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the　Acts　of　Congress；　and　a　bulky　Digest　of　the　Revenue　Laws。　A　tin

pipe　ascends　through　the　ceiling；　and　forms　a　medium　of　vocal

communication　with　other　parts　of　the　edifice。　And　here；　some　six

months　ago…　pacing　from　corner　to　corner；　or　lounging　on　the

long…legged　stool；　with　his　elbow　on　the　desk；　and　his　eyes

wandering　up　and　down　the　columns　of　the　morning　newspaper…　you

might　have　recognised；　honoured　reader；　the　same　individual　who

welcomed　you　into　his　cheery　little　study；　where　the　sunshine

glimmered　so　pleasantly　through　the　willow　branches；　on　the　western

side　of　the　Old　Manse。　But　now；　should　you　go　thither　to　seek　him；　you

would　inquire　in　vain　for　the　Locofoco　Surveyor。　The　besom　of　reform

has　swept　him　out　of　office；　and　a　worthier　successor　wears　his

dignity；　and　pockets　his　emoluments。

　　This　old　town　of　Salem…　my　native　place；　though　I　have　dwelt　much

away　from　it；　both　in　boyhood　and　maturer　years…　possesses；　or　did

possess；　a　hold　on　my　affections；　the　force　of　which　I　have　never

realised　during　my　seasons　of　actual　residence　here。　Indeed；　so　far　as

its　physical　aspect　is　concerned；　with　its　flat；　unvaried　surface；

covered　chiefly　with　wooden　houses；　few　or　none　of　which　pretend　to

architectural　beauty…　its　irregularity；　which　is　neither　picturesque

nor　quaint；　but　only　tame…　its　long　and　lazy　street；　lounging

wearisomely　through　the　whole　extent　of　the　peninsula；　with　Gallows

Hill　and　New　Guinea　at　one　end；　and　a　view　of　the　alms…house　at　the

other…　such　being　the　features　of　my　native　town；　it　would　be　quite　as

reasonable　to　form　a　sentimental　attachment　to　a　disarranged

checker…board。　And　yet；　though　invariably　happiest　elsewhere；　there　is

within　me　a　feeling　for　old　Salem；　which；　in　lack　of　a　better

phrase；　I　must　be　content　to　call　affection。　The　sentiment　is　probably

assignable　to　the　deep　and　aged　roots　which　my　family　has　struck

into　the　soil。　It　is　now　nearly　two　centuries　and　a　quarter　since

the　original　Briton；　the　earliest　emigrant　of　my　name；　made　his

appearance　in　the　wild　and　forest…bordered　settlement；　which　has　since

become　a　city。　And　here　his　descendants　have　been　born　and　died；　and

have　mingled　their　earthy　substance　with　the　soil；　until　no　small

portion　of　it　must　necessarily　be　akin　to　the　mortal　frame

wherewith；　for　a　little　while；　I　walk　the　streets。　In　part；　therefore；

the　attachment　which　I　speak　of　is　the　mere　sensuous　sympathy　of

dust　for　dust。　Few　of　my　countrymen　can　know　what　it　is；　nor；　as

frequent　transplantation　is　perhaps　better　for　the　stock；　need　they

consider　it　desirable　to　know。

　　But　the　sentiment　has　likewise　its　moral　quality。　The　figure　of　that

first　ancestor；　invested　by　family　tradition　with　a　dim　and　dusky

grandeur；　was　present　to　my　boyish　imagination；　as　far　back　as　I　can

remember。　It　still　haunts　me；　and　induces　a　sort　of　home…feeling

with　the　past；　which　I　scarcely　claim　in　reference　to　the　present

phase　of　the　town。　I　seem　to　have　a　stronger　claim　to　a　residence　here

on　account　of　this　grave；　bearded；　sable…cloaked　and　steeple…crowned

progenitor…　who　came　so　early；　with　his　Bible　and　his　sword；　and

trod　the　unworn　street　with　such　a　stately　port；　and　made　so　large　a

figure；　as　a　man　of　war　and　peace…　a　stronger　claim　than　for　myself；

