The Minister's Black Veil
A Parable
THE SEXTON stood in the porch of Milford meeting-house, pulling busily at the bell-rope. The old people of the village came stooping along the street. Children, with bright faces, tripped merrily beside their parents, or mimicked a graver gait, in the conscious dignity of their Sunday clothes. Spruce bachelors looked sidelong at the pretty maidens, and fancied that the Sabbath sunshine made them prettier than on week days. When the throng had mostly streamed into the porch, the sexton began to toll the bell, keeping his eye on the Reverend Mr. Hooper's door. The first glimpse of the clergyman's figure was the signal for the bell to cease its summons.
"But what has good Parson Hooper got upon his face?" cried the sexton in astonishment.
All within hearing immediately turned about, and beheld the semblance of Mr. Hooper, pacing slowly his meditative way towards the meeting-house. With one accord they started, expressing more wonder than if some strange minister were coming to dust the cushions of Mr. Hooper's pulpit.
"Are you sure it is our parson?" inquired Goodman Gray of the sexton.
"Of a certainty it is good Mr. Hooper," replied the sexton. "He was to have exchanged pulpits with Parson Shute, of Westbury; but Parson Shute sent to excuse himself yesterday, being to preach a funeral sermon."
The cause of so much amazement may appear sufficiently slight. Mr. Hooper, a gentlemanly person, of about thirty, though still a bachelor, was dressed with due clerical neatness, as if a careful wife 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 shaken by his breath, Mr. Hooper had on a black veil. On a nearer view it seemed to consist of two folds of crape, which entirely concealed his features, except the mouth and chin, but probably did not intercept his sight, further than to give a darkened aspect to all living and inanimate things. With this gloomy shade before him, good Mr. Hooper walked onward, at a slow and quiet pace, stooping somewhat, and looking on the ground, as is customary with abstracted men, yet nodding kindly to those of his parishioners who still waited on the meeting-house steps. But so wonder-struck were they that his greeting hardly met with a return.
"I can't really feel as if good Mr. Hooper's face was behind that piece of crape," said the sexton.
"I don't like it," muttered an old woman, as she hobbled into the meeting-house. "He has changed himself into something awful, only by hiding his face."
"Our parson has gone mad!" cried Goodman Gray, following him across the threshold.
A rumor of some unaccountable phenomenon had preceded Mr. Hooper into the meeting-house, and set all the congregation astir. Few could refrain from twisting their heads towards the door; many stood upright, and turned directly about; while several little boys clambered upon the seats, and came down again with a terrible racket. There was a general bustle, a rustling of the women's gowns and shuffling of the men's feet, greatly at variance with that hushed repose which should attend the entrance of the minister. But Mr. Hooper appeared not to notice the perturbation of his people. He entered with an almost noiseless step, bent his head mildly to the pews on each side, and bowed as he passed his oldest parishioner, a white-haired great-grandsire, who occupied an arm-chair in the centre of the aisle. It was strange to observe how slowly this venerable man became conscious of something singular in the appearance of his pastor. He seemed not fully to partake of the prevailing wonder, till Mr. Hooper had ascended the stairs, and showed himself in the pulpit, face to face with his congregation, except for the black veil. That mysterious emblem was never once withdrawn. It shook with his measured breath, as he gave out the psalm; it threw its obscurity between him and the holy page, as he read the Scriptures; and while he prayed, the veil lay heavily on his uplifted countenance. Did 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 than one woman of delicate nerves was forced to leave the meeting-house. Yet perhaps the pale-faced congregation was almost as fearful a sight to the minister, as his black veil to them.
