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1836 TWICE-TOLD TALES THE MINISTER'S BLACK …

1836 TWICE-TOLD TALES THE MINISTER'S BLACK VEIL A PARABLE by Nathaniel Hawthorne Electronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1991, World Library, THE SEXTON stood in the porch of Milford meeting-house, pullingbusily at the bell-rope. The old people of the village came stoopingalong the street. Children, with bright faces, tripped merrilybeside their parents, or mimicked a graver gait, in the consciousdignity of their Sunday clothes. Spruce bachelors looked sidelong atthe pretty maidens, and fancied that the Sabbath sunshine made themprettier than on week days.

had starched his band, and brushed the weekly dust from his Sunday's garb. There was but one thing remarkable in his appearance. Swathed about his forehead, and hanging down over his face, so low as to be

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Transcription of 1836 TWICE-TOLD TALES THE MINISTER'S BLACK …

1 1836 TWICE-TOLD TALES THE MINISTER'S BLACK VEIL A PARABLE by Nathaniel Hawthorne Electronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1991, World Library, THE SEXTON stood in the porch of Milford meeting-house, pullingbusily at the bell-rope. The old people of the village came stoopingalong the street. Children, with bright faces, tripped merrilybeside their parents, or mimicked a graver gait, in the consciousdignity of their Sunday clothes. Spruce bachelors looked sidelong atthe pretty maidens, and fancied that the Sabbath sunshine made themprettier than on week days.

2 When the throng had mostly streamed intothe porch, the sexton began to toll the bell, keeping his eye on theReverend Mr. Hooper's door. The first glimpse of the clergyman'sfigure was the signal for the bell to cease its summons. "But what has good Parson Hooper got upon his face?" cried thesexton in astonishment. All within hearing immediately turned about, and beheld thesemblance of Mr. Hooper, pacing slowly his meditative way towardsthe meeting-house. With one accord they started, expressing morewonder than if some strange minister were coming to dust thecushions of Mr. Hooper's pulpit.

3 "Are you sure it is our parson?" inquired Goodman Gray of thesexton. "Of a certainty it is good Mr. Hooper," replied the sexton. "He wasto have exchanged pulpits with Parson Shute, of Westbury; but ParsonShute sent to excuse himself yesterday, being to preach a funeralsermon." The cause of so much amazement may appear sufficiently Hooper, a gentlemanly person, of about thirty, though still abachelor, was dressed with due clerical neatness, as if a careful wifehad starched his band, and brushed the weekly dust from his Sunday'sgarb. There was but one thing remarkable in his appearance.

4 Swathedabout his forehead, and hanging down over his face, so low as to beshaken by his breath, Mr. Hooper had on a BLACK veil. On a nearer viewit seemed to consist of two folds of crape, which entirely concealedhis features, except the mouth and chin, but probably did notintercept his sight, further than to give a darkened aspect to allliving and inanimate things. With this gloomy shade before him, goodMr. Hooper walked onward, at a slow and quiet pace, stooping somewhat,and looking on the ground, as is customary with abstracted men, yetnodding kindly to those of his parishioners who still waited on themeeting-house steps.

5 But so wonder-struck were they that hisgreeting hardly met with a return. "I can't really feel as if good Mr. Hooper's face was behind thatpiece of crape," said the sexton. "I don't like it," muttered an old woman, as she hobbled into themeeting-house. "He has changed himself into something awful, only byhiding his face." "Our parson has gone mad!" cried Goodman Gray, following him acrossthe threshold. A rumor of some unaccountable phenomenon had preceded Mr. Hooperinto the meeting-house, and set all the congregation astir. Fewcould refrain from twisting their heads towards the door; many stoodupright, and turned directly about; while several little boysclambered upon the seats, and came down again with a terribleracket.

6 There was a general bustle, a rustling of the women's gownsand shuffling of the men's feet, greatly at variance with thathushed repose which should attend the entrance of the minister . ButMr. Hooper appeared not to notice the perturbation of his people. Heentered with an almost noiseless step, bent his head mildly to thepews on each side, and bowed as he passed his oldest parishioner, awhite-haired great-grandsire, who occupied an arm-chair in thecentre of the aisle. It was strange to observe how slowly thisvenerable man became conscious of something singular in the appearanceof his pastor.

7 He seemed not fully to partake of the prevailingwonder, till Mr. Hooper had ascended the stairs, and showed himself inthe pulpit, face to face with his congregation, except for the blackveil. That mysterious emblem was never once withdrawn. It shook withhis measured breath, as he gave out the psalm; it threw itsobscurity between him and the holy page, as he read the Scriptures;and while he prayed, the veil lay heavily on his uplifted he seek to hide it from the dread Being whom he was addressing? Such was the effect of this simple piece of crape, that more thanone woman of delicate nerves was forced to leave the perhaps the pale-faced congregation was almost as fearful asight to the minister , as his BLACK veil to them.

8 Mr. Hooper had the reputation of a good preacher, but not anenergetic one: he strove to win his people heavenward by mild,persuasive influences, rather than to drive them thither by thethunders of the Word. The sermon which he now delivered was markedby the same characteristics of style and manner as the generalseries of his pulpit oratory. But there was something, either in thesentiment of the discourse itself, or in the imagination of theauditors, which made it greatly the most powerful effort that they hadever heard from their pastor's lips. It was tinged, rather more darklythan usual, with the gentle gloom of Mr.

9 Hooper's temperament. Thesubject had reference to secret sin, and those sad mysteries whichwe hide from our nearest and dearest, and would fain conceal fromour own consciousness, even forgetting that the Omniscient candetect them. A subtle power was breathed into his words. Each memberof the congregation, the most innocent girl, and the man of hardenedbreast, felt as if the preacher had crept upon them, behind hisawful veil, and discovered their hoarded iniquity of deed orthought. Many spread their clasped hands on their bosoms. There wasnothing terrible in what Mr. Hooper said, at least, no violence; andyet, with every tremor of his melancholy voice, the hearers quaked.

10 Anunsought pathos came hand in hand with awe. So sensible were theaudience of some unwonted attribute in their minister , that theylonged for a breath of wind to blow aside the veil, almost believingthat a stranger's visage would be discovered, though the form,gesture, and voice were those of Mr. Hooper. At the close of the services, the people hurried out withindecorous confusion, eager to communicate their pent-up amazement,and conscious of lighter spirits the moment they lost sight of theblack veil. Some gathered in little circles, huddled closely together,with their mouths all whispering in the centre; some went homewardalone, wrapt in silent meditation; some talked loudly, and profanedthe Sabbath day with ostentatious laughter.


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