Feinberg/Whitman Box 6 Folder 4 General Correspondence Bucke, Richard M. Letters to Bucke (DCN 212) Jan. - July 1889 Includes verso letter from Ellen O'Connor, undatedCamden pm Jan. 1 '89 Superb sunny day again & I am feeling all as right as could be expected -- still on mutton broth with toast & plenty of rice & a few mouthfuls of the stew'd mutton. As I told you, bowel action fair -- A little of what I call cold in the head, but slight so far -- Dr Walsh here last evn'g -- he himself quite unwell -- no Osler now for a fortnight -- I enclose Mrs: O'C's card rec'd this mn'g -- Ed: Stafford has been here -- they are all well as usual & every thing goes on the same as of old -- -- So we have commenced on another year -- & where it will take us, & how, are indeed mercifully hidden -- for the pique of weaving & watching (with a gambler's uncertainty) makes the background & basis of the whole business -- I have been reading "Goethe's & Carlyle's Correspondence". wh' I find interesting -- presents C in a different light from any other -- Walt WhitmanCamden noon Jan: 2 '89 Every thing keeps on with even way. A slight head ache, or muddled condition. Y'r "impromptu criticism" letter 'corrected' has been furnished me by the printer after all, & I will send you 15 copies -- The cards in the little envelope are my dear friend Mrs: Harned & the new baby boy's, Herbert Spencer H -- both are flourishing tip-top. Tom H. comes every day -- my brother, George also -- my sister, Lou has just visited me this mn'g -- y'r letter came this mn'g -- The Boston Trans: (Kennedy) has a ¶ (Dec: 29) merely narrating that the big Vol. is printed & out -- I have taken up & find myself curious enough, perhaps interested, to probably go thro', Tolstoi's "Confessions" -- a strange product of our time, from Russia there -- it is natural certainly, but morbific -- a sort of Jack the Ripper treatment applied to himself -- it is autobiographic of course -- pathologic -- 2:45 pm It grows cloudy & cooler -- have had my ice cream & milk -- your good letter of Dec: 31 comes -- yes "hurrah for 89!" -- letter rec'd from J H Johnston -- his new store Christmas sales reach'd $45000 -- I have just scribbled a little 10-line poemet I think I'll send to Century -- Am sitting here alone by the wood fire -- Walt WhitmanUNITED STATES POSTAL CARD. ONE CENT NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE CAMDEN, N.J. JAN 7 8 PM 89 Dr R M Bucke Asylum London Ontario CanadaCamden pm Jan: 7 '89 Every thing much the same -- yr's of 4th rec'd -- dark lowering weather -- -- no Dr Walsh now four days (Is it a good sign?) -- Any thing like strength is very very slowly coming to me -- -- but I fall back thankfully on being not such in a wretched way as three or four weeks ago -- Ed W. is well (but has disagreeable spells of heart burn) Walt WhitmanUNITED STATES POSTAL CARD. ONE CENT NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE. CAMDEN, N.J. JAN 3. 8 PM 89 2 Dr R M Bucke Asylum London Ontario CanadaCamden pm Jan: 3 '89 Yr's of 1st comes -- day fine -- feeling fairly continued -- sit here by the stove as I write -- slightly sweating -- send copies of the corrected letter by this mail -- -- Have written (perhaps I told you) another poemet & send it off to-night or to morrow to the 'Century' -- (shall send you a printed copy, & of the first one also) -- It is near sunset as I close & all moves fairly Walt WhitmanCamden Saturday forenoon Jan: 5 '89 Fair yesterday -- a little dull & tedious cribb'd up here so long, but got along - quite decided bowel action in the forenoon, & a good thorough hot-water bath (tub) in the afternoon - my diet continues the same, mutton broth (plenty of rice in it,) dry toast, and a cup of milk (or two, during the day) with some ice cream (wh' tastes good & welcome) ab't 1 1/2 pm I fancy I am growing very, very slowly, to have more strength - but sit here pretty much the same - (I thoroughly believe in your diagnosis in letter of 24th) = - This morning comes the Boston Herald of Jan: 3d with a splendid nearly two-column criticism & setting forth of the big book, from Sylvester Baxter - wh' I think even you will applaud & be satisfied with - I will send the paper, but first wish to know if you have rec'd one from SB himself - (as I find I send sometimes what you have before) - To-day opens dark & wet & lowering enough - no severe cold yet - I still have signs of my "cold in the head" (not violent) yet - - a letter from Kennedy - affectionate & devoted - sit here in the big chair three quarters idling - no emphasized physical uncomfortableness Sunday Jan 6 -- Lowering weather continued. A nice 20 minutes' call from Johnston the jeweler & Dick Hinton - also f'm Tom Harned - am ab't the same - comfortable enough - as I sit Ed is making up the bed - & I am just going out to the wash-room - got in a cord of cut oak wood yesterday (ready therefore for a cold spell) - bowel action - Horace has just call'd - good luck to the meter - Walt WhitmanCamden Jan: 8 '89 Perfect weather here continued - I feel comparatively easier & freer also continued - sat for 40 minutes in the sun ab't 1. (in the back room, open window - Ed fixed it for me) - am still extremely weak - legs give out - - Dave McKay has been over here - pays me for 950 "Nov: Boughs" $313.50 - and we try to fix on some style -- (calf or more likely half-calf) - for the better binding of the big book - he & Horace & the binder (a Swiss, an expert journeyman) who made the present one - are commissioned by me to get up a good strong handsome cover &c & submit to me, soon - as purchasers are nibbling at Dave for it already - Boston & elsewhere - (but I shall not sell any for less than $6, even at present style) - have not rec'd any copies yet of Boston Herald Jan. 3 but expect some - (or perhaps one will be sent you f'm Boston -- If no other way, I shall send you my copy) - the big book grows on me & satisfies me better (y'r "impromptu criticism" has been a 10-strike to me) Jan: 9 noon - All well - the weather-scene has changed completely - not cold, but dark & rainy & glum - Ed has been down to the bank to deposit my checks - I am now sitting here alone by the stove. - partial bowel action this forenoon - the room here is ab't the same in almost every respect chair, bed, &c &c - - they say I have not fallen away in flesh, (ab't face &c) since my sick spell - my best strength is in my right arm, hand & side - I can get out of bed quite well now wh' I couldn't do (hardly at all) five weeks ago - no Dr Walsh for four or five days - God bless you & all - Walt WhitmanCamden '89 Jan: 11 pm -- Nothing special to-day -- weather fine, sunny, -- no doctor visiting -- note f'm Century (Gilder) accepting my little poems & paying -- Yes I shall send it you when out -- yr's of 9th welcom'd -- I show'd it to Ed -- he is down splitting wood in his short sleeves, -- Evening -- I have pick'd up & been reading again Addington Symonds's "Greek Poets" -- always fertile & interesting to me -- The Boston Herald Jan: 3 has come, & I send it to you -- Horace has been here -- the three met at the binder's, & I am to have as designed by them a specimen of the good cover, &c. ready for my judgment [can] this ensuing week -- we will see -- Jan: 12 -- noon -- Fine sunny day -- Dr McAlister here (Walsh unwell) -- good pleasant -- young -- -- Am sitting here in the monotonous same way by the fire in the big chair -- yours of 10th comes in the midday mail -- a letter also from Hamlin Garland, Mass -- I still read the "Greek Poets" -- S's attempt to explicate the "Prometheus" play puzzle (essentially insoluble, as probably all first class puzzles are) is one of the finest bits of writing & argument I know -- (I take a whack at it severial times) -- Sunday Jan: 13 Another fine sunny day -- just right -- -- continue well considering -- my breakfast mutton-broth & toast -- now sitting in the big chair with the wolf skin spread on the back of it & the woolen foot-cloth in front on the floor, with a lap-spread on my knees -- reading the Sunday papers, &c -- seems to me the sun & day never poured down so copiously & brightly -- Love to you & all -- Walt Whitman25, 1888 not exist to patronize those who are conspiring against its existence. THE TWILIGHT OF THE POETS. From the Providence Journal. The closing years of the century seem destined to be marked by a decline of the poetic spirit. The greatest of those who have made the century illustrious have, if we may use the phraseology of the Norse mythology, sought the plains of Ulfilheim, Heda's gloomy realm, where dwell the dead. Of those still reigning in the poetic Valhalla, little more can be expected from Tennyson, Browning, Whittier or Lowell. Twilight, like that fabled to have overtaken the Scandinavian deities, seems to have fallen upon the poetic race. Among the younger poets we have many who are exquisite masters of form, but it is already clear that in the closing years of this century we are not to hear any such voices as those of Goethe, Schiller and Burns, who were the literary fathers of the poets of this century, and marked out the lines which they have followed. The explanation of this is perhaps not difficult to find. Every previous period of great literary activity has been followed by one of comparative decline. With the close of the Augustan age, which produced such poets as Virgil, Horace and Ovid, Roman literature passed into a decline which proved the forerunner of its death. Few recall the names of the successors of Dante, Petrarch and Tasso in Italian literature. Shakespeare and Milton were followed by a nameless crowd, and it is, perhaps, natural that Goethe, Wordsworth and Browning should be followed by Swinburne, Austin Dobson and Andrew Lang. Moreover, this is a practical and materialistic age, in which the genius of the human race is given up to the pursuits of commerce, to invention and discovery, to great achievements, to the consolidation of empires and the subjugation of barbarous nations in Asia and Africa, to the study of the sciences and the solution of social problems. It is not strange, therefore, that there should be a decline in the arts of poetry, music, painting, sculpture and architecture. There is not to be discerned in the public taste any special demand for the work of masters in these arts. This is the age of novels and magazine literature, of Gilbert and Sullivan operas. of iron architecture and the growth of cities. A great poet would be born out of due time in such an era. While we are not reading our Skakespeare, Milton or Wordsworth, when we are stoning our Carlyle and Ruskin, and