I shall regard the whole period as the beginning of that true
sunset of life, of which I have so often spoken; for if clouds are
still about it, they only serve to enrich what the light of love
(the only heavenly light) makes beautiful.
My friends who know me most intimately say there are two things in my
life that may not be quite normal--my fondness for work, and my liking
for Leigh Hunt. I do not have any apologies to make for either of these
characteristics. My admiration for Hunt and my consequent desire to
acquire Hunt incunabula could not be brought to fruition if I did not
work and earn. The first characteristic noted therefore is the sequence
of the second.
I have not seen fit to apologize for either of these traits--the one a
luxury perhaps, the other a necessity.
Leigh Hunt as a man and as a writer is worth knowing. He not only loved
books, but he made books for others to love. His life at times was
almost a tragedy. There were occasions when he did not have the courage
to leave his house, so lacking was he in possessing enough clothes to
make a decent appearance. At another time he did not have the price of a
loaf of bread, and so went hungry. But he never lost his courage, and
ever was hopeful and sweet tempered.
Shelley quotes a line seen by him on a sun-dial in Italy: "Colto
soltanto le ore serene"--I mark only the bright hours. Hunt and
Stevenson saw in their lives from day to day only the bright hours.
And this is the message that The Brewers would send this Christmas time
to their friends: "Gentleness and cheerfulness are the perfect virtues."
Only the bright hours are the ones we should see.
OF THIS BOOK TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY
COPIES WERE PRINTED IN DECEMBER
NINETEEN HUNDRED AND TWENTY-TWO
BY THE TORCH PRESS CEDAR RAPIDS IOWA
Transcriber's Notes:
Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_.
The misprint "Leight" was corrected to "Leigh" (page 9).