of　electricity　and　other　kindred
  mysteries　of　Nature　seemed　to　open　paths　into　the　region　of
  miracle；　it　was　not　unusual　for　the　love　of　science　to　rival　the
  love　of　woman　in　its　depth　and　absorbing　energy。　The　higher
  intellect；　the　imagination；　the　spirit；　and　even　the　heart　might
  all　find　their　congenial　aliment　in　pursuits　which；　as　some　of
  their　ardent　votaries　believed；　would　ascend　from　one　step　of
  powerful　intelligence　to　another；　until　the　philosopher　should
  lay　his　hand　on　the　secret　of　creative　force　and　perhaps　make　new
  worlds　for　himself。　We　know　not　whether　Aylmer　possessed　this
  degree　of　faith　in　man's　ultimate　control　over　Nature。　He　had
  devoted　himself；　however；　too　unreservedly　to　scientific　studies
  ever　to　be　weaned　from　them　by　any　second　passion。　His　love　for
  his　young　wife　might　prove　the　stronger　of　the　two；　but　it　could
  only　be　by　intertwining　itself　with　his　love　of　science；　and
  uniting　the　strength　of　the　latter　to　his　own。
  Such　a　union　accordingly　took　place；　and　was　attended　with　truly
  remarkable　consequences　and　a　deeply　impressive　moral。　One　day；
  very　soon　after　their　marriage；　Aylmer　sat　gazing　at　his　wife
  with　a　trouble　in　his　countenance　that　grew　stronger　until　he
  spoke。
  〃Georgiana；〃　said　he；　〃has　it　never　occurred　to　you　that　the　mark
  upon　your　cheek　might　be　removed？〃
  〃No；　indeed；〃　said　she；　smiling；　but　perceiving　the　seriousness
  of　his　manner；　she　blushed　deeply。　〃To　tell　you　the　truth　it　has
  been　so　often　called　a　charm　that　I　was　simple　enough　to　imagine
  it　might　be　so。〃
  〃Ah；　upon　another　face　perhaps　it　might；〃　replied　her　husband；
  〃but　never　on　yours。　No；　dearest　Georgiana；　you　came　so　nearly
  perfect　from　the　hand　of　Nature　that　this　slightest　possible
  defect；　which　we　hesitate　whether　to　term　a　defect　or　a　beauty；
  shocks　me；　as　being　the　visible　mark　of　earthly　imperfection。〃
  〃Shocks　you；　my　husband！〃　cried　Georgiana；　deeply　hurt；　at　first
  reddening　with　momentary　anger；　but　then　bursting　into　tears。
  〃Then　why　did　you　take　me　from　my　mother's　side？　You　cannot　love
  what　shocks　you！〃
  To　explain　this　conversation　it　must　be　mentioned　that　in　the
  centre　of　Georgiana's　left　cheek　there　was　a　singular　mark；
  deeply　interwoven；　as　it　were；　with　the　texture　and　substance　of
  her　face。　In　the　usual　state　of　her　complexiona　healthy　though
  delicate　bloomthe　mark　wore　a　tint　of　deeper　crimson；　which
  imperfectly　defined　its　shape　amid　the　surrounding　rosiness。　When
  she　blushed　it　gradually　became　more　indistinct；　and　finally
  vanished　amid　the　triumphant　rush　of　blood　that　bathed　the　whole
  cheek　with　its　brilliant　glow。　But　if　any　shifting　motion　caused
  her　to　turn　pale　there　was　the　mark　again；　a　crimson　stain　upon
  the　snow；　in　what　Aylmer　sometimes　deemed　an　almost　fearful
  distinctness。　Its　shape　bore　not　a　little　similarity　to　the　human
  hand；　though　of　the　smallest　pygmy　size。　Georgiana's　lovers　were
  wont　to　say　that　some　fairy　at　her　birth　hour　had　laid　her　tiny
  hand　upon　the　infant's　cheek；　and　left　this　impress　there　in
  token　of　the　magic　endowments　that　were　to　give　her　such　sway
  over　all　hearts。　Many　a　desperate　swain　would　have　risked　life
  for　the　privilege　of　pressing　his　lips　to　the　mysterious　hand。　It
  must　not　be　concealed；　however；　that　the　impression　wrought　by
  this　fairy　sign　manual　varied　exceedingly；　according　to　the
  difference　of　temperament　in　the　beholders。　Some　fastidious
  personsbut　they　were　exclusively　of　her　own　sexaffirmed　that
  the　bloody　hand；　as　they　chose　to　call　it；　quite　destroyed　the
  effect　of　Georgiana's　beauty；　and　rendered　her　countenance　even
  hideous。　But　it　would　be　as　reasonable　to　say　that　one　of　those
  small　blue　stains　which　sometimes　occur　in　the　purest　statuary
  marble　would　convert　the　Eve　of　Powers　to　a　monster。　Masculine
  observers；　if　the　birthmark　did　not　heighten　their　admiration；
  contented　themselves　with　wishing　it　away；　that　the　world　might
  possess　one　living　specimen　of　ideal　loveliness　without　the
  semblance　of　a　flaw。　After　his　marriage；for　he　thought　little
  or　nothing　of　the　matter　before；Aylmer　discovered　that　this　was
  the　case　with　himself。
  Had　she　been　less　beautiful；if　Envy's　self　could　have　found
