
                              Nathaniel Hawthorne

                               The Scarlet Letter

                         Preface to the Second Edition

Much to the author's surprise, and (if he may say so without additional offence)
considerably to his amusement, he finds that his sketch of official life,
introductory to THE SCARLET LETTER, has created an unprecedented excitement in
the respectable community immediately around him. It could hardly have been more
violent, indeed, had he burned down the Custom-House, and quenched its last
smoking ember in the blood of a certain venerable personage, against whom he is
supposed to cherish a peculiar malevolence. As the public disapprobation would
weigh very heavily on him, were he conscious of deserving it, the author begs
leave to say, that he has carefully read over the introductory pages, with a
purpose to alter or expunge whatever might be found amiss, and to make the best
reparation in his power for the atrocities of which he has been adjudged guilty.
But it appears to him, that the only remarkable features of the sketch are its
frank and genuine good-humor, and the general accuracy with which he has
conveyed his sincere impressions of the characters therein described. As to
enmity, or ill-feeling of any kind, personal or political, he utterly disclaims
such motives. The sketch might, perhaps, have been wholly omitted, without loss
to the public, or detriment to the book; but, having undertaken to write it, he
conceives that it could not have been done in a better or a kindlier spirit,
nor, so far as his abilities availed, with a livelier effect of truth.
    The author is constrained, therefore, to republish his introductory sketch
without the change of a word.
    
    SALEM, March 30, 1850.
 

                                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 favored 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
