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adversity; to be pretty acutely sensible with which party my

predilections lay; nor was it without something like regret and shame;

that; according to a reasonable calculation of chances; I saw my own

prospect of retaining office to be better than those of my

Democratic brethren。 But who can see an inch into futurity; beyond his

nose? My head was the first that fell!

  The moment when a man's head drops off is seldom or never; I am

inclined to think; precisely the most agreeable of his life。

Nevertheless; like the greater part of our misfortunes; even so

serious a contingency brings its remedy and consolation with it; if

the sufferer will but make the best; rather than the worst; of the

accident which has befallen him。 In my particular case; the

consolatory topics were close at hand; and; indeed; had suggested

themselves to my meditations a considerable time before it was

requisite to use them。 In view of my previous weariness of office; and

vague thoughts of resignation; my fortune somewhat resembled that of a

person who should entertain an idea of committing suicide; and;

although beyond his hopes; meet with the good hap to be murdered。 In

the Custom…House; as before in the Old Manse; I had spent three years;

a term long enough to rest a weary brain; long enough to break off old

intellectual habits; and make room for new ones; long enough; and

too long; to have lived in an unnatural state; doing what was really

of no advantage nor delight to any human being; and withholding myself

from toil that would; at least; have stilled an unquiet impulse in me。

Then; moreover; as regarded his unceremonious ejectment; the late

Surveyor was not altogether ill…pleased to be recognised by the

Whigs as an enemy; since his inactivity in political affairs… his

tendency to roam; at will; in that broad and quiet field where all

mankind may meet; rather than confine himself to those narrow paths

where brethren of the same household must diverge from one another…

had sometimes made it questionable with his brother Democrats

whether he was a friend。 Now; after he had won the crown of

martyrdom (though with no longer a head to wear it on); the point

might be looked upon as settled。 Finally; little heroic as he was;

it seemed more decorous to be overthrown in the downfall of the

party with which he had been content to stand; than to remain a

forlorn survivor; when so many worthier men were falling; and; at

last; after subsisting for four years on the mercy of a hostile

administration; to be compelled then to define his position anew;

and claim the yet more humiliating mercy of a friendly one。

  Meanwhile the press had taken up my affair; and kept me; for a

week or two; careering through the public prints; in my decapitated

state; like Irving's Headless Horseman; ghastly and grim; and

longing to be buried; as a politically dead man ought。 So much for

my figurative self。 The real human being; all this time; with his head

safely on his shoulders; had brought himself to the comfortable

conclusion that everything was for the best; and; making an investment

in ink; paper; and steel…pens; had opened his long…disused

writing…desk; and was again a literary man。

  Now it was that the lucubrations of my ancient predecessor; Mr。

Surveyor Pue; came into play。 Rusty through long idleness; some little

space was requisite before my intellectual machinery could be

brought to work upon the tale; with an effect in any degree

satisfactory。 Even yet; though my thoughts were ultimately much

absorbed in the task; it wears; to my eye; a stern and sombre

aspect; too much ungladdened by genial sunshine; too little relieved

by the tender and familiar influences which soften almost every

scene of nature and real life; and; undoubtedly; should soften every

picture of them。 This uncaptivating effect is perhaps due to the

period of hardly accomplished revolution; and still seething

turmoil; in which the story shaped itself。 It is no indication;

however; of a lack of cheerfulness in the writer's mind; for he was

happier; while straying through the gloom of these sunless

fantasies; than at any time since he had quitted the Old Manse。 Some

of the briefer articles; which contribute to make up the volume;

have likewise been written since my involuntary withdrawal from the

toils and honours of public life; and the remainder are gleaned from

annuals and magazines; of such antique date that they have gone

round the circle; and come back to novelty again。 Keeping up the

metaphor of the political guillotine; the whole may be considered as

the POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF A DECAPITATED SURVEYOR; and the sketch

which I am now bringing to a close; if too autobiographical for a

modest person to publish in his life…time; will readily be excused

in a gentleman who writes from beyond the grave。 Peace be with all the

world! My blessing on my friends! My forgiveness to my enemies! For

I am in the realm of quiet!

  The life of the Custom…House lies like a dream behind me。 The old

Inspector… who; by…the…bye; I regret to say; was overthrown and killed

by a horse; some time ago; else he would certainly have lived forever…

he; and all those other venerable personages who sat with him at the

receipt of custom; are but shadows in my view; white…headed and

wrinkled images; which my fancy used to sport with; and has now

flung aside forever。 The merchants… Pingree; Phillips; Shepard; Upton;

Kimball; Bertram; Hunt… these; and many other names; which had such

a classic familiarity for my ear six months ago… these men of traffic;

who seemed to occupy so important a position in the world… how

little time has it required to disconnect me from them all; not merely

in act; but recollection! It is with an effort that I recall the

figures and appellations of these few。 Soon; likewise; my old native

town will loom upon me through the haze of memory; a mist brooding

over and around it; as if it were no portion of the real earth; but an

overgrown village in cloudland; with only imaginary inhabitants to

people its wooden houses; and walk its homely lanes; and the

unpicturesque prolixity of its main street。 Henceforth; it ceases to

be a reality of my life; I am a citizen of somewhere else。 My good

townspeople will not much regret me; for… though it has been as dear

an object as any; in my literary efforts; to be of some importance

in their eyes; and to win myself a pleasant memory in this abode and

burial…place of so many of my forefathers… there has never been; for

me; the general atmosphere which a literary man requires; in order

to ripen the best harvest of his mind。 I shall do better amongst other

faces; and these familiar ones; it need hardly be said; will do just

as well without me。

  It may be; however… oh; transporting and triumphant thought!… that

the great…grandchildren of the present race may sometimes think kindly

of the scribbler of bygone days; when the antiquary of days to come;

among the sites memorable in the town's history; shall point out the

locality of THE TOWN PUMP!


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