Mr. Hooper had the reputation of a good preacher, but not an energetic one: he strove to win his people heavenward by mild, persuasive influences, rather than to drive them thither by the thunders of the Word. The sermon which he now delivered was marked by the same characteristics of style and manner as the general series of his pulpit oratory. But there was something, either in the sentiment of the discourse itself, or in the imagination of the auditors, which made it greatly the most powerful effort that they had ever heard from their pastor's lips. It was tinged, rather more darkly than usual, with the gentle gloom of Mr. Hooper's temperament. The subject had reference to secret sin, and those sad mysteries which we hide from our nearest and dearest, and would fain conceal from our own consciousness, even forgetting that the Omniscient can detect them. A subtle power was breathed into his words. Each member of the congregation, the most innocent girl, and the man of hardened breast, felt as if the preacher had crept upon them, behind his awful veil, and discovered their hoarded iniquity of deed or thought. Many spread their clasped hands on their bosoms. There was nothing terrible in what Mr. Hooper said, at least, no violence; and yet, with every tremor of his melancholy voice, the hearers quaked. An unsought pathos came hand in hand with awe. So sensible were the audience of some unwonted attribute in their minister, that they longed for a breath of wind to blow aside the veil, almost believing that 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 with indecorous confusion, eager to communicate their pent-up amazement, and conscious of lighter spirits the moment they lost sight of the black veil. Some gathered in little circles, huddled closely together, with their mouths all whispering in the centre; some went homeward alone, wrapt in silent meditation; some talked loudly, and profaned the Sabbath day with ostentatious laughter. A few shook their sagacious heads, intimating that they could penetrate the mystery; while one or two affirmed that there was no mystery at all, but only that Mr. Hooper's eyes were so weakened by the midnight lamp, as to require a shade. After a brief interval, forth came good Mr. Hooper also, in the rear of his flock. Turning his veiled face from one group to another, he paid due reverence to the hoary heads, saluted the middle aged with kind dignity as their friend and spiritual guide, greeted the young with mingled authority and love, and laid his hands on the little children's heads to bless them. Such was always his custom on the Sabbath day. Strange and bewildered looks repaid him for his courtesy. None, as on former occasions, aspired to the honor of walking by their pastor's side. Old Squire Saunders, doubtless by an accidental lapse of memory, neglected to invite Mr. Hooper to his table, where the good clergyman had been wont to bless the food, almost every Sunday since his settlement. He returned, therefore, to the parsonage, and, at the moment of closing the door, was observed to look back upon the people, all of whom had their eyes fixed upon the minister. A sad smile gleamed faintly from beneath the black veil, and flickered about his mouth, glimmering as he disappeared.
"How strange," said a lady, "that a simple black veil, such as any woman might wear on her bonnet, should become such a terrible thing on Mr. Hooper's face!"
"Something must surely be amiss with Mr. Hooper's intellects," observed her husband, the physician of the village. "But the strangest part of the affair is the effect of this vagary, even on a sober-minded man like myself. The black veil, though it covers only our pastor's face, throws its influence over his whole person, and makes him ghostlike from head to foot. Do you not feel it so?"
"Truly do I," replied the lady; "and I would not be alone with him for the world. I wonder he is not afraid to be alone with himself!"
"Men sometimes are so," said her husband.
The afternoon service was attended with similar circumstances. At its conclusion, the bell tolled for the funeral of a young lady. The relatives and friends were assembled in the house, and the more distant acquaintances stood about the door, speaking of the good qualities of the deceased, when their talk was interrupted by the appearance of Mr. Hooper, still covered with his black veil. It was now an appropriate emblem. The clergyman stepped into the room where the corpse was laid, and bent over the coffin, to take a last farewell of his deceased parishioner. As he stooped, the veil hung straight down from his forehead, so that, if her eyelids had not been closed forever, the dead maiden might have seen his face. Could Mr. Hooper be fearful of her glance, that he so hastily caught back the black veil? A person who watched the interview between the dead and living, scrupled not to affirm, that, at the instant when the clergyman's features were disclosed, the corpse had slightly shuddered, rustling the shroud and muslin cap, though the countenance retained the composure of death. A superstitious old woman was the only witness of this prodigy. From the coffin Mr. Hooper passed into the chamber of the mourners, and thence to the head of the staircase, to make the funeral prayer. It was a tender and heart-dissolving prayer, full of sorrow, yet so imbued with celestial hopes, that the music of a heavenly harp