whose　name　is　seldom　heard　and　my　face　hardly　known。　He　was　a　soldier；

legislator；　judge；　he　was　a　ruler　in　the　Church；　he　had　all　the

Puritanic　traits；　both　good　and　evil。　He　was　likewise　a　bitter

persecutor；　as　witness　the　Quakers；　who　have　remembered　him　in　their

histories；　and　relate　an　incident　of　his　hard　severity　towards　a　woman

of　their　sect；　which　will　last　longer；　it　is　to　be　feared；　than　any

record　of　his　better　deeds；　although　these　were　many。　His　son；　too；

inherited　the　persecuting　spirit；　and　made　himself　so　conspicuous　in

the　martyrdom　of　the　witches；　that　their　blood　may　fairly　be　said　to

have　left　a　stain　upon　him。　So　deep　a　stain；　indeed；　that　his　old

dry　bones；　in　the　Charter　Street　burial…ground；　must　still　retain

it；　if　they　have　not　crumbled　utterly　to　dust！　I　know　not　whether

these　ancestors　of　mine　bethought　themselves　to　repent；　and　ask　pardon

of　Heaven；　for　their　cruelties；　or　whether　they　are　now　groaning　under

the　heavy　consequences　of　them；　in　another　state　of　being。　At　all

events；　I；　the　present　writer；　as　their　representative；　hereby　take

shame　upon　myself　for　their　sakes；　and　pray　that　any　curse　incurred　by

them…　as　I　have　heard；　and　as　the　dreary　and　unprosperous　condition　of

the　race；　for　many　a　long　year　back；　would　argue　to　exist…　may　be

now　and　henceforth　removed。

　　Doubtless；　however；　either　of　these　stern　and　black…browed

Puritans　would　have　thought　it　quite　a　sufficient　retribution　for

his　sins；　that；　after　so　long　a　lapse　of　years；　the　old　trunk　of　the

family　tree；　with　so　much　venerable　moss　upon　it；　should　have　borne；

as　its　topmost　bough；　an　idler　like　myself。　No　aim；　that　I　have　ever

cherished；　would　they　recognise　as　laudable；　no　success　of　mine…　if

my　life；　beyond　its　domestic　scope；　had　ever　been　brightened　by

success…　would　they　deem　otherwise　than　worthless；　if　not　positively

disgraceful。　〃Where　is　he？〃　murmurs　one　grey　shadow　of　my

forefathers　to　the　other。　〃A　writer　of　story…books！　What　kind　of　a

business　in　life…　what　mode　of　glorifying　God；　or　being　serviceable　to

mankind　in　his　day　and　generation…　may　that　be？　Why；　the　degenerate

fellow　might　as　well　have　been　a　fiddler！〃　Such　are　the　compliments

bandied　between　my　great…grandsires　and　myself；　across　the　gulf　of

time！　And　yet；　let　them　scorn　me　as　they　will；　strong　traits　of

their　nature　have　intertwined　themselves　with　mine。

　　Planted　deep；　in　the　town's　earliest　infancy　and　childhood；　by　these

two　earnest　and　energetic　men；　the　race　has　ever　since　subsisted　here；

always；　too；　in　respectability；　never；　so　far　as　I　have　known；

disgraced　by　a　single　unworthy　member；　but　seldom　or　never；　on　the

other　hand；　after　the　first　two　generations；　performing　any

memorable　deed；　or　so　much　as　putting　forward　a　claim　to　public

notice。　Gradually；　they　have　sunk　almost　out　of　sight；　as　old

houses；　here　and　there　about　the　streets；　get　covered　half…way　to

the　eaves　by　the　accumulation　of　new　soil。　From　father　to　son；　for

above　a　hundred　years；　they　followed　the　sea；　a　grey…headed

shipmaster；　in　each　generation；　retiring　from　the　quarter…deck　to

the　homestead；　while　a　boy　of　fourteen　took　the　hereditary　place

before　the　mast；　confronting　the　salt　spray　and　the　gale；　which　had

blustered　against　his　sire　and　grandsire。　The　boy；　also；　in　due

