den Legend, and III. The New England Tragedies). The Divine Tragedy, which now formed the first part, was not only in some degree criticised as forming an anti-climax in being placed before the lighter portions of the great drama, but proved unacceptable among his friends, and was often subjected to the charge of being unimpressive and even uninteresting.
On the other hand, we have the fact that it absorbed him more utterly than any other portion of the book.
He writes in his diary on January 6, 1871, The subject of The Divine Tragedy has taken entire possession of me, so that I can think of nothing else.
All day pondering upon and arranging it.
And he adds next day, I find all hospitalities and social gatherings just now great interruptions.
Yet he has to spend one morning that week in Boston at a meeting of stockholders; on another day Agassiz comes, broken down even to tears by the loss of health and strength; on another day there is a continued series of interruptions from b