1 Good Master Wilson, I pray you, examine this.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In VIII. THE ELF-CHILD AND THE MINISTER 2 A good evening to you, venerable Father Wilson.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In XII. THE MINISTER'S VIGIL 3 "Speak to the woman, my brother," said Mr. Wilson.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In III. THE RECOGNITION 4 "Nay; it would be sinful, in such a question, to follow the clue of profane philosophy," said Mr. Wilson.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In VIII. THE ELF-CHILD AND THE MINISTER 5 "Never," replied Hester Prynne, looking, not at Mr. Wilson, but into the deep and troubled eyes of the younger clergyman.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In III. THE RECOGNITION 6 The venerable Father Wilson continued to step slowly onward, looking carefully at the muddy pathway before his feet, and never once turning his head towards the guilty platform.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In XII. THE MINISTER'S VIGIL 7 Little Pearl's unwonted mood of sentiment lasted no longer; she laughed, and went capering down the hall so airily, that old Mr. Wilson raised a question whether even her tiptoes touched the floor.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In VIII. THE ELF-CHILD AND THE MINISTER 8 Such was the young man whom the Reverend Mr. Wilson and the Governor had introduced so openly to the public notice, bidding him speak, in the hearing of all men, to that mystery of a woman's soul, so sacred even in its pollution.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In III. THE RECOGNITION 9 The voice which had called her attention was that of the reverend and famous John Wilson, the eldest clergyman of Boston, a great scholar, like most of his contemporaries in the profession, and withal a man of kind and genial spirit.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In III. THE RECOGNITION 10 After putting her finger in her mouth, with many ungracious refusals to answer good Mr. Wilson's question, the child finally announced that she had not been made at all, but had been plucked by her mother off the bush of wild roses that grew by the prison-door.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In VIII. THE ELF-CHILD AND THE MINISTER 11 This creed was never taught, for instance, by the venerable pastor, John Wilson, whose beard, white as a snow-drift, was seen over Governor Bellingham's shoulders, while its wearer suggested that pears and peaches might yet be naturalised in the New England climate, and that purple grapes might possibly be compelled to flourish against the sunny garden-wall.
The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel HawthorneContextHighlight In VIII. THE ELF-CHILD AND THE MINISTER