time；　passed　from　the　forecastle　to　the　cabin；　spent　a　tempestuous

manhood；　and　returned　from　his　world…wanderings；　to　grow　old；　and　die；

and　mingle　his　dust　with　the　natal　earth。　This　long　connection　of　a

family　with　one　spot；　as　its　place　of　birth　and　burial；　creates　a

kindred　between　the　human　being　and　the　locality；　quite　independent　of

any　charm　in　the　scenery　or　moral　circumstances　that　surround　him。

It　is　not　love；　but　instinct。　The　new　inhabitant…　who　came　himself

from　a　foreign　land；　or　whose　father　or　grandfather　came…　has　little

claim　to　be　called　a　Salemite；　he　has　no　conception　of　the　oyster…like

tenacity　with　which　an　old　settler；　over　whom　his　third　century　is

creeping；　clings　to　the　spot　where　his　successive　generations　have

been　imbedded。　It　is　no　matter　that　the　place　is　joyless　for　him；　that

he　is　weary　of　the　old　wooden　houses；　the　mud　and　dust；　the　dead　level

of　site　and　sentiment；　the　chill　east　wind；　and　the　chillest　of　social

atmospheres；　all　these；　and　whatever　faults　besides　he　may　see　or

imagine；　are　nothing　to　the　purpose。　The　spell　survives；　and　just　as

powerfully　as　if　the　natal　spot　were　an　earthly　paradise。　So　has　it

been　in　my　case。　I　felt　it　almost　as　a　destiny　to　make　Salem　my

home；　so　that　the　mould　of　features　and　cast　of　character　which　had

all　along　been　familiar　here…　ever；　as　one　representative　of　the

race　lay　down　in　his　grave；　another　assuming；　as　it　were；　his

sentry…march　along　the　main　street…　might　still　in　my　little　day　be

seen　and　recognised　in　the　old　town。　Nevertheless；　this　very　sentiment

is　an　evidence　that　the　connection；　which　has　become　an　unhealthy　one；

should　at　least　be　severed。　Human　nature　will　not　flourish；　any　more

than　a　potato；　if　it　be　planted　and　replanted；　for　too　long　a　series

of　generations；　in　the　same　worn…out　soil。　My　children　have　had

other　birthplaces；　and；　so　far　as　their　fortunes　may　be　within　my

control；　shall　strike　their　roots　into　unaccustomed　earth。

　　On　emerging　from　the　Old　Manse；　it　was　chiefly　this　strange；

indolent；　unjoyous　attachment　for　my　native　town；　that　brought　me　to

fill　a　place　in　Uncle　Sam's　brick　edifice；　when　I　might　as　well；　or

better；　have　gone　somewhere　else。　My　doom　was　on　me。　It　was　not　the

first　time；　nor　the　second；　that　I　had　gone　away…　as　it　seemed；

permanently…　but　yet　returned；　like　the　bad　halfpenny；　or　as　if

Salem　were　for　me　the　inevitable　centre　of　the　universe。　So；　one

fine　morning；　I　ascended　the　flight　of　granite　steps；　with　the

President's　commission　in　my　pocket；　and　was　introduced　to　the　corps

of　gentlemen　who　were　to　aid　me　in　my　weighty　responsibility；　as　chief

executive　officer　of　the　Custom…House。

　　I　doubt　greatly…　or；　rather；　I　do　not　doubt　at　all…　whether　any

public　functionary　of　the　United　States；　either　in　the　civil　or

military　line；　has　ever　had　such　a　patriarchal　body　of　veterans

under　his　orders　as　myself。　The　whereabouts　of　the　Oldest　Inhabitant

was　at　once　settled；　when　I　looked　at　them。　For　upwards　of　twenty

years　before　this　epoch；　the　independent　position　of　the　Collector　had

kept　the　Salem　Custom…House　out　of　the　whirlpool　of　political

vicissitude；　which　makes　the　tenure　of　office　generally　so　fragile。

A　soldier…　New　England's　most　distinguished　soldier…　he　stood　firmly

on　the　pedestal　of　his　gallant　services；　and；　himself　secure　in　the

wis