byNathanielHawthorne
THATVERYSINGULARMAN，oldDr。Heidegger，onceinvitedfour
venerablefriendstomeethiminhisstudy。Therewerethree
white-beardedgentlemen，Mr。Medbourne，ColonelKilligrew，andMr。
Gascoigne，andawitheredgentlewoman，whosenamewastheWidow
Wycherly。Theywereallmelancholyoldcreatures，whohadbeen
unfortunateinlife，andwhosegreatestmisfortuneitwasthatthey
werenotlongagointheirgraves。Mr。Medbourne，inthevigorof
hisage，hadbeenaprosperousmerchant，buthadlosthisallbya
franticspeculation，andwasnowlittlebetterthanamendicant。
ColonelKilligrewhadwastedhisbestyears，andhishealthand
substance，inthepursuitofsinfulpleasures，whichhadgivenbirth
toabroodofpains，suchasthegout，anddiversothertormentsof
soulandbody。Mr。Gascoignewasaruinedpolitician，amanofevil
fame，oratleasthadbeensotilltimehadburiedhimfromthe
knowledgeofthepresentgeneration，andmadehimobscureinsteadof
infamous。AsfortheWidowWycherly，traditiontellsusthatshewasa
greatbeautyinherday；but，foralongwhilepast，shehadlived
indeepseclusion，onaccountofcertainscandalousstorieswhich
hadprejudicedthegentryofthetownagainsther。Itisa
circumstanceworthmentioningthateachofthesethreeold
gentlemen，Mr。Medbourne，ColonelKilligrew，andMr。Gascoigne，were
earlyloversoftheWidowWycherly，andhadoncebeenonthepoint
ofcuttingeachother’sthroatsforhersake。And，beforeproceeding
further，IwillmerelyhintthatDr。Heideggerandallhisfourguests
weresometimesthoughttobealittlebesidethemselves-asisnot
unfrequentlythecasewitholdpeople，whenworriedeitherby
presenttroublesorwofulrecollections。
“Mydearoldfriends。”saidDr。Heidegger，motioningthemtobe
seated，Iamdesirousofyourassistanceinoneofthoselittle
experimentswithwhichIamusemyselfhereinmystudy。”
Ifallstoriesweretrue，Dr。Heidegger’sstudymusthavebeena
verycuriousplace。Itwasadim，old-fashionedchamber，festooned
withcobwebs，andbesprinkledwithantiquedust。Aroundthewalls
stoodseveraloakenbookcases，thelowershelvesofwhichwere
filledwithrowsofgiganticfoliosandblack-letterquartos，and
theupperwithlittleparchment-coveredduodecimos。Overthecentral
bookcasewasabronzebustofHippocrates，withwhich，accordingto
someauthorities，Dr。Heideggerwasaccustomedtoholdconsultations
inalldifficultcasesofhispractice。Intheobscurestcornerofthe
roomstoodatallandnarrowoakencloset，withitsdoorajar，
withinwhichdoubtfullyappearedaskeleton。Betweentwoofthe
bookcaseshungalooking-glass，presentingitshighanddustyplate
withinatarnishedgiltframe。Amongmanywonderfulstoriesrelatedof
thismirror，itwasfabledthatthespiritsofallthedoctor’s
deceasedpatientsdweltwithinitsverge，andwouldstarehiminthe
facewheneverhelookedthitherward。Theoppositesideofthe
chamberwasornamentedwiththefull-lengthportraitofayoung
lady，arrayedinthefadedmagnificenceofsilk，satin，andbrocade，
andwithavisageasfadedasherdress。Abovehalfacenturyago，Dr。
Heideggerhadbeenonthepointofmarriagewiththisyounglady；but，
beingaffectedwithsomeslightdisorder，shehadswallowedoneofher
lover’sprescriptions，anddiedonthebridalevening。Thegreatest
curiosityofthestudyremainstobementioned；itwasaponderous
foliovolume，boundinblackleather，withmassivesilverclasps。
Therewerenolettersontheback，andnobodycouldtellthetitle
ofthebook。Butitwaswellknowntobeabookofmagic；andonce，
whenachambermaidhadliftedit，merelytobrushawaythedust，the
skeletonhadrattledinitscloset，thepictureoftheyounglady
hadsteppedonefootuponthefloor，andseveralghastlyfaceshad
peepedforthfromthemirror；whilethebrazenheadofHippocrates
frowned，andsaid-“Forbear！”
