Hawthorne's Goodman Brown has obviously made a bargain of some sort with Satan, and -- from Adam and Eve who let themselves get tricked out of Eden to the medieval German Faust who signs his contract with Satan in blood to the washed-up, middle-aged ball-player in the Broadway play Damn Yankees who sells his soul to Satan so he can pitch for the hapless and now no-longer-existent Washington Senators against the "damn" Yankees in the winning game of the World Series -- everybody who deals with the Devil learns that making deals with Old Nick is a losing proposition. Look, just for one example, at what making a deal with the Serpent cost Adam and Eve:

To the woman, [God] said, "I will greatly increase thy pangs in childbearing; in pain shalt thou bring forth children. . .and [thy husband] shall rule over thee." And to the man he said, ". . .cursed is the ground because of thee; in toil thou shall eat of it all the days of thy life; thorns and thistles shall it bring forth for thee. . .By the sweat of thy face, thou shall eat bread until thou return to the ground; for out of it thou were taken: dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." (from Genesis 3: 16-19)

Death, hard labor, the incredible pains of childbirth, the subjugation of women to the tyranny of men, and thorns and thistles as well? Obviously the parents of the human race truly messed up by reasoning and bargaining with Satan, just as Faust flubbed up and ended by being dragged screaming and yelling into Hell, and just as the pitcher in the Broadway play commits an error which he eventually recognizes will cost him everything in life that he values if he fulfills his contract with Satan. So what is it that causes Young Goodman Brown to make such a risky deal? What does he stand to gain -- or to lose -- by voluntarily venturing into the forest and joining forces with what seems to be every Satan-worshipper in New England? These are not rhetorical questions, and answering them well is to understand more fully what Hawthorne's tale is really about.

There is, of course, no doubt that Brown goes into the forest to meet Satan and that the young man has already made a "covenant" with him. The old man may resemble Brown so much that they can be taken for father and son, but there are unmistakable clues as to the real identity of the stranger in the forest:

The only thing that could fixed on as remarkable about him was his staff, which bore the likeness of a great black snake, so curiously wrought that it might almost be seen to twist and wriggle itself like a living serpent. (paragraph #13)

Considering that Satan entered Eden as a serpent, this staff pretty well identifies the old man, but there are other clues as well: Goody Cloyse, for just one example, identifies him for us as "the devil." (paragraph #30) The old man's identity is perfectly clear, and the first conversation between the two men specifically mentions that Brown had already made a covenant to meet the Devil in the forest. (paragraph #15)

The question, therefore, is: What does Brown think he will gain by his covenant with Satan? In most stories about pacts with the Devil, the foolish bargainer is seeking special knowledge and/or abilities. When, for example, Satan explains to Eve that eating fruit of the forbidden tree will open her eyes "and you will be like God, knowing good and evil" (Genesis 3: 5-6), she immediately succumbs to temptation, and in most versions of the Faust story that foolish bargainer is seeking the knowledge of black magic so that he can be "like a god." Hawthorne puts no words in Brown's mouth to directly support such a motivation; but at the wild ceremony in the forest, Satan himself makes it clear what he promises those who bargain with him:

By the sympathy of your human hearts for sin, ye shall scent out all the places -- whether in church, bedchamber, street, field, or forest -- where crime has been committed. . .Far more than this! It shall be yours to penetrate in every bosom the deep mystery of sin, the fountain of wicked arts. . .Evil is the nature of mankind! Evil must be your only happiness!" (paragraphs #63-65)

Satan might as well be preaching this message of the total depravity of the human race from the Puritan pulpit right there in Salem. After all, it was the basic principle of the Calvinistic theology preached all over New England in colonial times. In any event, it surely seems as if Brown is being drawn into danger by his desire for special knowledge of the evil in mankind's heart.

If Brown is promised special knowledge, what does he risk? As the allegorical treatment of his little wife Faith makes clear, he risks the innocence and trust of naive faith in the goodness of other humans. As Satan almost mockingly puts it:

Depending upon one another's hearts, you had still hoped that virtue were not all a dream. Now are ye undeceived. (paragraph #65)

Once Goodman Brown cries out "My Faith is gone," he has acknowledged his loss and has ensured that "his dying hour was gloom."

Whether the reader takes this story to be about a literal Satan or whether the reader prefers his Satan to be a personification of Evil, the dynamics are the same. Whoever seeks the power of seeing into others' hearts, i.e., whoever chooses to deal with devil, had better be careful, for what surprising sins and crimes one finds there could chill the reader's heart forever. As we nearly all learn sooner or later, one must choose in life between being happily and naively innocent or being disappointed, cynical, and very hip.