THE LEECH This idea was countenanced by the strong interest which the physician ever manifested in the young clergyman; he attached himself to him as a parishioner, and sought to win a friendly regard and confidence from his naturally reserved sensibility. He expressed great alarm at his pastor's state of health, but was anxious to attempt the cure, and, if early undertaken, seemed not despondent of a favourable result. The elders, the deacons, the motherly dames, and the young and fair maidens of Mr. Dimmesdale's flock, were alike importunate that he should make trial of the physician's frankly offered skill. Mr. Dimmesdale gently repelled their entreaties.
"I need no medicine," said he. But how could the young minister say so, when, with every successive Sabbath, his cheek was paler and thinner, and his voice more tremulous than before—when it had now become a constant habit, rather than a casual gesture, to press his hand over his heart? Was he weary of his labours? Did he wish to die? These questions were solemnly propounded to Mr. Dimmesdale by the elder ministers of Boston, and the deacons of his church, who, to use their own phrase, "dealt with him," on the sin of rejecting the aid which Providence so manifestly held out. He listened in silence, and finally promised to confer with the physician. "Were it God's will," said the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale, when, in fulfilment of this pledge, he requested 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 the spiritual go with me to my eternal state, rather than that you should put your skill to the proof in my behalf." "Ah," replied Roger Chillingworth, with that quietness, which, whether imposed or natural, marked all his deportment, "it is thus that a young clergyman is apt to speak. Youthful men, not having taken a deep root, give up their hold of life so easily! And saintly men, who walk with God on earth, would fain be away, to walk with him on the golden pavements of the New Jerusalem."
"Nay," reed the young minister, putting his hand to his heart, with a flush of pain flitting over his brow, "were I worthier to walk there, I could be better content to toil here."
"Good men ever interpret themselves too meanly," said the physician.
In this manner, the mysterious old Roger Chillingworth became the medical adviser of the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale. As not only the disease interested the physician, but he was strongly moved to look into the character and qualities of the patient, these two men, so different in age, came gradually to spend much time together. For the sake of the minister's health, and to enable the leech to gather plants with healing balm in them, they took long walks on the sea-shore, or in the forest; mingling various walks with the splash and murmur of the waves, and the solemn wind-anthem among the tree-tops. Often, likewise, one was the guest of the other in his place of study and retirement. There was a fascination for the minister in the company of the man of science, in whom he recognised an intellectual cultivation of no moderate depth or scope; together with a range and freedom of ideas, that he would have vainly looked for among the of his own profession. In truth, he was startled, if not shocked, to find this attribute in the physician. Mr. Dimmesdale was a true priest, a true religionist, with the reverential sentiment largely developed, and an order of mind that impelled itself powerfully along the track of a creed, and wore its age continually deeper with the lapse of time.
In no state of society would he have been what is called a man of liberal views; it would always be essential to his peace to feel the pressure of a faith about him, ing, while it confined him within its iron framework. Not the less, however, though with a tremulous enjoyment, did he feel the occasional relief of looking at the universe through the medium of another kind of intellect than those with which he habitually held converse. It was as if a window were thrown open, itting a freer atmosphere into the close and stifled study, where his life was wasting itself away, amid lamp-light, or obstructed day-beams, and the musty fragrance, be it sensual or moral, that exhales from books. But the air was too fresh and chill to be long breathed with comfort. So the minister, and the physician with him, withdrew again within the limits of what their Church defined as orthodox. Thus Roger Chillingworth scrutinised his patient carefully, both as he saw him in his ordinary