SuchwasDr。Heidegger’sstudy。Onthesummerafternoonofourtale
asmallroundtable，asblackasebony，stoodinthecentreofthe
room，sustainingacut-glassvaseofbeautifulformandelaborate
workmanship。Thesunshinecamethroughthewindow，betweentheheavy
festoonsoftwofadeddamaskcurtains，andfelldirectlyacrossthis
vase；sothatamildsplendorwasreflectedfromitontheashen
visagesofthefiveoldpeoplewhosataround。Fourchampagne
glasseswerealsoonthetable。
“Mydearoldfriends。”repeatedDr。Heidegger，“mayIreckonon
youraidinperforminganexceedinglycuriousexperiment？”
NowDr。Heideggerwasaverystrangeoldgentleman，whose
eccentricityhadbecomethenucleusforathousandfantastic
stories。Someofthesefables，tomyshamebeitspoken，might
possiblybetracedbacktomyownveraciousself；andifany
passagesofthepresenttaleshouldstartlethereader’sfaith，Imust
becontenttobearthestigmaofafictionmonger。
Whenthedoctor’sfourguestsheardhimtalkofhisproposed
experiment，theyanticipatednothingmorewonderfulthanthemurderof
amouseinanairpump，ortheexaminationofacobwebbythe
microscope，orsomesimilarnonsense，withwhichhewasconstantly
inthehabitofpesteringhisintimates。Butwithoutwaitingfora
reply，Dr。Heideggerhobbledacrossthechamber，andreturnedwiththe
sameponderousfolio，boundinblackleather，whichcommonreport
affirmedtobeabookofmagic。Undoingthesilverclasps，heopened
thevolume，andtookfromamongitsblack-letterpagesarose，orwhat
wasoncearose，thoughnowthegreenleavesandcrimsonpetalshad
assumedonebrownishhue，andtheancientflowerseemedreadyto
crumbletodustinthedoctor’shands。
“Thisrose，saidDr。Heidegger，withasigh，“thissamewithered
andcrumblingflower，blossomedfiveandfiftyyearsago。Itwasgiven
mebySylviaWard，whoseportraithangsyonder；andImeanttowearit
inmybosomatourwedding。Fiveandfiftyyearsithasbeentreasured
betweentheleavesofthisoldvolume。Now，wouldyoudeemitpossible
thatthisroseofhalfacenturycouldeverbloomagain？”
“Nonsense！”saidtheWidowWycherly，withapeevishtossofher
head。“Youmightaswellaskwhetheranoldwoman’swrinkledface
couldeverbloomagain。”
“See！”answeredDr。Heidegger。
Heuncoveredthevase，andthrewthefadedroseintothewater
whichitcontained。Atfirst，itlaylightlyonthesurfaceofthe
fluid，appearingtoimbibenoneofitsmoisture。Soon，however，a
singularchangebegantobevisible。Thecrushedanddriedpetals
stirred，andassumedadeepeningtingeofcrimson，asiftheflower
wererevivingfromadeathlikeslumber；theslenderstalkandtwigsof
foliagebecamegreen；andtherewastheroseofhalfacentury，
lookingasfreshaswhenSylviaWardhadfirstgivenittoher
lover。Itwasscarcelyfullblown；forsomeofitsdelicateredleaves
curledmodestlyarounditsmoistbosom，withinwhichtwoorthree
dewdropsweresparkling。
“Thatiscertainlyaveryprettydeception。”saidthedoctor’s
friends；carelessly，however，fortheyhadwitnessedgreater
miraclesataconjurer’sshow；“prayhowwasiteffected？”
“Didyouneverhearofthe’FountainofYouth’？”askedDr。
Heidegger，“whichPoncedeLeon，theSpanishadventurer，wentin
searchoftwoorthreecenturiesago？”
“ButdidPoncedeLeoneverfindit？”saidtheWidowWycherly。
“No，answeredDr。Heidegger，“forheneversoughtitintheright
place。ThefamousFountainofYouth，ifIamrightlyinformed，is
situatedinthesouthernpartoftheFloridianpeninsula，notfarfrom
LakeMacaco。Itssourceisovershadowedbyseveralgiganticmagnolias，
which，thoughnumberlesscenturiesold，havebeenkeptasfreshas
violetsbythevirtuesofthiswonderfulwater。Anacquaintanceof
mine，knowingmycuriosityinsuchmatters，hassentmewhatyousee
inthevase。”
“Ahem！”saidColonelKilligrew，whobelievednotawordofthe
