Now you see the purpose of this Epistle Dedicatory.

Far Off Things was compiled from autobiographical articles that Machen. “This author,” said the Doctor, “when mankind are hunting him with a canister at his tail can say, ‘I would not have published, had not Johnson, or Reynolds, or Musgrave, or some other good judge commended the work!'” This is the first portion of Machens autobiography. Now, you remember Johnson on advising an author to print his book. And what I want to impress on you is this: that if there is to be trouble, “you are going to have your share of it.” You ordered the book to be written, you printed it in your paper, you have urged me to reprint it, not once or twice, but again and again. My complacent views as to “Far Off Things” may not be shared by other and, possibly, more competent judges. But there is one little point that I do not mean to neglect. I enjoyed writing the book enormously and, I frankly confess, I enjoy reading it. Reviews aren't verified, but Google checks for and removes fake content when it's identified. Gutenberg text multiple formats at Info Machen, Arthur, 1863-1947. The Bowmen - And Other Short Stories by Arthur Machen (Fantasy and Horror Classics). The book was written, appeared in the paper as “The Confessions of a Literary Man,” and now reappears as “Far Off Things.” Machen, Arthur, 1863-1947: Far Off Things (London: Martin Secker, 1922). I had not spoken of the projected book to you or anyone else but one fine morning in 1915 you ordered me to write it! You were then, you will remember, editing the London Evening News, and as a reporter on your staff I had nothing to do but to obey. I gathered anew for that little while the savour of the autumnal wood beside which the boy of thirty years before was walking, and also the savour of his long. Some day would undoubtedly have been Never if it had not been for you. Excerpt from Far Off Things So, in an instant's time, I journeyed from the lighted room in the big Oxford Street restaurant to the darkening lane in far-away Gwent, in far away years. I made up my mind that I would write about it all-some day. And so I got into the way of looking back, of recalling the far gone times and suns of the ‘seventies and early ‘eighties when the scene of my life was being set. The thought of it came to me with that other thought that I was growing-rather, grown-old that the curtain had definitely been rung down on all the days of my youth. This is a book, my dear Turner, which I had in my heart to write for many years.

Far off things arthur machen