life, keeping an accustomed pathway in the range of thoughts familiar to him, and as he appeared when thrown amidst other moral scenery, the novelty of which might call out something new to the surface of his character. He deemed it essential, it would seem, to know the man, before attempting to do him good. Wherever there is a heart and an intellect, the diseases of the physical frame are tinged with the peculiarities of these. In Arthur Dimmesdale, thought and imagination were so active, and sensibility so intense, that the bodily infirmity would be likely to have its groundwork there. So Roger Chillingworth—the man of skill, the kind and friendly physician—strove to go deep into his patient's bosom, delving among his principles, prying into his recollections, and probing everything with a cautious touch, like a treasure-seeker in a dark cavern. Few secrets can escape an investigator, who has opportunity and licence to undertake such a quest, and skill to follow it up. A man burdened with a secret should especially avoid the intimacy of his physician. If the latter possess native sagacity, and a nameless something more,—let us call it intuition; if he show no intrusive egotism, nor disagreeable prominent characteristics of his own; if he have the power, which must be born with him, to bring his mind into such affinity with his patient's, that this last shall unawares have spoken what he imagines himself only to have thought; if such revelations be received without tumult, and acknowledged not so often by an uttered sympathy as by silence, an inarticulate breath, and here and there a word to indicate that all is understood; if to these qualifications of a confidant be ed the advantages afforded by his recognised character as a physician;—then, at some inevitable moment, will the soul of the sufferer be dissolved, and flow forth in a dark but transparent stream, bringing all its mysteries into the daylight. |
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EL MDICO Daba consistencia a esta idea el gran inters que el fsico, como se deca en aquellos tiempos, manifest desde el principio por el joven eclesistico, a quin se apeg como uno de sus feligreses; y a pesar de la reserva natural de aquel, trat de ganarse su amistad y su confianza. Manifest gran alarma por el estado de la salud de su pastor, y tambin grandes deseos de probar si poda curarle, y no desesperaba de conseguirlo si se emprenda la obra en tiempo. Los funcionarios de la iglesia del Sr. Dimmesdale, as como las damas casadas y las jvenes y bellas seoritas, sus feligreses, le instaron para que se aprovechara de la habilidad del mdico, que tan generosamente se haba ofrecido a servirle. El Sr. Dimmesdale, rehus con dulzura sus instancias.
—No necesito medicina, dijo.
Pero cmo poda hablar as el joven ministro, cuando con cada domingo que pasaba sus mejillas se volvan ms plidas, su rostro ms delgado, y su voz ms trmula; y cuando ya se haba convertido en hbito constante oprimirse el corazn con la mano? Estaba fatigado de sus labores? Deseaba morir? Estas preguntas le fueron solemnemente hechas al Sr. Dimmesdale por los ministros ms ancianos de Boston y por los dignatarios de su misma iglesia quienes, para emplear su propio lenguaje, le amonestaron acerca del pecado que cometa en rechazar el auxilio que la Providencia tan manifiestamente le presentaba. Los oy en silencio y finalmente prometi consultarse con el mdico.
—Si fuere la voluntad de Dios,—dijo el Reverendo Sr. Dimmesdale cuando en cumplimiento de su promesa pidi al anciano Roger Chillingworth los auxilios de su profesin,—estara contento con que mis labores, y mis penas, y mis pecados, terminaran pronto junto con mi existencia, y lo que en m es terrenal se enterrase en mi sepultura, y lo que es espiritual me acompaara a mi morada eterna, antes que poner a prueba vuestra habilidad en beneficio mo.
—Ah!—replic el mdico con aquella calma que, natural o impuesta, distingua todas sus maneras,—as es como un joven eclesistico habla por lo comn. La juventud, por lo mismo que no ha echado aun races profundas, con facilidad renuncia a la vida. Y los hombres devotos y buenos que siguen en la tierra los preceptos de Dios, con gusto dejaran este mundo para estar a su lado en la Nueva Jerusaln.
—No,—replic Dimmesdale llevndose la mano al corazn, con una rpida rubicundez en la frente y una contraccin de dolor en el rostro,—si yo fuera ms digno de ir all, tendra ms satisfaccin en trabajar aqu.
—Los hombres buenos siempre se forman de s propios una idea demasiado mezquina,—dijo el mdico.