rapidly forgetting the best lessons or our Emerson, we are not likely to have any ear for another Homer or Dante. We cannot plead, however, that there is a lack of great themes for the inspiration of the poets. The discovery and settlement of America is a thousand-fold nobler topic than the flight of AEneas from burning Troy, and his sufferings while bringing his gods to Latium and founding the Roman state. Modern history is supplying rich material, which some future Shakespeare will doubtless use to rival the fame of the Bard of Avon. Philanthropy and Christian activity are perhaps also supplying materials which some greater Milton may hereafter use in majestic relation of a "Paradise Regained" by the lower classes of mankind. Human life is never devoid of poetic elements, but for the present we are thinking about things we call practical, and have entered a period of twilight of the poets, about which the only prophecy that need be made is that it will not last. MR. CLEVELAND IN THE FUTUTHE BOSTO nearly a year ago, and has been laid up ever since. POOR JACK REMEMBERED. How Christmas Eve Was Celebrated at the Seamen's Chapel. The Seamen's Chapel, No. 175 Hanover street, was the scene of a most enjoyable occasion last evening. In that place were gathered 260 weatherbeaten sailors who, in response to the invitation of the chaplain, Capt. S.S. Nickerson, had assembled to celebrate Christmas Eve. On the stage was an enormous full-rigged ship, from whose yardarms and rigging hung presents, mostly of a useful nature, and every invited guest was remembered. The ship was commanded by Capt. Nickerson, who received thanks in about every known language as he dealt out the gifts. Of the crowd assembled there was not one who had a home within 50 miles of Boston, and nine-tenths of them belonged across the ocean. All of them were sober and tidily dressed, and made as well behaved an audience as one would be apt to met anywhere. At 7 bells all hands were piped to a bountiful collation, which was evidently appreciated by the participants. The Sunday school, which numbers some 67 members, was in attendance, and assisted in serving out the viands to the hungry tars. The funds for the provision of this entertainment were raised through concerts given by the scholars. Capt. Nickerson has during the short time of service here done a vast amount of good for the mariners who are strangers in this port, and from a start a few years ago of some score of attendants at his meetings he has so increased his influence for good that last Sunday evening over 200 sailors attended his prayer meeting. Like all other works of a similar nature, it requires funds to carry it on, and those who have money to bestow for the moral aid of their fellow-men could not do better than to share it with this deserving enterprise. FESTIVALS AT DEDHAM. Rev. A. M. Bockus, rector of St. Paul's Church at Dedham, last evening appeared before a large congregation of the children of the parish, who were accompanied by parents and friends, welcoming them to the yearly Christmas festival. After a prayer by the rector, supplemented by a choral service by the little ones, the party repaired to the chapel opposite, where an extended service in song and recitation was held, after which a curtain was withdrawn, exposing a large Christmas tree bountifully hung with useful and beautiful presents. The occasion was one of the happiest held in Dedham for a long time. The annual Christmas gathering of the Unitarian Sunday school was a happy affair, a large number of the alumni and present scholars of Dedham being assembled. Recitations, well received, were rendered, and singing and dancing to a late hour were indulged in. The presents, numerous and costly, were presented to the members of the Sunday school at the close of the entertainment. The Sunday schools connected with the Baptist, Methodist Episcopal and Episcopal churches, in the eastern section, will hold children's Christmas services this evening. TODAY AT SHERBORN Christmas will be observed at the SherbornCamden early pm Jan : 15 '89 Nothing different -- Fine sunny weather -- Am sitting here by the oak-fire -- Ed has gone over to Donaldson's with a copy of the big book I have sent him -- quite alone no visitors to-day -- no doctors -- --Send you enclosed old letters -- (may be uninteresting -- if so throw 'em in the fire) -- --I suppose you have rec'd the Boston Herald with Baxter's notice -- I am waiting to hear from the German translation (I fancy now out) -- shall tell you soon as I hear -- O that I could get out & back in this copious sunshine of to-day -- Walt WhitmanCamden Jan: 17 '89 Yr's rec'd this morning -- letters rom Rhys also -- --Kennedy has sent me a letter he receives from F. W Wilson, Glasgow, to hurry up the copy for the book "W W the Poet of Humanity" -- as he, Wilson, is ready (& even in a hurry) to publish it -- I have heard from Karl Knortz NY, that he sent word to a German scholar friend at Zurich, Switzerland, to look after the proofs of the translation book (printed there by J Schabelitz, pubr) -- I have not heard from Rolleston, since he sent me word that he had read the first proofs from Zurich -- have rec'd a Springfield Republican with a long criticism of "Whittier, Whitman & Emma Lazarus" evidently by Frank Sanborn -- wh' I will send you in a day or two -- I am fairly -- sitting here alone as usual -- -- dark, rainy, glum to-day, not at all cold -- it is near noon -- Mrs. Davis has been in for five minutes -- I hear Ed down stairs somewhere practising on his fiddle -- -- no doctor now this week yet -- Tom Harned & Horace here last evn'g -- pm So the day whiles on -- no visitors -- pass the hours I know not how, yet evenly, & sort o' comfortably. Have rec'd a notice [of] in San Francisco Bulletin wh' I will forward you -- Have you rec'd two German papers with something in? -- Still cloudy, lowering, rainy -- near sunset. Walt WhitmanCamden early pm Jan: 19 '89 I suppose you got the Springfield Rep'n with Sanborn's criticism -- the San Franc: Bulletin with notice -- & Poet-lore, the new magazine -- -- a fine sunny day here -- somewhat cooler -- -- much the same with me as of late, but I am getting fearfully staled with this long, long confinement -- do not get any physical strength or improved ability -- not a bit -- The Critic (Jan: 19) comes -- has a notice of Nov: Boughs perhaps the most eulogistic & sweeping yet -- I [will] send it to you -- I am alone -- stir up the fire & put in some wood -- as it grows colder -- have my nice lunch of ice cream & a cup of milk Sunday, Jan 20 -- Cloudy & looks & feels like snow -- The good bound big Vol. is not made by the binder yet -- & goes over to the ensuing week. -- I shall have one for you (I make no great calculations on satisfaction) -- Send you enclosed Edward Carpenter's last -- no word from O'Conner. Horace rec'd a few words from John Burroughs. -- He is still at his place West Park on the Hudson -- seems to be so-so in health & working &c -- -- I dig away at Symond's Greek Poets -- very instructive & competent -- his dissertations on the great poets I dwell on and again -- he takes a stand on the modern & then makes a world-criticism & dissection of them -- very true & acceptable & convincing to me -- Ed is off for a two hours or more excursion on foot -- I sit here by the stove -- very quiet to-day -- Do you get "Harper's Monthly"? Look in Feb: number at Howell's Editor's Study -- at a guess -- God bless you all -- Walt WhitmanSend this letter, with all enclosures, to Dr Bucke -- also the French magazine Camden Jan: 22 '89 Still keep up & read & write ab't the same - but remain cribb'd in my room. Situation much the same & am ceasing to count for anything seriously better --(only hug myself on the tho't it might be & has been much worse)-- Sunny to day, & markedly cold - I have a good wood fire -- I send enclosed quite a budget of letters wh' explain themselves -- I also send the French Nouvelle Revue of May last -- I shall send you & Dr B copies of the German book soon as I get them -- Have rec'd Wilson's (publisher's) letter - I shouldn't wonder if he has been a little frighten'd by Alex: Gardner of Paisley, who had a small ed'n of Nov: Boughs (I hear we have quite a clientage in Scotland) - I have sent the Complete Works Vol. to Rolleston by mail - McKay has rec'd several orders, & is waiting for the better binding -- I guess the NB has done & is doing fairly publisherially - have just had a short visit from two young deaf mutes f'm Washington D C - Am feeling comfortable - I will keep you posted, & you must me - Best love & prayers Walt WhitmanCamden early pm Jan: 23 '89 Sunny fine Day - have had a good bath - sent a letter with enclosures & French Nouvelle Revue (of May last, with long review), via Kennedy, to you - will probably come nearly as soon as this - also with this, a paper and facsimile I forget whether I gave you at the time - (All will do no harm if no good) - O'C seems to be either partially or wholly bedfast - the enc's above alluded to contain a short vague PC from Mrs. OC. - nothing special in my condition - an indigestion spell, if any thing - I stop the ice-cream eating as I think it as some influence in that - am sitting here as usual by the wood fire - no doctors for some days - (just as well) - appetite and rest at night fair - my eyesight weakening perceptibly - spirits keep up better than one w'd suppose - Horace T comes every even'g - the binder has promis'd to send the specimen of better binding to-night - 3 1/2 pm The day moves steadily on - pretty dull and heavy with me here - Mrs. Davis has been in to cheer me up & was very welcome - (she has that indefinite something buoyancy of presence) - Ed is down stairs practicing on his fiddle - for a change I am going to stretch out on the bed. for a little while - I have got so that books & papers are no recreation to me, almost revolting. no letters to-day - no visitors - the days are perceptibly growing longer - Love & best wishes & God bless you all Walt WhitmanCamden '89 Jan 23 - After 9 pm - Horace has bro't the costlier binding specimen copy - a handsome substantial volume - not that I am overwhelmed or even entirely satisfied by it, but as I had not put my calculations high & was even expecting to be disappointed I shall accept it, & have some bound after it - It is dark green half calf, gilt top rough bottom & front, plain & sufficiently rich the stitching & all else strong and durable (as I am told) - price of binding each copy $1.24 - back lettering simply "Walt Whitman's Complete Works" then half way down "poems and prose" and then at bottom "Edition 1889" - I have felt easy & comfortable the last four hours - sent you a letter & papers by the 8 pm mail - - also a few words to O'C - Rec'd a letter from Rice asking me to write for the N A Review Jan 24 - With me ab't "the same subject continued" - a partial bowel dejection this forenoon - cloudy, still, raw, coolish weather - I keep a good fire - quiet here - I have seen the [Fb] Feb: Harper's, with Howells's notice of Nov: Boughs - it is friendlyish & sort o' caressing but perhaps guarded - I suppose you get the mag: if not I will send you mine - Yours of 22 rec'd- - (read the last Critic's notice again - I am not sure but it is the best of all) - I finish sitting alone in the room by the fire - this afternoon half passed, & all well - Walt WhitmanCopyright, 1888, by Walt Whitman.United States Postal Card One Cent Nothing But The Address To Be on This Side (Postmark) Camden Jan 2[7?] 