ผิวดำของรัฐมนตรีมีนิทานคติสอนใจ SEXTON ยืนอยู่ในระเบียงของประชุมบ้านลฟอร์ด ดึงเชือกระฆังยุ่ง คนเก่าของหมู่บ้านมา stooping ไปตามถนน เด็ก หน้าใส tripped merrily ข้างพ่อ หรือ mimicked เดินที่ graver ในศักดิ์ศรีสติของเสื้อผ้าของพวกเขาวันอาทิตย์ ปริญญาตรีแค่มอง sidelong ที่เมเดนสวย และ fancied ที่ซันไชน์วันสะบาโตทำให้พวกเขาสวยกว่าวันสัปดาห์ เมื่อมีการส่งกระแสข้อมูลนั่งมีส่วนใหญ่เป็นระเบียง sexton การเริ่มโทรเบลล์ รักษาตาของเขาบนประตูของ Reverend นายรับ ค้นหารูปของ clergyman แรกถูกสัญญาณสำหรับเบลล์เซาของเอสเธอร์"แต่อะไรดีรับ Parson มีตามใบหน้าของเขา" ร้อง sexton ใน astonishmentภายในได้ยินทันทีเปิดเกี่ยวกับ ก beheld semblance ของนายรับ pacing เขาเข้าฌานไปทางบ้านประชุมช้า พรึบ ก็เริ่ม กำลังใจเพิ่มมากขึ้นกว่าถ้ารัฐมนตรีบางแปลกมาปัดฝุ่นเบาะของนายรับแท่นเทศน์"คุณแน่ใจเป็น parson ของเรา" ทูลเทาคลาของ sexton"แน่นอนมันเป็นดีนายรับ ตอบกลับ sexton "พระองค์ได้แลกเปลี่ยน pulpits Parson Shute ของ Westbury แต่ Parson Shute ส่งไปขอโทษตัวเองเมื่อวานนี้ การเทศน์เทศน์งานศพ"สาเหตุของความประหลาดใจมากอาจปรากฏพอเล็กน้อย นายรับ สุภาพบุรุษคน ประมาณ 30 ยังคงปริญญาตรี ว่าได้แต่งตัวด้วยครบกำหนด neatness เสมียน ว่าภรรยาระวังมี starched วงดนตรีของเขา และทาสีฝุ่นประจำสัปดาห์จากวันอาทิตย์ของ garb มีแต่สิ่งหนึ่งที่โดดเด่นในรูปลักษณ์ของเขา Swathed เกี่ยวกับเขาหน้าผาก แขวนลงทั่วใบหน้าของเขา ดังนั้นต่ำไปถูกเขย่า โดยลมหายใจของเขา นายรับได้บนผิวดำ มองเอื้อมเหมือนประกอบด้วยสองพับของ crape ซึ่งทั้งหมดปกปิดคุณลักษณะของเขา ยกเว้นปากและคาง แต่อาจไม่ได้ดักเขาสายตา ระดับการให้มุมมองภาพที่มืดลงสิ่งชีวิต และ inanimate มีร่มนี้มืดมนก่อนเขา รับนายดีเดินในจังหวะช้า และเงียบ เป็นต้น ไป stooping ค่อนข้าง และมองเรา เป็นพิธีกับบทบาทชาย ได้ nodding กับ parishioners ของเขาที่ยังคง รออยู่ตอนประชุมบ้านกรุณา แต่ให้ใจหลงถูกพวกที่อวยพรของเขาแทบไม่พบกับกลับ"ผมไม่รู้สึกว่าหน้าดีนายรับของได้หลังชิ้นส่วนของ crape ว่า sexton"ฉันไม่ชอบ muttered หญิงชรา เป็นเธอ hobbled เข้าประชุมบ้าน "เขามีการเปลี่ยนแปลงตัวเองเป็นสิ่งที่น่ากลัว โดยซ่อนใบหน้าของเขาเท่านั้น""Parson เราหายบ้า" ร้องคลาเทา ตามเขาข้ามขีดจำกัดข่าวลือบางปรากฏการณ์ unaccountable มีหน้ารับนายเข้าประชุมบ้าน และตั้งชุมนุมชนทั้งหมดนัก ไม่กี่สามารถละเว้นการบิดศีรษะของพวกเขาไปยังประตู หลายคนยืนตรง และโดยตรงเกี่ยวกับ ความเกลียด ในขณะที่เด็กชายตัวเล็ก ๆ หลาย clambered ที่นั่ง และมาลงอีกครั้งกับไม้น่ากลัว มีทั่วไปคึกคัก rustling ของชุดของผู้หญิง และสับของเท้าของผู้ชาย มากทับต่าง ๆ ที่ hushed ซึ่งควรร่วมของรัฐมนตรีว่าการกระทรวง แต่นายรับปรากฏไม่ให้ สังเกตเห็น perturbation คนของเขา เขาป้อน ด้วยมีขั้นตอนมืด ๆ เกือบ เงี้ยวศีรษะ mildly pews ในแต่ละด้าน และลง ตามเขาผ่าน parishioner เก่าของเขา เป็นขาว haired ดี-grandsire ที่ครอบครองเก้าอี้แขนเป็นของเก็บ แปลกสังเกตวิธีช้าคนนี้มินท์เป็นตระหนักสิ่งเอกพจน์ในลักษณะที่ปรากฏของศิษยาภิบาลของเขาได้ เขาดูเหมือนไม่เต็มใจยึด เข้าร่วมจนนายรับได้แถมยังบันได และแสดงให้เห็นตัวเองในแท่นเทศน์ face to face with คณะของเขา ยกเว้นผิวดำ เคยมีถอนสัญลักษณ์ที่ลึกลับ มันจับกับลมหายใจของเขาวัด ตามเขาให้อธิษฐาน มันโยนของ obscurity ระหว่างเขาและหน้าศักดิ์สิทธิ์ เขาอ่านคัมภีร์ และในขณะที่เขาอธิษฐาน ม่านวางหนักบนเขาสนับสนุนเชิญ เขาไม่ต้องการซ่อนจากความกลัวในการที่ เขาถูกกำหนดSuch was the effect of this simple piece of crape, that more than one woman of delicate nerves was forced to leave the meeting-house. Yet perhaps the pale-faced congregation was almost as fearful a sight to the minister, as his black veil to them.Mr. Hooper had the reputation of a good preacher, but not an energetic one: he strove to win his people heavenward by mild, persuasive influences, rather than to drive them thither by the thunders of the Word. The sermon which he now delivered was marked by the same characteristics of style and manner as the general series of his pulpit oratory. But there was something, either in the sentiment of the discourse itself, or in the imagination of the auditors, which made it greatly the most powerful effort that they had ever heard from their pastor's lips. It was tinged, rather more darkly than usual, with the gentle gloom of Mr. Hooper's temperament. The subject had reference to secret sin, and those sad mysteries which we hide from our nearest and