doctor’sstory：“andwhatmaybetheeffectofthisfluidonthehuman
frame？”
“Youshalljudgeforyourself，mydearcolonel。”repliedDr。
Heidegger；“andallofyou，myrespectedfriends，arewelcometoso
muchofthisadmirablefluidasmayrestoretoyouthebloomofyouth。
Formyownpart，havinghadmuchtroubleingrowingold，Iaminno
hurrytogrowyoungagain。Withyourpermission，therefore，Iwill
merelywatchtheprogressoftheexperiment。”
Whilehespoke，Dr。Heideggerhadbeenfillingthefourchampagne
glasseswiththewateroftheFountainofYouth。Itwasapparently
impregnatedwithaneffervescentgas，forlittlebubbleswere
continuallyascendingfromthedepthsoftheglasses，andbursting
insilverysprayatthesurface。Astheliquordiffusedapleasant
perfume，theoldpeopledoubtednotthatitpossessedcordialand
comfortableproperties；andthoughutterscepticsastoits
rejuvenescentpower，theywereinclinedtoswallowitatonce。ButDr。
Heideggerbesoughtthemtostayamoment。
“Beforeyoudrink，myrespectableoldfriends。”saidhe，“it
wouldbewellthat，withtheexperienceofalifetimetodirectyou，
youshoulddrawupafewgeneralrulesforyourguidance，inpassinga
secondtimethroughtheperilsofyouth。Thinkwhatasinandshameit
wouldbe，if，withyourpeculiaradvantages，youshouldnotbecome
patternsofvirtueandwisdomtoalltheyoungpeopleoftheage！”
Thedoctor’sfourvenerablefriendsmadehimnoanswer，exceptbya
feebleandtremulouslaugh；soveryridiculouswastheideathat，
knowinghowcloselyrepentancetreadsbehindthestepsoferror，
theyshouldevergoastrayagain。
“Drink，then。”saidthedoctor，bowing：“IrejoicethatIhaveso
wellselectedthesubjectsofmyexperiment。”
Withpalsiedhands，theyraisedtheglassestotheirlips。The
liquor，ifitreallypossessedsuchvirtuesasDr。Heideggerimputed
toit，couldnothavebeenbestowedonfourhumanbeingswhoneededit
morewofully。Theylookedasiftheyhadneverknownwhatyouthor
pleasurewas，buthadbeentheoffspringofNature’sdotage，and
alwaysthegray，decrepit，sapless，miserablecreatures，whonowsat
stoopingroundthedoctor’stable，withoutlifeenoughintheir
soulsorbodiestobeanimatedevenbytheprospectofgrowingyoung
again。Theydrankoffthewater，andreplacedtheirglassesonthe
table。
Assuredlytherewasanalmostimmediateimprovementintheaspect
oftheparty，notunlikewhatmighthavebeenproducedbyaglassof
generouswine，togetherwithasuddenglowofcheerfulsunshine
brighteningoveralltheirvisagesatonce。Therewasahealthful
suffusionontheircheeks，insteadoftheashenhuethathadmadethem
looksocorpse-like。Theygazedatoneanother，andfanciedthat
somemagicpowerhadreallybeguntosmoothawaythedeepandsad
inscriptionswhichFatherTimehadbeensolongengravingontheir
brows。TheWidowWycherlyadjustedhercap，forshefeltalmostlikea
womanagain。
“Giveusmoreofthiswondrouswater！”criedthey，eagerly。“Weare
younger-butwearestilltooold！Quick-giveusmore！”
“Patience，patience！”quothDr。Heidegger，whosatwatchingthe
experimentwithphilosophiccoolness。“Youhavebeenalongtime
growingold。Surely，youmightbecontenttogrowyounginhalfan
hour！Butthewaterisatyourservice。”
Againhefilledtheirglasseswiththeliquorofyouth，enoughof
whichstillremainedinthevasetoturnhalftheoldpeopleinthe
citytotheageoftheirowngrandchildren。Whilethebubbleswereyet
sparklingonthebrim，thedoctor’sfourguestssnatchedtheirglasses
fromthetable，andswallowedthecontentsatasinglegulp。Wasit
delusion？evenwhilethedraughtwaspassingdowntheirthroats，it
seemedtohavewroughtachangeontheirwholesystems。Theireyes
grewclearandbright；adarkshadedeepenedamongtheirsilvery
locks，theysataroundthetable，threegentlemenofmiddleage，anda
woman，hardlybeyondherbuxomprime。