In Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “Ethan Brand,” the title character undertakes a quest for the Unpardonable Sin; but the story does not simply follow the Scriptural definition of this sin: blasphemy against the Holy Spirit (Matthew 12:31-32; Mark 3:28-29; Luke 12:10). Hawthorne’s Brand defines the Unpardonable Sin in terms of a separation of the intellect and the heart, of losing his “hold of the magnetic chain of humanity.” Brand evidently experiments with people, drawing out the evil that lurks in their souls and bringing his victims to ruin in order to further his search.
This presentation might suggest that sin is to be seen in secular humanist terms–there being nothing higher than man, there is no greater morality than love for humanity. Yet Brand’s definition incorporates much traditional language: “The sin of an intellect that triumphed over the sense of brotherhood with man, and reverence for God, and sacrificed everything to its own mighty claims!” It is not merely the connection to one’s fellow men that is disturbed, but a larger chain of being and a higher obligation. Brand goes on to remark on the consequences of his sin: “The only sin that deserves a recompense of immortal agony! Freely, were it to do again, would I incur the guilt. Unshrinkingly, I accept the retribution!” This is the language of divine judgment and punishment, the language of a man shouting defiance at a tribunal higher than his fellow men.
The Dark Road of Sin and Doubt
Did Ethan Brand find the Unpardonable Sin? Hawthorne includes passages that cause the reader to doubt whether Brand truly completed his quest. The first seed of doubt is taken from the mind of Brand himself when he meets the three characters from the village and is repulsed by their vulgarity. Brand is disgusted that these men have squandered whatever potential they had by making themselves slaves to liquor. The question occurs to him whether through his own profound intellectual development he has found any greater sin than these men who have lowered themselves to the level of beasts.
The next indication that Ethan Brand may not have accomplished his mission comes from the one hint of remorse in the story. Brand has previously embraced and reveled in his guilt, but when the old man Humphrey asks Brand for news of his daughter, Esther, Brand does not trumpet his evil deeds; rather, he fears to face the father of the woman he destroyed: “Ethan Brand’s eye quailed beneath the old man’s.” He then turns away expressing something very like regret: “‘Yes,’ murmured he, turning away from the hoary wanderer; ‘it is no delusion. There is an Unpardonable Sin!’” Does Brand no longer exist in a state of unrepentant sinfulness? If he can feel remorse, is there a chance he could be pardoned by God, if not by Esther’s father?
One might also consider the episode of the dog. Brand notes some analogy between his quest and the old dog’s vain pursuit of his own tail. Hawthorne does not allow his readers to draw straight lines of correspondence, as he calls it a “remote analogy,” but the comment invites speculation. The analogy could be explained by reference to the circular nature of both Brand’s spiritual and physical journeys, but might not the futility of the dog’s desire be the point of comparison? We note that the dog has a short tail that could never be caught no matter how maniacal and determined the inexplicable chase; yet the animal exhibits “headlong eagerness in pursuit of an object that could not possibly be attained” until, exhausted, he ceases the pursuit “as far from his goal as ever.” Is Brand has engaged in a similar futile quest? If so, is this the analogy that Brand perceives? We see that Brand’s confidence about having completed his quest returns at the end of the story–when he is alone with no one present to cast doubts–but how confident is he at this moment? One might consider whether his unsettling laughter here is spurred by the same thought as his laughter at other points in the story.
What are we to make of the character of the traveling Jew? At first he seems merely a ridiculous figure, an old showman who ekes out a living through a mixture of obsequiousness and good humor. But it becomes clear that he has met Ethan Brand before. That their acquaintance was more than momentary is revealed by his knowledge of Brand’s project. In fact, he mocks Brand, eliciting an outburst of anger: “Peace!” answered Ethan Brand sternly, “or get thee into the furnace yonder!” He coaxes Brand to look into his picture box; what Brand sees spurs recognition: “I remember you now.” What does he see? The qualified indication is that he sees nothing. This event seems to recall past mockery to Brand’s memory–mockery that the scoffer repeats: “‘Ah, Captain,’ whispered the Jew of Nuremberg, with a dark smile, ‘I find it to be a heavy matter in my show box–this Unpardonable Sin! By my faith, Captain, it has wearied my shoulders, this long day, to carry it over the mountain.’” This remark, which provokes Brand’s anger, suggests that there is no such thing as the Unpardonable Sin.
The Path to Pardon
Whether we read this story in terms of traditional Christian notions of sin or according to a humanist conception, whether he found what he sought or not, “Ethan Brand” is a tale of self-destruction. Brand first throws his dark thoughts into the fire and then his own body; he cuts himself off from his fellow men and then embraces a death emblematic of that separation. Perhaps the message of the story is simply that the human intellect needs to recognize restraints–reverence for God, respect for fellow man–or it becomes destructive. From a humanist perspective, Ethan Brand’s fate is poetic justice. He perishes in a kind of Kantian revenge as he, who had used so many others as a means in pursuit of his ends, is himself used to enrich a lowly lime-burner.
Does Brand also cut himself off from God beyond any hope of pardon? Can he? While Hawthorne’s story evokes the biblical themes, the ambiguity and doubt surrounding them does not coincide with the teaching of Scripture. Brand does not appear to be a reader of the Bible. If he were, he would find there clear teaching about sin and forgiveness. From our first parent, every human being has been subject to sin and cut off from God. But in His grace and mercy, God has not left us to perish. He reached out to humanity to restore the broken relationship, and He paid the price for our sin Himself: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). Christ died “to redeem us from all lawlessness” (Titus 2:14) so that “everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name” (Acts 10:43). We are promised that “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).
There is no direct indication that Brand has blasphemed against the Holy Spirit, nor does he define his quest in those terms; but one suspects that finding one unpardonable sin is not the point. It is not one sin that gives him doubt, but his sinful state. Brand does not really believe in the possibility of forgiveness. He has done things that he believes are unforgiveable. If we forget or ignore what the Bible says, we, too, may fall into similar doubt. The subtitle Hawthorne gives to the story, “A Chapter from an Abortive Romance,” suggests that it was meant to be part of a longer tale. But whatever our story, however far back it stretches, whatever we have done, God will forgive us if we repent, reject our sin, and turn to Him: “Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out…” (Acts 3:19). Brand does not repent. His sins are unpardoned because he does not ask for pardon.