dearest, and would fain conceal from our own consciousness, even forgetting that the Omniscient can detect them. A subtle power was breathed into his words. Each member of the congregation, the most innocent girl, and the man of hardened breast, felt as if the preacher had crept upon them, behind his awful veil, and discovered their hoarded iniquity of deed or thought. Many spread their clasped hands on their bosoms. There was nothing terrible in what Mr. Hooper said, at least, no violence; and yet, with every tremor of his melancholy voice, the hearers quaked. An unsought pathos came hand in hand with awe. So sensible were the audience of some unwonted attribute in their minister, that they longed for a breath of wind to blow aside the veil, almost believing that 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 with indecorous confusion, eager to communicate their pent-up amazement, and conscious of lighter spirits the moment they lost sight of the black veil. Some gathered in little circles, huddled closely together, with their mouths all whispering in the centre; some went homeward alone, wrapt in silent meditation; some talked loudly, and profaned the Sabbath day with ostentatious laughter. A few shook their sagacious heads, intimating that they could penetrate the mystery; while one or two affirmed that there was no mystery at all, but only that Mr. Hooper's eyes were so weakened by the midnight lamp, as to require a shade. After a brief interval, forth came good Mr. Hooper also, in the rear of his flock. Turning his veiled face from one group to another, he paid due reverence to the hoary heads, saluted the middle aged with kind dignity as their friend and spiritual guide, greeted the young with mingled authority and love, and laid his hands on the little children's heads to bless them. Such was always his custom on the Sabbath day. Strange and bewildered looks repaid him for his courtesy. None, as on former occasions, aspired to the honor of walking by their pastor's side. Old Squire Saunders, doubtless by an accidental lapse of memory, neglected to invite Mr. Hooper to his table, where the good clergyman had been wont to bless the food, almost every Sunday since his settlement. He returned, therefore, to the parsonage, and, at the moment of closing the door, was observed to look back upon the people, all of whom had their eyes fixed upon the minister. A sad smile gleamed faintly from beneath the black veil, and flickered about his mouth, glimmering as he disappeared."How strange," said a lady, "that a simple black veil, such as any woman might wear on her bonnet, should become such a terrible thing on Mr. Hooper's face!""Something must surely be amiss with Mr. Hooper's intellects," observed her husband, the physician of the village. "But the strangest part of the affair is the effect of this vagary, even on a sober-minded man like myself. The black veil, though it covers only our pastor's face, throws its influence over his whole person, and makes him ghostlike from head to foot. Do you not feel it so?""Truly do I," replied the lady; "and I would not be alone with him for the world. I wonder he is not afraid to be alone with himself!""Men sometimes are so," said her husband.The afternoon service was attended with similar circumstances. At its conclusion, the bell tolled for the funeral of a young lady. The relatives and friends were assembled in the house, and the more distant acquaintances stood about the door, speaking of the good qualities of the deceased, when their talk was interrupted by the appearance of Mr. Hooper, still covered with his black veil. It was now an appropriate emblem. The clergyman stepped into the room where the corpse was laid, and bent over the coffin, to take a last farewell of his deceased parishioner. As he stooped, the veil hung straight down from his forehead, so that, if her eyelids had not been closed forever, the dead maiden might have seen his face. Could Mr. Hooper be fearful of her glance, that he so hastily caught back the black veil? A person who watched the interview between the dead and living, scrupled not to affirm, that, at the instant when the clergyman's features were disclosed, the corpse had slightly shuddered, rustling the shroud and muslin cap, though the countenance retained the composure of death. A superstitious old woman was the only witness of this prodigy. From the coffin Mr. Hooper passed into the chamber of the mourners, and thence to the head of the staircase, to make the funeral prayer. It was a tender and heart-dissolving prayer, full of sorrow, yet so imbued with celestial hopes, that the music of a heavenly harp
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