The Arousing of Thought
Professional writers usually begin such introductions with an address to the reader, full of all kinds of bombastically magniloquent and so to say “honeyed” and “inflated” phrases.
Just in this alone I shall follow their example and also begin with such an address, but I shall try not to make it very “sugary” as they usually do, owing particularly to their evil wiseacring by which they titillate the sensibilities of the more or less normal reader.
Thus . . .
My dear, highly honored, strong-willed and of course very patient Sirs, and my much-esteemed, charming, and impartial Ladies—forgive me, I have omitted the most important—and my in no wise hysterical Ladies!
I have the honor to inform you that although owing to circumstances that have arisen at one of the last stages of the process of my life, I am now about to write books, yet during the whole of my life I have never written not only not books or various what are called “instructive-articles,” but also not even a letter in which it has been unfailingly necessary to observe what is called “grammaticality,” and in consequence, although I am now about to become a professional writer, yet having had no practice at all either in respect of all the established professional rules and procedures or in respect of what is called the “bon ton literary language,” I am constrained to write not at all as ordinary “patented-writers” do, to the form of whose writing you have in all probability become as much accustomed as to your own smell.
In my opinion the trouble with you, in the present instance, is perhaps chiefly due to the fact that while still in childhood, there was implanted in you and has now become ideally well harmonized with your general psyche, an excellently working automatism for perceiving all kinds new impressions, thanks to which “blessing” you have now, during your responsible life, no need of making any individual effort whatsoever.