5 PM 89 Dr R M Bucke Loudon Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden 4pm Jan: 27 '89 Quiet & comfortable & ab't the same- yr's came yesterday - expect to see you now before long - have the letters come via Kennedy - & The French magazine with Sarrazin's piece? - Of the latter I wish you w'd give me the running am't in translation (no hurry) - cloudy & rainy day - Walt WhitmanCamden Jan: 29 '89 Am feeling pretty well considering. My obstinate spell of indigestion continues though - I take the Fredericks hall water every morning - drink a cup of coffee every breakfast now (after an abstinence of four or five months), - - eat rather lightly - mutton broth yet - a few bits of the well-stewed mutton, good graham bread toasted - only two meals - no ice cream lunch at 1 1/2 as formerly, at all - in fact follow out the theory & advice (in general, in main) indicated by y'r letters of three or four weeks ago. -appetite - relish pretty good - no bother with bladder troubles - seems to be fair skin condition, a little sweat perceptible most every day - no doctor at all now for a week or ten or more days (I think Walsh is ill) - Have you rec'd the French magazine with Sarrazin's article from Kennedy? It seems to be one of the most ardent & penetrative & eulogistic sort - I have sent him a copy of the big book by mail - Edward Carpenter has sent me the Scottish Art Review notice by him EC of Nov: B - I will send it you - Horace has it now - I have order'd 50 copies of the fine binding from the Phila: binder (Oldach) - shall keep one for you - 30 or 35 will go to McKay on sale - I note what you say of Howells's opinion in Feb: Harper's - - indeed it contrasts with such as Sarrazin's review in the Nouvelle Revue & in that Nineteenth Century piece (Dec: '82) --- I receive word from O'Connor to-day from Mrs. O'C (enclosed) & it is rather gloomy. - Of course he ought to have a good man nurse - - needs that more than I do - poor dear friend, - I fear more definitely physically wreck'd than ever - - I am thinking ab't him all day - the impression I get is that the meter is a success & a prospect, but the work of such things is so slow & aggravating - sunny to-day rather windy & cold - I am sitting by the oak fire Walt WhitmanCamden Jan: 31 '89 A fine day, sunny, pleasantly cool. All well here, ab't the same as of late. yr's of 28th came - am quite concern'd ab't the fire, & Ed is too - reads all ab't it with interest - has the "Revue" come yet? I told K he need not be any special haste, but must send it sure before long -- he has made & sent me a fragmentary trans: of part that I have had my printer put in type & will soon in probably three or four days send you a copy - it is tip-top, warm & appreciative - - Ed & I are keeping the house to-day as Mrs: Davis has gone to Phila: to attend a law suit. She sued Mr Duckett, the boy who was with us, for ab't $150, for his many months' board. (after waiting & being fooled eighteen months or more) - A lady has just call'd & bo't four copies Nov: Boughs & order'd more - a bowel dejection to-day (partial but definite) - am feeling pretty well considering to-day - (a suspicion of something like strength) -- Tom Harned here last evn'g - good - - that new baby must be splendid - Mrs: H is well - (she is a rare superior woman) -- - The piece enclosed is Edw'd Carpenter's as you will see - (Nov: B is more likely to be read and take than any other of my books) -- 3 PM Mrs. D has just come back. - The case is postponed - no trial yet - may come up to-morrow - fine day out & out - I am comfortable - good oak fire- Walt WhitmanThe Scottish Art Review 243 Saint Vincent Street, Glasgow. NOVEMBER BOUGHS. A large flat volume, strongly roughly sewn and bound in russet-coloured limp cloth—Walt Whitman's November Boughs—comes over the sea. The author himself (as he expresses it) 'like a dismasted ship,' lying at Camden, New Jersey—occupying the brief remainder of his time, and the intervals of physical prostration and illness, with last editions of, and additions to, his works. (Just now 'I am finishing a big volume of about 900 pages comprehending all my stuff, poems and prose.') When I last saw him—four years and a half ago—he was still able, with the aid of a stick or the arm of a friend, to enjoy a ramble through Camden and across the Ferry to Philadelphia: a fine looking old man, though crippled somewhat in his gait by paralysis, well over six feet in height, with long white hair and beard, something elemental, haughty—the 'I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable' look about him, more developed even perhaps in age than when those words were written; withal an infinite tenderness and wistfulness in his eye— surely never in any man those two opposites, love and pride, exhibited side by side in such splendid antagonism as in him. Now he writes, 'have not been out doors for over six months—hardly out of my room —but get along better than you might think for'; his body disabled, and even at times his brain, but his great big heart seemingly the same as ever. But to come to November Boughs. The book consists of 140 pp., clear but compact print, prose and poetry; and to readers of Leaves of Grass and Specimen Days forms a distinct, notable, and even important addition to both these volumes. The introductory essay is 'A backward Glance o'er travel'd Roads,' and is really a history of the genesis and purpose of Leaves of Grass; the next twenty pages are occupied by poetical pieces, mostly short, under the general heading of Sands at Seventy; and the remainder of the book consists of short papers on a variety of subjects; a good many literary—Shakespeare, Burns, Tennyson, the Bible, etc.; notes on Father Taylor, Abraham Lincoln, Elias Hicks, George Fox; some more diary scraps; and a few remaining Memoranda of the War and the Hospitals. All these doubtless to be grouped with the earlier work under their different main headings in the complete volume which is to come. Of Sands at Seventy, if, as the hour-glass runs out, the movement is a little slower and more laboured, still there is work here to be compared with the author's best: the same flat acceptance of ordinary facts, the same direct gaze into the spiritual world behind them; the same egotism, the same yearning obstinately-clinging human love; the same unclipped jagged old lines; the same (though perhaps fewer) passages of large emotional volume. If there is a variation it is in the nearness of Death, and the many pieces and poems that embody the experiences of old age and thoughts of the human creature in presence of the unknown to-come; and precious are these, for by how few have such subjects been treated with equal candour or with equal penetration! Nothing is really ever lost, or can be lost, No birth, identity, form—no object of the world, Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing; Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain, Ample are time and space—ample the fields of Nature. The body, sluggish, aged, cold—the embers left from earlier fires, The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again; The sun, now low in the west, rises for mornings and for noons continual; 19 To frozen clods ever the spring's invisible law returns, With grass and flowers and summer fruits and corn. Or in 'A Carol closing Sixty-nine': Of me myself—the jocund heart yet beating in my breast, The body wreck'd old, poor, and paralyzed—the strange inertia falling pall-like round me, The burning fires down in my sluggish blood not yet extinct, The undiminished faith—the groups of loving friends. Yet the burden of it all is the same as of old in Leaves of Grass—'Pleasantly and well-suited I walk; whither I walk I cannot define, but I know that it is well.' The Sands at Seventy are as variegated as ever. The poet resists anything better than his own diversity. Here is 'The first Dandelion' looking 'forth from its sunny nook of sheltered grass—innocent, golden, calm as the dawn'; here is a song to his Canary-bird; here is the 'small thin Indian helmsman, with brow elate and governing hand,' guiding the steamship through the dangerous rapids of the St. Lawrence; here is a picture of Broadway teeming with human life; here the 'old salt,' Kossabone, related to the poet 'on his mother's side,' sits on a point overlooking the sea, watching, as his custom is, afternoons, the coming and going of the far vessels: he nearly ninety years old, and been a sailor all his life, now lives with his grandchild, Jenny: And now the close of all: One struggling outbound brig, one day, baffled for long—cross- tides and much wrong going, At last at nightfall strikes the breeze aright, her whole luck veering, And swiftly bending round the cape, the darkness proudly entering, cleaving, as he watches, 'She's free—she's on her destination'—these the last words— when Jenny came he sat there dead, Dutch Kossabone, Old Salt, related on my mother's side, far back. Here is 'The Voice of the Rain,' very beautiful; and here, at last, most characteristic, most obstinately- clinging of all, is the Goodbye to his readers, entitled 'After the Supper and Talk': After the supper and talk—after the day is done, As a friend from friends his final withdrawal prolonging, Goodbye and Goodbye with emotional lips repeating (So hard for his hands to release those hands—no more will they meet, No more for communion of sorrow and joy, of old and young, A far-stretching journey awaits him—to return no more), Shunning, postponing severance—seeking to ward off the last word ever so little, E'en at the exit-door turning—charges superfluous calling back— e'en as he descends the steps, Something