  aught　else　to　sneer　at；he　might　have　felt　his　affection
  heightened　by　the　prettiness　of　this　mimic　hand；　now　vaguely
  portrayed；　now　lost；　now　stealing　forth　again　and　glimmering　to
  and　fro　with　every　pulse　of　emotion　that　throbbed　within　her
  heart；　but　seeing　her　otherwise　so　perfect；　he　found　this　one
  defect　grow　more　and　more　intolerable　with　every　moment　of　their
  united　lives。　It　was　the　fatal　flaw　of　humanity　which　Nature；　in
  one　shape　or　another；　stamps　ineffaceably　on　all　her　productions；
  either　to　imply　that　they　are　temporary　and　finite；　or　that　their
  perfection　must　be　wrought　by　toil　and　pain。　The　crimson　hand
  expressed　the　ineludible　gripe　in　which　mortality　clutches　the
  highest　and　purest　of　earthly　mould；　degrading　them　into　kindred
  with　the　lowest；　and　even　with　the　very　brutes；　like　whom　their
  visible　frames　return　to　dust。　In　this　manner；　selecting　it　as
  the　symbol　of　his　wife's　liability　to　sin；　sorrow；　decay；　and
  death；　Aylmer's　sombre　imagination　was　not　long　in　rendering　the
  birthmark　a　frightful　object；　causing　him　more　trouble　and　horror
  than　ever　Georgiana's　beauty；　whether　of　soul　or　sense；　had　given
  him　delight。
  At　all　the　seasons　which　should　have　been　their　happiest；　he
  invariably　　and　without　intending　it；　nay；　in　spite　of　a　purpose
  to　the　contrary；　reverted　to　this　one　disastrous　topic。　Trifling
  as　it　at　first　appeared；　it　so　connected　itself　with　innumerable
  trains　of　thought　and　modes　of　feeling　that　it　became　the　central
  point　of　all。　With　the　morning　twilight　Aylmer　opened　his　eyes
  upon　his　wife's　face　and　recognized　the　symbol　of　imperfection；
  and　when　they　sat　together　at　the　evening　hearth　his　eyes
  wandered　stealthily　to　her　cheek；　and　beheld；　flickering　with　the
  blaze　of　the　wood　fire；　the　spectral　hand　that　wrote　mortality
  where　he　would　fain　have　worshipped。　Georgiana　soon　learned　to
  shudder　at　his　gaze。　It　needed　but　a　glance　with　the　peculiar
  expression　that　his　face　often　wore　to　change　the　roses　of　her
  cheek　into　a　deathlike　paleness；　amid　which　the　crimson　hand　was
  brought　strongly　out；　like　a　bass…relief　of　ruby　on　the　whitest
  marble。
  Late　one　night　when　the　lights　were　growing　dim；　so　as　hardly　to
  betray　the　stain　on　the　poor　wife's　cheek；　she　herself；　for　the
  first　time；　voluntarily　took　up　the　subject。
  〃Do　you　remember；　my　dear　Aylmer；〃　said　she；　with　a　feeble
  attempt　at　a　smile；　〃have　you　any　recollection　of　a　dream　last
  night　about　this　odious　hand？〃
  〃None！　none　whatever！〃　replied　Aylmer；　starting；　but　then　he
  added；　in　a　dry；　cold　tone；　affected　for　the　sake　of　concealing
  the　real　depth　of　his　emotion；　〃I　might　well　dream　of　it；　for
  before　I　fell　asleep　it　had　taken　a　pretty　firm　hold　of　my
  fancy。〃
  〃And　you　did　dream　of　it？〃　continued　Georgiana；　hastily；　for　she
  dreaded　lest　a　gush　of　tears　should　interrupt　what　she　had　to
  say。　〃A　terrible　dream！　I　wonder　that　you　can　forget　it。　Is　it
  possible　to　forget　this　one　expression？'It　is　in　her　heart　now；
  we　must　have　it　out！'　Reflect；　my　husband；　for　by　all　means　I
  would　have　you　recall　that　dream。〃
  The　mind　is　in　a　sad　state　when　Sleep；　the　all…involving；　cannot
  confine　her　spectres　within　the　dim　region　of　her　sway；　but
  suffers　them　to　break　forth；　affrighting　this　actual　life　with
  secrets　that　perchance　belong　to　a　deeper　one。　Aylmer　now
  remembered　his　dream。　He　had　fancied　himself　with　his　servant
  Aminadab；　attempting　an　operation　for　the　removal　of　the
  birthmark；　but　the　deeper　went　the　knife；　the　deeper　sank　the
  hand；　until　at　length　its　tiny　grasp　appeared　to　have　caught　hold
  of　Georgiana's　heart；　whence；　however；　her　husband　was　inexorably
  resolved　to　cut　or　wrench　it　away。
  When　the　dream　had　shaped　itself　perfectly　in　his　memory；　Aylmer
  sat　in　his　wife's　presence　with　a　guilty　feeling。　Truth　often
  finds　its　way　to　the　mind　close　muffled　in　robes　of　sleep；　and
  then　speaks　with　uncompromising　directness　of　matters　in　regard
  to　which　we　practise　an　unconscious　self…deception　during　our
  waking　moments。　Until　now　he　had　not　been　aware　of　the
  tyrannizing　influence　acquired　by　one　idea　over　his　mind；　and　of
  the　lengths　which　he　might　find　in　his　heart　to　go