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　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　SCARLET　LETTER

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　by　Nathaniel　Hawthorne



INTRODUCTORY

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　CUSTOM…HOUSE。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　INTRODUCTORY　TO　〃THE　SCARLET　LETTER〃。



　　IT　is　a　little　remarkable；　that…　though　disinclined　to　talk　overmuch

of　myself　and　my　affairs　at　the　fireside；　and　to　my　personal

friends…　an　autobiographical　impulse　should　twice　in　my　life　have

taken　possession　of　me；　in　addressing　the　public。　The　first　time　was

three　or　four　years　since；　when　I　favoured　the　reader…　inexcusably；

and　for　no　earthly　reason；　that　either　the　indulgent　reader　or　the

intrusive　author　could　imagine…　with　a　description　of　my　way　of　life

in　the　deep　quietude　of　an　Old　Manse。　And　now…　because；　beyond　my

deserts；　I　was　happy　enough　to　find　a　listener　or　two　on　the　former

occasion…　I　again　seize　the　public　by　the　button；　and　talk　of　my　three

years'　experience　in　a　Custom…House。　The　example　of　the　famous　〃P。　P。；

Clerk　of　this　Parish；〃　was　never　more　faithfully　followed。　The　truth

seems　to　be；　however；　that；　when　he　casts　his　leaves　forth　upon　the

wind；　the　author　addresses；　not　the　many　who　will　fling　aside　his

volume；　or　never　take　it　up；　but　the　few　who　will　understand　him；

better　than　most　of　his　schoolmates　or　lifemates。　Some　authors；

indeed；　do　far　more　than　this；　and　indulge　themselves　in　such

confidential　depths　of　revelation　as　could　fittingly　be　addressed；

only　and　exclusively；　to　the　one　heart　and　mind；　of　perfect

sympathy；　as　if　the　printed　book；　thrown　at　large　on　the　wide　world；

were　certain　to　find　out　the　divided　segment　of　the　writer's　own

nature；　and　complete　his　circle　of　existence　by　bringing　him　into

communion　with　it。　It　is　scarcely　decorous；　however；　to　speak　all；

even　where　we　speak　impersonally。　But；　as　thoughts　are　frozen　and

utterance　benumbed；　unless　the　speaker　stand　in　some　true　relation

with　his　audience；　it　may　be　pardonable　to　imagine　that　a　friend；　a

kind　and　apprehensive；　though　not　the　closest　friend；　is　listening

to　our　talk；　and　then；　a　native　reserve　being　thawed　by　this　genial

consciousness；　we　may　prate　of　the　circumstances　that　lie　around　us；

and　even　of　ourself；　but　still　keep　the　inmost　Me　behind　its　veil。

To　this　extent；　and　within　these　limits；　an　author；　methinks；　may　be

autobiographical；　without　violating　either　the　reader's　rights　or

his　own。

　　It　will　be　seen；　likewise；　that　this　Custom…House　sketch　has　a

certain　propriety；　of　a　kind　always　recognised　in　literature；　as

explaining　how　a　large　portion　of　the　following　pages　came　into　my

possession；　and　as　offering　proofs　of　the　authenticity　of　a

narrative　therein　contained。　This；　in　fact…　a　desire　to　put　myself

in　my　true　position　as　editor；　or　very　little　more；　of　the　most　prolix

among　the　tales　that　make　up　my　volume…　this；　and　no　other；　is　my　true

reason　for　assuming　a　personal　relation　with　the　public。　In

accomplishing　the　main　purpose；　it　has　appeared　allowable；　by　a　few

extra　touches；　to　give　a　faint　representation　of　a　mode　of　life　not

heretofore　described；　together　with　some　of　the　characters　that　move

in　it；　among　whom　the　author　happened　to　make　one。



　　In　my　native　town　of　Salem；　at　the　head　of　what；　half　a　century　ago；

in　the　days　of　old　King　Derby；　was　a　bustling　wharf…　but　which　is

now　burdened　with　decayed　wooden　warehouses；　and　exhibits　few　or　no