to eke out a minute additional—shadows of nightfall deepening, Farewells, messages lessening—dimmer the forth-goer's visage and form, Soon to be lost for aye in the darkness—loth, O so loth to depart! Garrulous to the very last. One of the most interesting of the shorter papers is that 'On the Bible as Poetry.' Needless to say that Whitman—modern man though he essentially is—looks upon the Bible as a well-spring of poetry—'the axis of civilisation and history during thousands of years .... even to our Nineteenth Century here are the fountain heads of song. From him the chunk-headed 'Secularist' gets scant regard; 'But reading folks probably get their information of those Bible areas and peoples, as depicted in print by English and French cads, the most shallow, impudent, supercilious brood on earth.' Amid the Shakespeare speculations of the day, it is important to note that our author—who has undoubtedly a fine critical sense—leans slightly, though without by any means committing himself, to the Baconian theory; and more important, to find that he is convinced that the great series of Historical plays hides within itself a deliberate plan and purpose—that, namely, of exposing the dragon-rancours of diseased and dying Feudalism—much, we suppose, as Ibsen's social dramas to-day are exposing the futilities of diseased and dying Commercialism. An affectionate criticism of Robert Burns should commend the volume to the hearts of Scotchmen, through Whitman does not think those true friends of the Aryshire bard who will not accept for him 'anything less than the highest rank, alongside of Homer, Shakespere, etc.' A paper on 'Slang' is full of suggestion on that ever-wonderful topic, the growth of Language. Another on 'The Old Bowery Theatre,' and Booth, the actor, is replete with local interest and 20 reminiscensces. But we must stop. The book is to be had for a dollar and a quarter (about 5s.), from David M'Kay, publisher, Philadelphia, and probably can be ordered through any British bookseller. After all, November Boughs is just what its title suggests. The full foliage and wealth of summer has gone; but in exchange comes the widening prospect, the faint blue distance, the strangely-quickening odour of dead and dying leaves; the branches are alive with motion— the sough of the vast wind that sweeps over the world— the cosmic life—which, however impalpable, breathes through these pages. In one of his pieces in this volume Walt Whitman, apostrophising the Sea, declares that he would gladly surrender the powers of Homer and Shakespere, if only the Sea would breathe upon his verse 'and leave its odor there.' And in another passage (in the introductory essay) he says— 'No one will get at my verses who insists upon viewing them as a literary performance or attempt at such performance, or as aiming mainly towards art or aestheticism.' It is in this quality of Nature in Whitman's work, transcending Art, yet indeed only possible through the patient study, through the perfection and final surrender of art, that the secret of Whitman's power lies. The breath of the free wind blows through his pages. Criticism of his imperfections is easy; the secret of his power is difficult to attain. Edward Carpenter.Camden PM Feb: 2 '89 Y'rs of Jan: 31 have come (two) - Yes I value Sarrazin's review the more & more I get at it - (Curious that there in feudalistic Europe we find fellows that give us all odds, & go all above & under us we in practive they in theory) The easy handling & simple insouciance of incredible claims is the most remarkable of S's piece -- - Mrs: Davis had a verdict yesterday ag't W H D (for $190) - I continue on ab't the same - small bowel dejections - (use the ordinary injection pipe)-- - weather turn'd to cold & cloudy - feels like snow - I write a few words to O'C every other day or so nothing further rec'd f'm there -Evn'g: have had my dinner stew'd chicken & roast apples -no visitors to-day - no doctors - Cold night in prospect -- Sunday noon Feb: 3 Night not so very cold -- yr photo came - it seems to me one of the best pictures ever made - Mr & Mrs: Harned paid me a nice visit this mn'g - (the Madame is one of my favorites) - have had a call also from three yn'g men of Phila (artists I think) - take y'r time leisurely in making the abstract of Sarrazin, with careful reference to the critical & general features -- Am sitting by the oak fire as usual - have to-day's Tribune and Press - (send the former to O'C - Think of him very often) - Burroughs is stopping temporarily (for a change I suppose) in Po'keepsie with (I suppose) his wife & boy - I enclose Edw'd Carpenter's last - Walt WhitmanCamden Noon Feb: 4 '89 An incipient "cold in the head" (from an open sash behind me two hours yesterday toward evn'g forgotten) -may pass over lightly -may grow worse -(generally of late seems to settle on, merge in bladder trouble) -Otherwise matters much the same - partial bowel action (thankful for that) - half sunny weather this forenoon, rather cold - The "Magazine of Poetry" from you came - all looks better than I w'd have anticipated - pictures, print, paper very fair -I see I appear quite largely - good biographic sketch f'm y'r pen I accept & like well - quite many names I had not heard before - rather an apotheosis of good mediocrity isn't it? & why not? Feb: 5- Noon Nothing special - I am sitting by the stove alone - partial bowel dejection an hour ago - no letters rec'd this morn'g -sell two copies Nov: B today - I send papers & p-cards to O'C every other day - nothing very late from him - - cloudy dark raw here like snow in prospect - - McKay is going off "on the road" (book selling &c) in ab't a week - takes the new bound big book with him - wants of me a formal pledge that there will be no more complete works [*like this*] issued by me-but I refuse - (altho' I feel confident there will not, yet I prefer to keep it open) - I sell the C W to McK h'f calf bound for $4 - so you see I don't indeed make much - - will soon send you a printed slip of the Sarrazin fragment as the proof from K has come in the 2 PM mail, it seems but a fragment, but a typical one - yr's came to-day. The sun is out shining at setting - Walt WhitmanCamden Evn'g Feb: 6 '89 Nothing special to write about - I continue the same- I enclose in advance a slip- the only one I have- shall send you some more as I shall have some more in a day or two (S. takes 'em all down in my opinion) - I have heard from Mary Costelloe - shall send you the letter- C is elected as a progressist to the London directory municipal gov't under the new L bill (very important & a sort both of home rule & imperium within imperium) - Alys & the parents are junketing on the continent - Love - Walt WhitmanCamden Friday forenoon Feb: 8 '89 I write mainly to send the card of Mrs: O'C just rec'd -- gloomy prospect enough -- Nothing new with me -- have just had my breakfast, mutton broth with plenty of rice. & cup of chocolate -- (ate & drank all) -- Sent you several slip abstracts of the Sarrazin article -- Harned paid Ed up yesterday -- he is well -- -- Cold & half cloudy weather -- I am sitting by the stove -- thinking a good deal abt O'C Walt WhitmanCamden Feb: 9 '89 All goes well & as usual - A sunny day, pleasant, fairly cool - bowel dejection - - have been thinking a good deal of O'Connor - sent to him a letter & papers last night --- - yr's of 7th has come by the 2 pm mail - you have of course by this time the printed slip-sheet of the Sarrazin trans: by K. & it is good - but I suspect there is plenty left of the S review more that I sh'd like well to have - if you (quite when opportune) you feel to make such additional trans. do so - but do not bother or hurry abt it - but you probably have trans: & I shall get it to morrow Upon the whole I opine S's piece is the best we have rec'd in Europe - & that's saying a good deal. - I have sent you six copies the S piece - - Would it facilitate any when you come (& supposing the leave obtained) - if you went directly from London to Washington, to see & be with a few hours with O'C? - or is it best to come to Phila. & go hence to W? Sunday pm Feb: 10 Still all well, I believe. Horace last evn'g bro't over four copies of the "Complete" in their good half-calf binding - they are superb the best part being the substantiality, with the rich plainness of the look of them, one is for H himself with a dedication (wh I have written in just now) & one I keep for you - Look for word f'm Mrs. O'C tomorrow. - I enc: Mary Costelloe's letter tho' I dare say you have every minute occupied - Walt WhitmanCamden Monday pm Feb: 11 '89 - Quite a steady snow to-day, half melting after it falls - I have written to Kennedy - nothing to-day (to my disappointment) from Mrs. O'C - Knortz says the German trans: (Zurich) is out - advertised there - - but I have not seen any thing of it - your MS trans: of Sarrazin rec'd. & it completes much to me - letter with it - thanks - Have you the Atlantic magazine Aug: 1887 or w'd you like a second with the notice of Mrs. Gilchrist - in which I & mine are spoken of quite largely? - If not I will send you a copy I see I have in the rubbish - - Rec'd yesterday a good warm letter f'm Addington Symonds from Switzerland (anent of Nov: Boughs, wh' he has, & dwells on) - also a photo, large, head of S. himself & very fine Tuesday Feb: 12 - A short note from Rolleston Ireland, acknowledging his "complete" - - He says, "I like much [the] your one volume plan - It's "a book one can walk about in, as in a great "land, & see things of inexhaustible meaning & "promise." -- The Chicago Morning News Feb 9 has a long review (anent of Nov. B) wh' may probably have to go in range with Sarrazin's - may even satisfy you - I will send you one - Sun shining to-day here, but the youngsters out with skates & sleds - - Am thinking much of O'C - I enclose Symonds's letter - So far my "cold in the head" shows in a stuff'd & heavy half-dizzy feeling (nothing intense) in the said head & in occasional soreness in neck & shoulder joints. Walt WhitmanCamden p m Feb: 13 '89 I send Mrs O'C's letter rec'd this morn'g welcomed tho' it has not (only indirectly) what I mostly wanted, all ab't mainly & detailedly O'C's condition & every thing relating to him — (a good strong man nurse he evidently needs at once — my poor lamented friend — it is hard, hard) — I send Rolleston's short note — What I am specially tickled ab't is that a big five pound book (40 cents postage) goes safe & sure to Co: Wicklow Ireland f'm Jersey here, — I also enc: Jo: Gilder's invitation letter, just rec'd, of course I make no response — Things nearly the same — not one even of my tolerable days — my head is uncomfortable, half aching & half deaf — sunny & cold weather — yes, I will send "Magazine of Poetry," back - — Horace ask'd last evn'g of y'r definitive date of coming, with reference to fixing for y'r lecture — I am sitting here stupidly all day by the stove Walt Whitman attack four weeks ago, & one of the new very bad & troublesome developments is the nausea & throwing up, so you see that I am not very idle, & I some days could not write a postal card to save you. You will ask why we don't have a nurse? theanswer is William does not want me, & is not ready yet, Nec sends love to you & says tell you he would write if he could. Good by forever - Nelly O'Connor P.S. I have had to leave this letter six times to do some thing elseCamden Feb: '89 19th - 9 pm - Horace call'd to say you w'd not start till Monday next - All right - nothing since f'm O'C. wh' is the most pressing matter with me now - I fear he is having a bad bad time - & think of him much - Nothing very different or new in my affairs - My "cold in the head" still hangs on - some twinge of bladder trouble but nothing serious - upon the whole am getting along pretty fairly I fancy - have a fancy - contemplation of a small special edition of L of G with Annex & "Backward Glance", all bound in pocket-book style pretty well probably morocco edges cut pretty close - Have rec'd the Pall Mall Jan: 25, with a long favorable notice of Nov. Boughs - I sh'd send it now, but have lent it over to McKay to look at - shall keep it for you - no rec't yet of the German trans: book - Dr Karl Knortz has an office at 19 Dey st: New York not far from P O & wants you to stop & see him when you can. Wednesday 20th: Sunny & cool & fine to-day - My brother Jeff from St Louis (topographical engineer) here - (as he grows older, we look curiously alike - you would know he was my brother) - he is not well stomach & throat botheration - goes back to St Louis to-night - - Horace came last night with the tel: that you w'd not start till next Monday - bowel action this mn'g. - am sitting as usual by my stove - The enc: is f'm Ernest Rhys to me, nothing particular but ER always cheery & welcome - I guess A Gardner, publisher Paisley, Scotland, must have sent copies of his little ed'n Nov: B around to English and Scotch editors - very good - I have sent y'r Sarrazin abstract to be put in type - shall give it to you to read proof - no hurry - it is in some resp's the best thing said ab't us Walt WhitmanCamden March 21 '89 Noon - Feeling pretty well - dark & rainy (the third day) - news not favorable from O'C. as you will see by enc'd card - I write a few lines every day to him & send Mrs. O'C the Boston paper. The "process" plate (considerably reduced) of that, 3/4 pict: McK got in NY. is good, & I shall use it in book before long - shall send it you (probably several impressions) soon, as I have them printed nicely - definite bowel action this forenoon - the Sat: Review (March 2) has either gone to you, or will soon go (A rather curious notice) - I haven't seen Lawyer Harned since you went- Horace was in this forenoon - faithful & invaluable as ever - Mrs. Davis has come in for a few moments to see if am "all right" - Ed has been making up the bed. Toward Sunset Had a good thorough bath this afternoon. hot water - my "cold" has not altogether withdrawn -I feel it in the head perceptibly enough an hour or two now and then - heavy sloppy muddy day - I almost envy your having such lots to do, responsibilities & strong & well & energetic to do 'em - My 'lassitude' is one of the worst points in my condition - but whether Sidney Morse's man's answer (when reproach'd for drunkenness) "Suppose twas so intended to be" was right or no - Mrs. Davis' woman's remark is "So it really is any how" - & answers all philosophy & argument (up to a certain line you probably say) - Well I will adjust myself for dinner, & hope you & Mrs B & all are having good times - & send my love to all - Walt WhitmanCamden March 22 '89 Sunny & fine & mild to-day -- am fairly well -- O'C's still weakly, badly vomiting &c -- a card from Mrs O'C today -- Yours of 20th rec'd -- A long visit from TBH last evening -- talk'd of the meter -- plans of launching it here &c. -- The 4th Vol. (p 772) of the American supplement 'Brit: Encyc' : has a pretty good statistical & friendly notice of me WW(Postmark) CAMDEN, N.J. MAR 22 8PM 88 Dr R M Bucke Loudon Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden Evn'g March 19, '89 Rec'd the Saturday Review with notice of Nov: B. wh I will send you soon (thro' O'C) -- Nothing different to write ab't -- am rather easier in head &c. -- a dark half rainy day not cold -- -- sold two books to-day -- am sitting here as usual in the big chair dawdling over the papers &c -- Rather wonder I feel as well & hearty even as I do-- Walt WhitmanUNITED STATES POSTAL CARD ONE CENT NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE. CAMDEN, N.J. Mar 8 PM 88 2 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden Saturday March 23 '89 Noon -- another sunny beautiful day -- -- am in fair order (for me) -- secretions & excretions not to be complained of -- have just sold a big book & got the money for it -- Horace has been in this mn'g -- I sent word to McKay (who wants more big books) he has had 45 that I w'd let him have the sheets entire with autograph & plates for $3.33 a set, he to bind them -- (this charge I have to pay of $1.28 for binding the vol. half chokes me) -- I must get more out of it -- The proposed ed'n of L of G. with Annex & Backward Glance (ab't 420 pp) is to be -- bound (probably) in handsome morocco, pocket-book style, six or eight portraits, & autograph, -- $5 -- (shall probably bring it out to commemorate my finishing my 70th year) -- a little inscription on title -- -- Afternoon -- another big book sale -- TB Aldrich Boston who sends $25 for it! -- Ed has resumed his flesh-brushing & half-massage on me -- had a spell two hours ago -- Sunday 24th -- Bright fine weather continued (couldn't be finer) -- Hope you have it too & enjoy it -- & deeply hope is O'C is easier & comfortable. -- Had my breakfast ab't 9. hot oysters & chocolate & Graham bread -- McK declines my proposition -- I am sitting here in the big chair -- bowel action an hour ago -- hope to get downstairs a few moments to day -- Walt WhitmanCamden March 27 '89 The news is pretty gloomy yet from O'C as you see from the enclosed card -- Ab't the same with me as hitherto of late. Cloudy & dull weather. Horace has been in this forenoon -- Ed has just been making up the bed &c -- I am sitting here in the big chair back'd with the old wolf-skin -- not cold to-day, (but half raw) -- Six letters rec'd by mail, & five of them [all] autograph applications! (Did I acknowledge the Bury English paper July 13 1880 with y'r California &c narrative wh' I peruse & over again with greatest interest?) -- Evn'g.-- All fair as usual -- bowel action -- -- the daylight grows apace -- it is 7 & I have just lighted the gas -- very quiet even dull as I write -- this goes in the Phila: PO soon after 8 pm -- when does it reach you? -- I see in this evng's news death of John Bright -- a grand star quench'd -- Herbert Gilchrist here this afternoon -- he says there is late news of Tennyson's bad illness -- I havn't seen it -- Walt WhitmanCamden March 28 '89 Every thing keeps on ab't the same as of late, Somewhat of a lull in O'C's sufferings--Y'r letter came at noon --(a beautiful bunch of flowers from Mrs. Spaulding, Boston, same time--they are scenting the room as I write.) Horace and Mr Blake Unitarian minister f'm Chicago here this mn'g--pleasant visit--a spell of my currying (massage) f'm Ed at noon to me--(generally have two spells in the twenty four hours, one at bed time)--am getting ready for the special L of G. ed'n I spoke of--Horace has just gone over to the printer's & paper supplier's--Dave McKay has been over to day--paid me the royalty $55.64 cts. for sales of L of G. and S D on the last six months--& $100 on acc't of big books he has had & sold--write out on a slip all the typo: errors in L of G.--Annex--& Backward Glance--you find--& send me at early convenience--I ask you to write a line to D McK. to let me have a few copies (whatever I require) of your book in sheets you waiving the royalty--I of course paying him the cost price W WCamden April 8 '89 Shall send you Stedman's letter in a day or two--it is well worth reading--Nothing very new-- --As I smell the fumes of the cooking while I write, thankful that they do not seem utterly welcomeless to me as so much (books, magazines, &c) do. Well, here comes my dinner W WUNITED STATES POSTAL CARD NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS CARD CAMDEN, N.J. APR 8 8 PM 89 2 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden April 7 '89 Y'r letters arrived & welcome-- My card yesterday f'm Mrs: O'C speaks of our dear friend as having a good night previous--& sitting up next forenoon-- Nothing new with me--Horace, Tom Mrs: H, and Mr Morehouse have just call'd --My cold in the head still on--cloudy & raw weather--Am sitting here in the big chair alone -- have had two moderate sweating spells past two days-- Walt WhitmanUNITED STATES POSTAL CARD. NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE. CAMDEN, N.J. APR 7 5 PM 89 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden April 4 '89 The "cold in head" still grips me. As I write the sun shines out clear & inspiriting--Y'r letter comes--Ed has been down to the bank to deposit some cheques for me--My sister from Burlington has just been here & the sweetest young, 16 y'r girl that exists--most magnetic & attractive & blended--I am sitting here in the big chair & every thing goes on ab't the same as ever. Walt WhitmanUNITED STATES POSTAL CARD. NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE. CAMDEN APR 5 6 AM 89 2 N. Y. 4-5-89 1030AM 2 R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario Canada(Postmark) LONDON CANADA AM AU 2 89 Camden March 31 '89 Just a word, any how, Nothing new or different - Pretty dull - my cold in the head rampant - I am trying to while the day with the Press and NY Tribune - Mr and Mrs. Harned to call on me - Walt WhitmanUNITED STATES POSTAL CARD. NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE. (Postmark) CAMDEN, NJ March 5PM 89 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden March 29 '89 A long & good letter fr'm Stedman & a present of the big vols: (all yet printed, 7) of his "American Literature" in wh' I appear (with good wood eng: