The Custom-House: Introductory

The author explains his rare impulse to address the public personally, seeking a connection with a few sympathetic readers.

The author describes the decaying Salem wharf and the imposing, vixen-like American eagle on the Custom-House facade.

The author contrasts the rare, bustling days of commerce with the more typical scene of old, dozing Custom-House officers.

The author describes his former office, revealing that he was the Surveyor before the "besom of reform" swept him out.

The author describes his ambivalent affection for his native Salem, a feeling rooted in his family's deep history there.

The author reflects on his stern Puritan ancestors, their persecuting spirit, and his own sense of inherited shame.

The author describes his family's long, instinctual connection to Salem, a bond he feels destined to sever for his children.

The author recounts his arrival at the Custom-House and describes the patriarchal, aged group of officers under his command.

As a Democrat, the author amusedly recalls the terror his arrival inspired in the old Whig officers he supervised.

The author describes the officers' incompetence, his growing paternal affection for them, and their general lack of practical wisdom.

The author introduces the permanent Inspector, a vigorous eighty-year-old man of perfect animal nature and little intellect or soul.

The author concludes that the Inspector had no soul but only instincts, finding a strange contentment in this perfect shallowness.

The author sketches a portrait of the Collector, a venerable and infirm old General whose inner light still gleamed.

The author discerns the General's core qualities of firmness, integrity, and benevolence, imagining the warrior still slumbering within.

The author notes the General's lingering grace and humor, describing him as a remote, quiet presence in the bustling office.

The author recalls the General's famous words and describes another colleague, a man perfectly and naturally suited to business.

The author reflects that his time in the Custom-House was a necessary change from his former life among transcendentalists.

The author found he was a good Surveyor but that his literary fame meant nothing to his colleagues.

The author describes finding a trove of old, forgotten official documents in an unfinished room in the Custom-House.

The author finds a parchment package containing the commission and private papers of a predecessor, Surveyor Jonathan Pue.

Among the papers, the author finds a mysterious, beautifully embroidered scarlet letter "A" that seems to burn when placed on his chest.

A roll of paper explains the scarlet letter and tells the story of Hester Prynne, providing the authentic outline for the tale.

The author imagines being visited by the ghost of Surveyor Pue, who exhorts him to write Hester Prynne's story.

The author finds that the atmosphere of the Custom-House has tarnished his imagination, making it impossible to write the story.

The author's creative torpor persists even at home, though he reflects on how moonlight can create a perfect imaginative space.

Despite the ideal setting of moonlight and firelight, the author's creative faculties remained dormant during his Custom-House years.

The author concludes that public office causes one's intellect to dwindle and one's own strength to depart.