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The Essay on Man is a philosophical poem, written, characteristically, it is in fact a fragment of a larger work which Pope planned but did not live to complete.

View Full Essay. Hawthorne uses names and objects to enhance the theme, and Jackson mainly utilizes names to stress the theme, although she does have one object as a symbol of great importance to the theme. The stories both contain symbols describing evil.

The majority of Hawthorne's symbols describe religion both good and evil , but Jackson's symbols reflect the evil nature within society as a whole. There exists symbolic acts in each story. Hawthorne uses the names Young Goodman Brown and Faith to portray nice, descent people. Jackson uses the name Mr. Graves throughout her story, he is the coordinator of the lottery.

She needs not give any explanation to the name, as it speaks for itself a symbol of death. Various other names are used as symbols within each story, however, these mentioned are the most significant names to the theme. The stories each contain names, objects, and acts as important symbols. Hawthorne uses the names to stress good people, but relies heavily on objects to portray Satanism. It is clearly identified when the old traveler throws it down in the sentence "it assumed life, being one of the rods which its owner had formerly lent to the Egyptian Magi" Summers began talking about a new box, but every year the subject was allowed to fade off without anything's being done" The fact it is an old black wore out box puts evil thoughts in ones mind while reading the story.

The symbolic objects in each story differ, Hawthorne's are to show Satanism, rather than the evil in people as Jackson's shows. The stories each contain symbolic acts. We have been a race of honest men and good Christians, since the days of the martyrs. And shall I be the first of the name of Brown, that ever took this path and kept--".

I have been as well acquainted with your family as with ever a one among the Puritans; and that's no trifle to say. I helped your grandfather, the constable, when he lashed the Quaker woman so smartly through the streets of Salem. And it was I that brought your father a pitch-pine knot, kindled at my own hearth, to set fire to an Indian village, in King Philip's War. I would fain be friends with you, for their sake. Or, verily, I marvel not, seeing that the least rumor of the sort would have driven them from New England.

We are a people of prayer, and good works to boot, and abide no such wickedness. The deacons of many a church have drunk the communion wine with me; the selectmen, of divers towns, make me their chairman; and a majority of the Great and General Court are firm supporters of my interest. The governor and I, too--but these are state-secrets. But, were I to go on with thee, how should I meet the eye of that good old man, our minister, at Salem village? Oh, his voice would make me tremble, both Sabbath-day and lecture-day! It would break her dear little heart; and I'd rather break my own!

I would not, for twenty old women like the one hobbling before us, that Faith should come to any harm. Being a stranger to you, she might ask whom I was consorting with, and whither I was going.

Archetypal Analysis of “Young Goodman Brown”

She, meanwhile, was making the best of her way, with singular speed for so aged a woman, and mumbling some indistinct words, a prayer, doubtless, as she went. The traveller put forth his staff, and touched her withered neck with what seemed the serpent's tail. But--would your worship believe it? But now your good worship will lend me your arm, and we shall be there in a twinkling. Of this fact, however, Goodman Brown could not take cognizance. He had cast up his eyes in astonishment, and looking down again, beheld neither Goody Cloyse nor the serpentine staff, but his fellow-traveller alone, who waited for him as calmly as if nothing had happened.

The Use of Symbolism in Young Goodman Brown ⇒ Free Book Summary

As they went, he plucked a branch of maple, to serve for a walking-stick, and began to strip it of the twigs and little boughs, which were wet with evening dew. The moment his fingers touched them, they became strangely withered and dried up, as with a week's sunshine.

Thus the pair proceeded, at a good free pace, until suddenly, in a gloomy hollow of the road, Goodman Brown sat himself down on the stump of a tree, and refused to go any farther.

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Not another step will I budge on this errand. What if a wretched old woman do choose to go to the devil, when I thought she was going to Heaven! Is that any reason why I should quit my dear Faith, and go after her? The young man sat a few moments by the road-side, applauding himself greatly, and thinking with how clear a conscience he should meet the minister, in his morning-walk, nor shrink from the eye of good old Deacon Gookin. And what calm sleep would be his, that very night, which was to have been spent so wickedly, but purely and sweetly now, in the arms of Faith!

zieturzomens.tk Amidst these pleasant and praiseworthy meditations, Goodman Brown heard the tramp of horses along the road, and deemed it advisable to conceal himself within the verge of the forest, conscious of the guilty purpose that had brought him thither, though now so happily turned from it. These mingled sounds appeared to pass along the road, within a few yards of the young man's hiding-place; but owing, doubtless, to the depth of the gloom, at that particular spot, neither the travellers nor their steeds were visible.

Though their figures brushed the small boughs by the way-side, it could not be seen that they intercepted, even for a moment, the faint gleam from the strip of bright sky, athwart which they must have passed. Goodman Brown alternately crouched and stood on tip-toe, pulling aside the branches, and thrusting forth his head as far as he durst, without discerning so much as a shadow. It vexed him the more, because he could have sworn, were such a thing possible, that he recognized the voices of the minister and Deacon Gookin, jogging along quietly, as they were wont to do, when bound to some ordination or ecclesiastical council.

While yet within hearing, one of the riders stopped to pluck a switch. They tell me that some of our community are to be here from Falmouth and beyond, and others from Connecticut and Rhode-Island; besides several of the Indian powows, who, after their fashion, know almost as much deviltry as the best of us.

Moreover, there is a goodly young woman to be taken into communion.


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Nothing can be done, you know, until I get on the ground. Whither, then, could these holy men be journeying, so deep into the heathen wilderness? Young Goodman Brown caught hold of a tree, for support, being ready to sink down on the ground, faint and overburthened with the heavy sickness of his heart. He looked up to the sky, doubting whether there really was a Heaven above him. Yet, there was the blue arch, and the stars brightening in it. The blue sky was still visible, except directly overhead, where this black mass of cloud was sweeping swiftly northward.

Aloft in the air, as if from the depths of the cloud, came a confused and doubtful sound of voices.

SYMBOLISM IN YOUNG GOODMAN BROWN

Once, the listener fancied that he could distinguish the accent of town's-people of his own, men and women, both pious and ungodly, many of whom he had met at the communion-table, and had seen others rioting at the tavern. The next moment, so indistinct were the sounds, he doubted whether he had heard aught but the murmur of the old forest, whispering without a wind.

Then came a stronger swell of those familiar tones, heard daily in the sunshine, at Salem village, but never, until now, from a cloud of night. There was one voice, of a young woman, uttering lamentations, yet with an uncertain sorrow, and entreating for some favor, which, perhaps, it would grieve her to obtain.

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And all the unseen multitude, both saints and sinners, seemed to encourage her onward. There was a scream, drowned immediately in a louder murmur of voices, fading into far-off laughter, as the dark cloud swept away, leaving the clear and silent sky above Goodman Brown.


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But something fluttered lightly down through the air, and caught on the branch of a tree. The young man seized it, and beheld a pink ribbon. Come, devil! The road grew wilder and drearier, and more faintly traced, and vanished at length, leaving him in the heart of the dark wilderness, still rushing onward, with the instinct that guides mortal man to evil. The whole forest was peopled with frightful sounds; the creaking of the trees, the howling of wild beasts, and the yell of Indians; while, sometimes the wind tolled like a distant church-bell, and sometimes gave a broad roar around the traveller, as if all Nature were laughing him to scorn.

But he was himself the chief horror of the scene, and shrank not from its other horrors. Think not to frighten me with your deviltry! Come witch, come wizard, come Indian powow, come devil himself!