Apology
He simply sat down and wrote. Other things which he did are unimportant, except in so far as they affected his writings. As far as his masterpiece, The Dynasts, is concerned, for instance, it is far more important to realize what Æschylus wrote in the Sixth Century B. C. than it is to know whether Hardy dipped his pen in black ink or lavender ink. Still, I admit that if I had discovered him writing, let us say, with a quill on pink paper, I would have retailed the observation here with great unction.
To read any author without prejudice is impossible, even for the dispassionately scientific literary chemists in the graduate schools of our universities. I have therefore not hesitated to exhibit mine. I have already shown my strong preference for Hardy’s poetry. Other examples of bias will be noticed. Many readers will disagree with me here and there. But to anticipate such disagreements would be to emasculate a largely personal record, such as this.
E. B.
New York, December, 1924
[viii]
