introductory-第10节

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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！