portrait) - My condition ab't same - bowel action - sit here same pretty dull & stupid - - weather fair - cooler - A letter fr'm Kennedy - yr's came - Ed has rec'd a big veterinary book - seems inclined to that study & "business" - W W(Postmark) Camden, N.J. March 26 8PM 89 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden March 26 '89 Fine weather continued - a little cooler. The news ab't O'C in y'r letter & Dr Hood's strikes in & gloomily - & has depress'd me all day - - Much the same with me - feeling fairly, physically - getting ready for L of G ed'n to commemorate 70th year finish - have paid the binder's (Oldach) bill for calf binding $65.28 & also bill for the 3/4 portrait "process" 10.50 - McKay was here yesterday - promis'd to come 28th & pay me the 1st Dec. '88 statement (wh' is not yet paid) - have also to pay other bills just come in, wh' I will now be enabled to do - W WUNITED STATES POSTAL CARD. NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE. (Postmark) CAMDEN, N.J. MAR 26 8PM 89 2 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario Canada328 Mickle street Camden New Jersey April 8 '89 The enclosed is Stedman's letter ab't the "Complete" I tho't you m't like to read - (T B Aldrich's also th'o short is very friendly & eulogistic - not sent here) - - Nothing in my condition &c specially notable - but the pegs are gradually loosening perhaps being slowly pull'd out - I have been kept in here now almost a year, (not been out doors once in that time - hardly out of the sick room) - but as before said I get along more comfortably than you might suppose. I had lots of Doctors but they have all vanished - fair nights & tolerable days - Am busying myself with a new ed'n of L of G. with "Sands at 70" and "Backward Glance" all in one Vol. bound (in thinner paper) in pocket-book style, I have had a notion for, & now put out partly to occupy myself, & partly to commemorate my finishing my 70th year - Sit up mainly all day - at present (as so often told) in my big arm chair with the thick wolf skin spread on the back - writing this on the tablet on my lap - early afternoon - fairly comfortable - a good oak fire - raw & dark weather out - Love & good prospects to all Walt WhitmanKennedy please send all to Mr O'Connor and O'C please send on to Dr BuckeCamden April 14 '89 Fine sunny weather- nothing special in my health - (if any difference am suffering less from the join'd "cold in the head" & constipation firm) - am sitting here in the big chair - have been trying to eke out a two-page preface for the new reprint of Backw'd Glance of 70th y'r ed'n L of G & shall send off to the printer what I have, hit or miss - - sleep at night pretty well - appetite poor - Did you get the letter (via O'C) containing Stedman's? - Have not heard from O'C for a week - am a little anxious - Harned & Mrs H here & little Tom - Horace faithful as always - Ed all right - the doctors all abstinent - haven't had a call for two months - signs of spring - longer days - - presents of little bunches of flowers - - had a letter from our friend R P Smith - England (enclosed) - The letter from Kennedy also enclosed - I have made no answer or opinion to him ab't it - God bless you & all - very partial sort o' restricted bowel actions, ab't every other day - seem natural - took a calomel powder night before last - often the Frederichshall water -- Walt Whitman[postcard] UNITED STATES POSTAL CARD NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE (Postmark) CAMDEN, N.J. APR 22 8PM 89 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden April 22 '89 The best news to-day is the saving of those 750 Danmark voyagers wh' quite gives additional glow to this fine weather - y'r letter and Mrs. O'C's note rec'd - I continue much the same - rec'd letter from Alys Smith from Eng: from Mary's house - all ab't well - the new ed'n gets on slowly but fairly. Harned's fine baby here yesterday - splendid child - Ed has gone out for a stretch. Walt WhitmanCamden April 17 '89 Yr's came - welcome - I send some papers - the "sayings" of the Japanse make Horace frantic angry - they are invented or distorted most horribly - I take it all phlegmatically - Dark, heavy, raw day. & my feelings ab't same. Love - Walt Whitman[postcard] UNITED STATES POSTAL CARD NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE (Postmark) CAMDEN, N.J. 14 APR 8AM 2 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden April 16 '89 Cloudy raw weather - (may be part of my glum condition) No word from O'C now for a week and over - write a card to him to-night & to Kennedy - good words &c from big printed quarters (NY World and Herald) - if I get them will send you - W W[postcard] UNITED STATES POSTAL CARD NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE (Postmark) CAMDEN N. J. 16 APR 8 PM 2 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden April 11 '89 Y'r cheery little letter has just come - have just finished & sent to the printer a little two page preface (so to call it) that has to be eked out in the Backward Glance for 70th y'r ed'n L of G - - Am having bad hours (& now seven or eight days) with the damnable cold & constipation leagued - W W[postcard] UNITED STATES POSTAL CARD NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE CAMDEN, N.J. APR [?] 8 PM 89 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario Canada[letter & newspaper clipping] Camden April 25 '89 Not much difference - restricted bowel action every day or two (enough "to swear by") - still live on mutton-broth, Graham bread, coffee or tea, mainly - appetite fair - nights fair - no doctors not one now for two months - (is it a good sign?) - have taken a calomel powder three or four evng's ago, & shall probably take another to-night - write for me plainly the proper calomel prescription - a trifle stronger dose if you think proper - & send me in your next - (I think I w'd prefer to have it from Brown's place 5th and Federal) Pleasantish weather a little raw and dusty - we need rain, & will probably soon have it - - Stedman is mad over that Japanee's item in the Herald of my (invented opinion) lines ab't him - he, S. has written to Horace T in answer to H T's to him disavowing the the authenticity - much furore & newspaper reporting here in Phila over Capt: Murrell of the Missouri the last three days - I see by the slip in this mng's Phil. Record a great change wh - see. I had not heard of it before - - All y'r letters come & are welcome. The enc: card rec'd fr'm Mrs: O'C to day, - New ed'n L of G progressing - Horace was here to-day - My "cold in the head" still adheres to me - Ed is well - - Am sitting here in the big chair alone comparatively comfortable - Best love to you & all - Walt Whitman [newspaper clipping] CANADA has pulled in her latchstring. Her territory is no longer a haven of refuge and safety for fleeing murderers, counterfeiters, forgers, embezzlers, kidnapers, perjurers and other fugitive criminals from the United States. The law will go into effect after proclamation by the Governor General. This is an act of good neighborhood to which the United States should respond with all convenient haste. The repression and punishment of crime will be much facilitated when it shall no longer be possible for a criminal to skip over the border, on a frontier line extending across the continent, and bid defiance to the law.Camden April 27 '89 Y'r good letter rec'd - ab't the Balt. Hospital idea it does not at present come to me any thing like decidedly - but will probably have some more definite feeling soon - the cloudy & rainy spell continued to-day - quite a sort o' bowel movement this forenoon - (took a cal: powder last night & some bitter water this morning) - rare egg, fried, Graham b'd and coffee for breakfast - am to have three or four rare stew'd oysters for my supper ab't 5 - (I eat no dinner) - all goes sort o' comfortable - gloomy & rainy enough out tho' - mild rather - Sunday afternoon April 28 Well it just looks out like clearing & sunshine - so mote it be - Nothing very different with me - my head &c: the "cold" & stuffy (is it catarrh?) heavy deaf half:ache feeling - - have been trying to interest myself in the press and the Tribune today - poor work - rather dull to-day & (indeed these days) - - yes the sun comes out stronger - promising great things for the New York show, wh' seems to be much made of all around here - I enc. two or three cards &c: (like the dinner givers put on some extra dishes even if not much appetizing in them they fill up) - the new ed'n L of G. will have six little portraits in - all goes on smoothly - - am sitting here by a pretty good fire as it is coolish - Best love to you all - Walt WhitmanCamden May 1 '89 Well the NY show goes over to-day in a blaze of glory, & Barnum's great circus comes in here at noon & exhibits to night - (Ed goes - I am favorable) - & besides Dr Baker "graduates" this afternoon - you know he is my first nurse - last June - & Osler makes the address - indeed I believe two of 'em-- things ab't same as before with me--- Walt Whitman[postcard] UNITED STATES POSTAL CARD NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE (Postmark) CAMDEN, N.J. MAY 1 8 PM 89 1 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden May 2 '89 Feeling abt fairly - weather not unpleasant, cloudy & little cool - am sitting here by the oak fire - a middling fair bowel action an hour ago, I go out to the closet myself & return - Horace has been in - the L of G pocket-book ed'n is getting along - - (probably the press-work to day - also some of the plates at the plate press) - Well the big N Y show seems to have all pass'd over successfully - to me the idea of it is good, even grand, but I have not enthused ab't it at all - (may-be a whim, but the most insignificant item in the whole affair has been Harrison himself, President for all he is) - So the circus here was a success last night - - Ed enjoy'd it hugely - & I suppose Dr Baker has gone off (to Minneapolis) immediately after his graduation -- Mrs Davis was there - Osler spoke well & was treated to great applause - all this in the Phila: Academy wh' must have look'd gayly - I have been looking over the May Century the Book News and the Critic, (so I may be supposed to be posted with current literature) - read Whittier's long N Y centennial ode - also Wyatt Eaton's reminiscences (interesting) of J F Millet - - the "cold in the head" still upon me palpably - - stew'd chicken Graham bread & coffee for my meals lately - - Ed gives me a good currying every evening - Sleep fairly - - sun bursting forth as I write - the