De esta manera el misterioso Roger Chillingworth se convirti en el consejero mdico del Reverendo Sr. Dimmesdale. Como no solamente la enfermedad despertaba el inters del mdico, sino tambin el carcter y cualidades de su paciente, estos dos hombres, tan diferentes en edad, gradualmente llegaron a pasar mucho tiempo juntos. En beneficio de la salud del eclesistico, y para facilitar al mdico la mejor manera de recoger las plantas con propiedades medicinales que le eran necesarias, daban largos paseos a orillas del mar o por el bosque, mezclando su variada conversacin con el rumor y cadencia de las olas, y el solemne murmullo del viento en la copa de los rboles. Con frecuencia tambin, uno era el husped del otro; y para el joven ministro haba una especie de fascinacin en la sociedad del hombre de ciencia, en quien reconoca un desenvolvimiento intelectual de un alcance y profundidad nada comunes, juntamente con una liberalidad y amplitud de ideas que en vano tratara de buscar en los de su profesin. En realidad de verdad, se qued sorprendido, si no escandalizado, al descubrir esta ltima cualidad en el mdico.
El Sr. Dimmesdale era un verdadero sacerdote, en la significacin vasta de esta palabra: un hombre verdaderamente religioso, con el sentimiento de la reverencia muy desarrollado, y con un gnero de inteligencia que le obligaba a no desviarse de los senderos estrechos de la fe, que cada da se volva en l ms profunda. En ningn estado de la sociedad habra sido lo que se llama hombre de ideas liberales; siempre hubiera necesitado, para la paz de su espritu, sentir que la fe le rodeaba por todas partes, sostenindolo, al mismo tiempo que estrechndolo en un crculo de hierro. a pesar de esto, si bien con trmulo gozo, experimentaba una especie de desahogo temporal en poder contemplar el universo al travs de una inteligencia del todo diferente a aquellas con que habitualmente estaba en o. Era como si se hubiere abierto una ventana por donde penetrara un aire ms puro en la atmsfera densa y sofocante de su estudio, donde su vida se iba consumiendo a la luz de la lmpara, o a los rayos del sol que all penetraban con dificultad, y donde aspiraba solamente el olor enmohecido que se desprende de los libros. Pero aquel aire era demasiado sutil y fro para que pudiese respirarse con seguridad por mucho tiempo; de consiguiente, el eclesistico, as como el mdico, volvieron a entrar en los lmites que permite la iglesia para no caer en hereja.
De este modo examin a su paciente con el mayor esmero y cuidado, no solo como le vea en su vida diaria, sin desviarse del sendero de las ideas y sentimientos que le eran habituales, sino tambin como se le presentaba cuando, en otro medio diferente tanto moral como intelectual, la novedad de ese medio haca dar expresin a algo que era igualmente nuevo en su naturaleza. Parece que consideraba esencial conocer al hombre antes de intentar curarle; porque donde quiera que existen combinados corazn e inteligencia, tienen estos cierto influjo en las enfermedades del cuerpo. La imaginacin y el cerebro eran tan activos en Arturo Dimmesdale, y tan intensa la sensibilidad, que sus males fsicos tenan seguramente origen en aquellos. Por lo tanto, Roger Chillingworth,—el hombre hbil, el mdico benvolo y amistoso,—trat de sondear primero el corazn de su paciente, rastreando sus ideas y principios, escudriando sus recuerdos y tentndolo todo con cautelosa mano, como quien busca un tesoro en sombra caverna.
Pocos secretos pueden escapar al investigador que tiene la oportunidad y la licencia de dedicarse a semejante empresa, y posee la sagacidad de llevarla adelante. El hombre que se siente abrumado bajo el peso de un grave secreto, debe evitar especialmente la intimidad de su mdico; porque si ste se hallare dotado de natural sagacidad y de cierto no s qu, a manera de intuicin; si no demuestra vanidad importuna, ni cualidades caractersticas desagradables; si tiene la facultad innata de establecer tal afinidad entre su inteligencia y la de su paciente, que ste llegue a hablar, con llaneza y por descuido, lo que se imagina haber pensado solamente; si tales revelaciones se reciben en silencio, con una simple mirada de simpata, o a lo ms con una que otra palabra en que se d a entender que todo se ha comprendido; y si a estas cualidades necesarias a un confidente se unieren las ventajas que presta la circunstancia de ser mdico,—entonces, en un momento inevitable, el alma del paciente se abrir descubriendo a la luz del da sus ms ocultos misterios. |