I met Isaiah Berlin once before. I doubt he remembers it – there is no reason why he should – but I wish to record the incident because I think it says something not only about his scholarship but especially about his humanity. I was here on a sabbatical term in 1971; I was an absolute assistant professor, nobody at the time. […] One day, on one of my weekly or monthly trips to London, I got on the train […] and into the same compartment walked Isaiah Berlin, whom I knew as a legend in the history of ideas, and we started talking. I think it was the most wonderful hour I ever passed during that year here. He was on his way to a meeting in Covent Garden – the Board of Directors, if I remember correctly. And I was just enchanted – I think the conversation was mostly opera but it ranged very widely – not only by his erudition and the interest of everything he had to say, but by the fact that he was obviously taking me seriously and listening and having a real conversation. I was so touched by it.

About a week later I was just about to leave – it was the end of the year – and I received a postcard. I didn't even know you’d recorded my address or how to get in touch with me. It was so sweet. It just invited me to come up and have lunch and I remember you said you’d be very sorry if I’d left without our meeting again. As it happened – I think I was leaving two days later – we never did have that meeting. I just wanted to say that I thought that was such an enormous act of kindness towards someone who was an absolute nobody, and I’ve always appreciated it, I’ve never forgotten it.