ABSTRACT
There was nothing in Thomas Hardy’s physique or manner of speech to suggest that he was a peasant, though I hope that when I say this, no one will suspect that I think it is a fault in a man that he is of peasant origin. All I am trying to say is that any person who had met Hardy without knowing who he was, would never have imagined that his origin was other than middle-class. He might have been the son of a clergyman, a doctor, or a solicitor. He had some of the peasant’s reticence and reserve, but so have many people who have never been nearer to the soil than a municipal park. Hardy did not wear his heart on his sleeve, but this does not mean that he was heartless, any more than a peasant’s silence denotes that he is surly. He did not unfold himself in a crowd, but he was a very good companion with two or three congenial people. I spent many afternoons alone with him, but I never found him short of conversation. He talked easily and well, and he was not in the least the dour pessimist of legend. He was uncommonly and unobtrusively courteous, eager to hear about the young poets to whom he was particularly attentive. His liking for Siegfried Sassoon amounted to deep affection (pp. 371-2).