great long burr-r-r of the Phila. whistles from factories or shores often & plainly here sounding & I rather like it - (blunt & bass) - some future American Wagner might make something significant of it - Guess you must have all good times there - occupied & healthy & sufficiently out door - I refresh myself sometimes thinking (fancying) ab't you all there - I enclose Mrs. O'C's yesterday's card - I send card or something every evn'g - Love to you Mrs B & the children W WCamden May 4 '89 Sarrazin's book - (from him from Paris) has come, & looks wonderfully inviting all through but is of course sealed to me - I enclose a slip of title detailedly, as you may want to get one from New York - (but of course you can have my copy as much as you want) - I have written to Knortz (540 East 155th st New York) - & a card acknowledging reception to S Paris - Fine & sunny here - am rather heavy-headed - & hefty anyhow to-day - - nothing specially to particularize - ate my breakfast (mutton broth & Graham bread with some stew'd apple) with ab't usual zest - (nothing at all sharp, but will do & even thankful it's as well as it is) - The [B] "Literary News" NY book &c monthly May, has a good two page biography & notice - wh' I send (or will send soon) - Did you get a letter in wh' I asked you to write out & enclose in my letter for Dr. Brown (apothecary here) a proper calomel powder prescription a little stronger (if you thought right) - did you get the letter? - Did you send your W W book to Sarrazin? Sunday May 5 Fine & sunny to day - feeling fairly - all going smoothly - In general ab't the world, I guess we are now floating on dead water in literature, politics, theology, even science - resting on our oars, &c, &c, - criticizing, resuming - at any rate chattering a good deal (of course the simmering gestation &c, &c, are going on just the same) - but a sort of lull - - a good coming summer to you & Mrs B & all of you Walt WhitmanCamden May 8 '89 The word from O'C is bad as you see by the enclosed card - in some respects the worst yet - I am feeling badly depress'd ab't it to-day as you may think - Otherwise nearly the same as usual - fine sunny weather - Horace and Ed are going over to Phila. on a hunt for the out-door chair suitable for me - the pocket-book ed'n L of G is progressing fairly - Wm Ingram has just call'd - he is well - stays mostly at his farm - the 1 pm whistle is sounding burr-r-r over the Delaware - the sun is pouring down almost hotly out (O that I could be out & move in it) & my dear O'C is there in W. may-be unconscious, - may-be passing from life - meanwhile - thought o'ertoppling all else - my old nurse Musgrove has just been in to see me. I have a friendly feeling toward him - Tom Harned was here last evn'g - He is busy - is always good to me - Walt WhitmanCamden May 10 '89 Our dear friend O'Connor died peacefully at 2 a m yesterday Walt WhitmanUNITED STATES POSTAL CARD. ONE CENT NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE. CAMDEN, N.J. MAY 10 12 M 89 1 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden May 9 pm '89 No word to-day from O'C leaving me to gloomy apprehensions - - sunny & warm here & I am expecting an out-door chair to get forth in, under Ed's convoy. If the weather keeps good & no hitch in my condition I shouldn't wonder if I got out that way, before you receive this - Walt Whitman[postcard] UNITED STATES POSTAL CARD NOTHING BUT ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE (Postmark) CAMDEN, N.J. MAY 6 6AM 89 (Postmark) 5-10-89 10 30 AM 1 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden May 6 '89 Splendid sunny weather - nothing specially new - good bowel action - wrote you at some length last evn'g ab't Sarrarin's book rec'd - y'r good letter this mn'g - have tho't no more definitely of the Baltimore Hospital scheme - am sitting here as usual comfortable enough - - my sister Lou just been here has been down to see my bro: Eddy - he is all right - Walt Whitman[postcard] UNITED STATES POSTAL CARD NOTHING BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE (Postmark) CAMDEN, N.J. MAY 6 8 PM 89 1 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario CanadaCamden Saturday - just after noon - Of course the main tho't has been yesterday & is to-day, the death of O'C - I enclose the letter of Mrs: O'C rec'd yesterday - - (Another death here, old Mrs: Mapes, buried this afternoon,) y'r letters come & are welcom'd - (if you sent one with the Calo: prescription, however, it never reach'd me) - it was only really rec'd two days since - Am feeling sufficiently easy to-day - my out-door wheel chair has come & is very satisfactory (both to Ed & me) & I intended to get out this forenoon, but I took a rather laborious bath at 10 1/2 & felt some exhausted, & shall probably get out a little this afternoon - pleasant weather, not quite so warm to-day, but has been markedly warm - fair bowel-action this forenoon - - Some of the friends here in Camden, (lawyers, a teacher or two, an editor, Tom Harned, & others) have laid out a sort of commemoration formal dinner for my arriving my 70th year old terminus - a good dinner, tickets ($5) toasts, speeches, &c. - no wine - you have probably rec'd the newspaper items f'm Horace I have let them go on on their own way, as they have set their hearts upon it, & they are all quite fellows I love & respect - but I have definitely told them it is not certain I shall get there in propria personae - & if so (wh' I will if practicable) w'd only show myself & acknowledge the compliment wh' seems to be no more than decent - tho' the jamboree [itself] does not present itself as appropriate, or particulary encouragable to my mind - Well we shall see - - The pocket-bound ed'n is getting on smoothly, & no mishap or hitch yet - the printed sheets are at the binder's - - Horace sold a big book to-day & McKay another - Sunday May 12 '89 - Well I went out in the wheel chair yesterday afternoon & was probably out an hour & a half - every thing work'd well - the chair is a success & sits & goes easy - Ed of course propell'd me - Shall go out again to-day - the weather continues fine, very mild - I sweat quite freely - had some good asparagus for my breakfast (sent f'm my brother's garden, Burlington) - Harry Stafford was here yesterday, he is pretty thin, [as] is still working managing the RR station at Marlton, NJ - all the rest ab't as usual - Wm Ingram comes often. Love to you & Mrs: B and all Walt WhitmanCamden just after 11 a m May 20 '89 A warm pleasant clouded day - am feeling fairly - bowel action an hour ago- - have been yesterday 3 hours signing the autographs for the pocket-book ed'n L of G - the book will probably be a good job except the press work wh' don't suit me. The pictures appear to be all good (I wanted to send off three or four copies to Europe & am a little disappointed - I had even a tho't of sending it to the Paris Exposition - of course I shall send one to Sarrazin) - the Critic (18th May) has rather a tame obituary of O'C - I send it to Mrs: O'C: - If you care to see them (the Boston Trans: too) I will ask her to send them to you, to be returned to her - But there is nothing memorable. - Horace wrote an obituary & sent but the C declined it - Horace has a situation in a bank. Phila: likes it I believe - hours &c: easy - Ed is well - is down stairs at his fiddle - - I have rec'd a letter from Mrs. Costelloe herewith enc'd - all well - was indoors all yesterday, in the room here - a bad night last - have not used the cal: powders any yet. I will keep them for specially bad spells - - sweat freely - appetite good enough - a rare fried egg, graham bread, coffee & some stewed rhubarb for breakfast - eyes bad- rain falling copiously as I write - sitting here alone 2d story room - the complimentary dinner (in wh' of course I shall not join - it will be quite a feat to be wheel'd there, & show myself - if I do that) is smoothly moving. - It is now noon & after, & thanks to Ed I have had my currying of half an hour, for an interregnum - rainy & warm - Walt Whitman[*1889*] Camden Mickle Street Well Maurice every thing here goes on much the same, & fairly enough - As I write, it is abt 1 pm. Saturday, clear but not sunny & neither cool nor warm - I have just had a midday currying - partial bowel action two hours ago - feel middling (but cold in the head, or catarrh or gathering or whatever it is yet) - get out a little in the wheel chair - they are all going out Mrs D and all to an East Indian ship for two or three hours this afternoon - I told Ed to go too as he was invited. (& he will go) - the ship is here from Bombay, & our sailor boys know some of their sailors - We broke a big bottle of good wine yesterday & all of us ( seven - me at the head) drank health & respects to Queen Victoria - (it was her birth day you know -) - - My big dinner (wh' however I shall probably not eat, and only be there a few minutes if at all) - Is coming on swimmingly they say - Herbert Gilchrist is to make the responsive speech to the British toast to friends - Col. Ingersoll's coming is uncertain - not Howells nor Burroughs nor Aldrich nor Kennedy to be here - no word yet fr'm Stedman (Achilles laid up in his tent moody am rather sorry but am not to blame)— Night - 9 1/2 - Have been out twice to day in the wheel-chair - short excursions - TBH has been here this evn'g - 150 dinner tickets taken now - y'r letter rec'd by H - (I have not seen it yet) - coolish temperature three days & now stopping sweat exudation & somewhat bad for me but well enough as I sit here alone every thing quiet, but some sailors from the ship down stairs Sunday toward noon May 26 A clouded rather rawish day - Am going up to my friends Mr & Mrs: Harned's in an hour, in my wheel chair - to stay a few minutes, & probably get a drink of champagne - (of which H always has the best & treats me to galore) - - Havn't now had such a tipple for a year. - Nothing particular to write - my head is a little heavy & thick - no pocket-book copies yet, but I count on them in a couple of days - All goes fairly as c'd be expected Walt WhitmanCamden May 19 '89 All goes much the same, & fairly. I have just sent to Mrs: O'C a Boston Transcript May 16, with a 20 or 30 line notice of O'C's death - Have not seen yet any acc't of funeral - I get out a little every day in the wheel chair. The pocket- book ed'n will be bound & ready in a week - Walt Whitman[postcard] UNITED STATES POSTAL CARD NOTHNG BUT THE ADDRESS TO BE ON THIS SIDE (Postmark) CAMDEN, N. J. MAY 19 5PM 89 1 Dr R M Bucke London Asylum Ontario Canadalong notices Boston Advertiser by Wm M Fullerton & Boston Herald by Sylvester Baxter WALT WHITMAN, CAMDEN, NEW JERSEY.