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〃Home？ Why； I AM at home； am I not？ What do you mean？〃
〃No。 This is no longer your home。 You have deceived me。 You are
a Mormon。 I know all。 You have become a convert to that apostle
of hell； Brigham Young； and you cannot live with me。 I love you
still； Elsie； dearly； butyou must go and live with your father。〃
Nathaniel Hawthorne
The Minister's Black Veil
A PARABLE＇1＇
＇1＇ Another clergyman in New England； Mr。 Joseph Moody； of York；
Maine； made himself remarkable by the same eccentricity that is
here related of the Reverend Mr。 Hooper。 In his case； however；
the symbol had a different import。 In early life he had
accidentally killed a beloved friend； and from that day till
the hour of his own death； he hid his face from men。
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 meetinghouse。 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