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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！