symptoms　of　commercial　life；　except；　perhaps；　a　bark　or　brig；　half…way

down　its　melancholy　length；　discharging　hides；　or；　nearer　at　hand；　a

Nova　Scotia　schooner；　pitching　out　her　cargo　of　firewood…　at　the

head；　I　say；　of　this　dilapidated　wharf；　which　the　tide　often

overflows；　and　along　which；　at　the　base　and　in　the　rear　of　the　row

of　buildings；　the　track　of　many　languid　years　is　seen　in　a　border　of

unthrifty　grass…　here；　with　a　view　from　its　front　windows　adown　this

not　very　enlivening　prospect；　and　thence　across　the　harbour；　stands

a　spacious　edifice　of　brick。　From　the　loftiest　point　of　its　roof；

during　precisely　three　and　a　half　hours　of　each　forenoon；　floats　or

droops；　in　breeze　or　calm；　the　banner　of　the　republic；　but　with　the

thirteen　stripes　turned　vertically；　instead　of　horizontally；　and

thus　indicating　that　a　civil；　and　not　a　military　post　of　Uncle　Sam's

government　is　here　established。　Its　front　is　ornamented　with　a　portico

of　half…a…dozen　wooden　pillars；　supporting　a　balcony；　beneath　which

a　flight　of　wide　granite　steps　descends　towards　the　street。　Over　the

entrance　hovers　an　enormous　specimen　of　the　American　eagle；　with

outspread　wings；　a　shield　before　her　breast；　and；　if　I　recollect

aright；　a　bunch　of　intermingled　thunderbolts　and　barbed　arrows　in　each

claw。　With　the　customary　infirmity　of　temper　that　characterises　this

unhappy　fowl；　she　appears；　by　the　fierceness　of　her　beak　and　eye；

and　the　general　truculency　of　her　attitude；　to　threaten　mischief　to

the　inoffensive　community；　and　especially　to　warn　all　citizens；

careful　of　their　safety；　against　intruding　on　the　premises　which　she

overshadows　with　her　wings。　Nevertheless；　vixenly　as　she　looks；　many

people　are　seeking；　at　this　very　moment；　to　shelter　themselves　under

the　wing　of　the　federal　eagle；　imagining；　I　presume；　that　her　bosom

has　all　the　softness　and　snugness　of　an　eider…down　pillow。　But　she　has

no　great　tenderness；　even　in　her　best　of　moods；　and；　sooner　or

later…　oftener　soon　than　late…　is　apt　to　fling　off　her　nestlings；　with

a　scratch　of　her　claw；　a　dab　of　her　beak；　or　a　rankling　wound　from　her

barbed　arrows。

　　The　pavement　round　about　the　above…described　edifice…　which　we　may

as　well　name　at　once　as　the　Custom…House　of　the　port…　has　grass　enough

growing　in　its　chinks　to　show　that　it　has　not；　of　late　days；　been　worn

by　any　multitudinous　resort　of　business。　In　some　months　of　the　year；

however；　there　often　chances　a　forenoon　when　affairs　move　onward

with　a　livelier　tread。　Such　occasions　might　remind　the　elderly　citizen

of　that　period　before　the　last　war　with　England；　when　Salem　was　a　port

by　itself；　not　scorned；　as　she　is　now；　by　her　own　merchants　and

ship…owners；　who　permit　her　wharves　to　crumble　to　ruin；　while　their

ventures　go　to　swell；　needlessly　and　imperceptibly；　the　mighty　flood

of　commerce　at　New　York　or　Boston。　On　some　such　morning；　when　three　or

four　vessels　happen　to　have　arrived　at　once…　usually　from　Africa　or

South　America…　or　to　be　on　the　verge　of　their　departure　thitherward；

there　is　a　sound　of　frequent　feet；　passing　briskly　up　and　down　the

granite　steps。　Here；　before　his　own　wife　has　greeted　him；　you　may

greet　the　sea…flushed　shipmaster；　just　in　port；　with　his　vessel's

papers　under　his　arm；　in　a　tarnished　tin　box。　Here；　too；　comes　his

owner；　cheerful　or　sombre；　gracious　or　in　the　sulks；　accordingly　as

his　scheme　of　the　now　accomplished　voyage　has　been　realised　in

merchandise　that　will　readily　be　turned　to　gold；　or　has　buried　him

under　a　bulk　of　incommodities；　such　as　nobody　will　care　to　rid　him　of。

Here；　likewise…　the　germ　of　the　wrinkle