[*20/70 81.*] [*Bad Advertiser*] 2 LETTERS ABOUT BOOKS Walt Whitman. (From The Sunday Record) My dear Everard: It is a pity in life that champions of causes in regard to which, at least for a time, two opposite intelligent opinions may reasonably be held, seem often to regard it as necessary to state their views somewhat more dogmatically than is consistent with the truth, or than they actually in their own minds cherish them. There is often than otherwise a conscious. If not even willful, exaggeration practiced by the devoted pleaders of unpopular causes. Is it from an idea that truth will not in the end be triumphant, and cannot do without puffing or suppositions praise? It is indeed somewhat pathetic to watch, so often as one has to do in life, devotion thus misplaced. I am optimist enough to believe that a cause which deserves success will certainly in the long run succeed. It is our duty to wait and be patient. Time, it is true, is a persistent haggler and somewhat cynical withal; and much waiting often puts it out of humor. But it doffs its ill-favored mask at the end, and at last, by giving us reward if we be faithful, becomes the Mother of Consolation for the race. These truths it behooves both the admirers of, and the indifferent concerning, Walt Whitman to remember. If the "good, gray poet" is really the prophet of a new era in literature; if, solemn, dignified, and vatic, he stays the only true seer-bard of the American principles of democracy, it surely needs not that there be such fulsome eulogy of him as has more than once come to us from over stay, in certain respects from Mrs. Gilchrist, the Rossettis, Robert Buchanan, and even from him who, however, is the sanest of them all, Robert Louis Stevenson. And, on the other hand, if he be not the poet of tremendous and unique genius that they call him, but only a man of very original poetic thought, now and then flashing out brilliantly suggestive utterances in struggling prose, which is utterly devoid, however, of the poetic inevitableness and lilt, then those who would detract from his fame have, as I said, only patiently to wait to receive ample vindication in their view. To furnish a cooler, saner judgment, my dear Everard, I would not presumptuously attempt. I myself, I fear, am too great and admirer of Whitman, and yet I have certain things to say about this man which I want to write to you, and which I know that you, at least, from your affection for him, will be glad to hear. I am not sure but that his star shines with the most peculiar light, I do not say the brightest, of that of any orb in the whole starry system of universal literature. This, at any rate, is a harmless judgment, which even his detractors will not quarrel with me making. But whether I mean more by it than they do you will see if you but go with me to the end. I have come out here into the open air, into the shadow of a disused, picturesque old building, all but covered by the luxurious trailing Virginia creeper, with elms and shrubbery all about me, and the odor of the heated grass rising up into my nostrils, with Whitman's volume in my lap and the intermittent sounds of the bird notes, the buzz of the flies and the thousand and one other country sights and noises which go to make up the softly breathing melody that plays over the meadows and along the by-roads in the summer sunlight. It is all in harmony with Whitman in his quieter moods. And I have chanted over again to myself, as I have sat here, those strange, deep lines in the "Song of Myself," beginning: - A child said, What is the grass fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what is is any more than he. And then I read on through the tenderly lyrical love songs, "When I heard at the Close of the Day" and "I Saw in Louisiana a Live Oak Growing," the former breathing as passionate longing as any of the lines of Sappho, but tender and quiet and Greek as hera, reminding me, too, more than once of the lovely "Song of Solomon"; the latter rich in pathos and sweetness there is in the sadness and in pensive resignation. And then, not content with those, I passed to the grand burst whose key-note [?]as sympathy; that divinely eloquent preen to the future, full of the most resonant harmonica and the truest inspiration, "Salut au Monde"; and it is on the crest of the highest wave of a swelling ocean that I have been hurried in those lines, which break thus at the close of this wonderful poem: - My spirit has pass'd in compassion and determination around the whole earth. I have look'd for equals and lovers and found them ready for me in all lands. I think some divine rapport has equalized me with them. You vapors, I think I have risen with you, moved away to continents, and fallen down there, for reasons, I think I have blown away with you, you winds; You waters, I have lingered every shore with you. I have run through what any river or strait of the globe has run through. I have taken my stand on the bases of peninsulas, and on the high embedded rocks, to cry thence. Salut au monde! What cities the light or warmth penetrates I penetrate those cities myself. All islands to which birds wing their way I wing my way myself. Towards you all in America's name. I raise high the perpendicular band. I make the signal. To remain after me in sight forever. For all the haunts and homes of men. And I have said to myself, with the memory of all these passages in my mind, here truly is a great and noble singer of divine song, and they who know it not simply have witfully stopped their ears to his wonderful voice. The last passage that I quoted reveals one of the peculiar traits, a chief distinction of this poet. Is not this the anticipatory utterance of that democratic age, named by the sinner of "Locksley Hall" in his phrase. "The Federation of the World," the "Parliament of Man"? Is this not one with the Christian principle of devotion to the cause of Humanity, which tells us* that our sympathies must run out even unto the [?] [? ?], to the flaming walls of the Lucretian universe; that we must embrace in our thought and take even into our hearts not only ourselves, our families of our neighbors; no only the town in which we pay our taxes, the woods near our houses in which we roam; not only the birds and the beasts and the worms that drink in the strength to fly or to prowl or to crawl from the very atmosphere that we, too, breathe; not only, in a word, all that our sun shines upon and warms into being upon this condensed and swimming point of space that we call Earth ; but even all that whirls beyond, the seen and the unseen, in the night above us, or in the vast sweeps of infinite space beneath us, when suns unnumbered beam on chaotic or formed or dying worlds ? What is this but the truest religious feeling; this thought that we are a part of an end all is a part of us ? Hers is the simple order of this philosophy : the world struggle exceedingly for man; and the man came; and "God saw that he was good"; and man then gradually arose in his dignity, and, while he saw the imperfection that was in himself, he saw also by faith the hope and the promise, and he recognized his relations and responsibilities. He sees himself as the "Acme of things accomplished," and "An encloser of things to be." What further he saw himself to be let the great bard sing. He speaks of himself as the typical man: - My feet strike the apex of the apices of the stairs, On every step bunches of ages, and larger bunches between the steps. All below duly travel'd, and still I mount and mount. And now listen to this figure of unsurpassed imaginative power and mysterious meaning:- Rise after rise bow the phantoms behind me, Afar down I see the huge first Nothing, I know I was even there. I waited unseen and always, and slept through the lethargic mist. And took my time, and took no hurt from the fetid carbon. Long I was hugg'd close - long and long, Immense have been the preparations for me. Faithful and friendly the arms that have helped me. Cycles ferried my cradle, rowing and rowing like cheerful boatman. For room to me stars kept aside in their own rings, They sent influences to look after what was to hold me. Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me. My embryo has never been torpid, nothing could overlay it. My rendezvous is appointed, this certain, The Lord will be there and wait till I come on perfect terms. The great Comerado, the lover true for whom I pine, will be there. I have said that the soul is no more than the body, And I have said that the body is not more than the soul, And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is. I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least, Nor do I understand who can be more wonderful than myself. Does it sound strange, mystical even atheistical in expression? Nay, rather is it not the voice of religion, pure and undefiled, the worship of the spirit and the hear? No idol- worship is this. It is like the wonder and faith of the little child bowing before the mystery of things, and a universe which is only slowly comprehensible. It is in harmony, too, with the truest philosophy. Nothing has more distinguished the thinking of recent years than the return of Socratic principle of the necessity of the study of self at the haste and condition of all true knowledge. It is clearly demonstrable that the injunction on the portico of Delphi, "Know thyself," is re-echoed in the thinking of all philosophers who inspire with new life the metaphysical dogmas of the past. The problem of self, this solving of the mystery of the age, this determination of the nature of personality, is the age- long problem. Pope was was right, notwithstanding the narrow criticism of many a theologian of his time. The proper study of mankind is man. This is the study that gives us God, freedom and immortality. As the most distinctive point in regard to a circle is the centre from which in every direction, and at equal distances, all lines reach the circumference, so the man, the ego, in a universe of variety and motion, is the distinctive centre of the whole. The Pre-Socratic philosophy was, on the whole, hylozoistic, the attention to man himself. What was the result? In but a few years the spiritualism, the ideality of the Platonism and the Aristotolinism arose. Then, after the centuries, again there was degradation. Men waited by the deep and placid waters of the philosophy for the troubling that the breeze which never came would send. But at last it did come. And Kant gave new life to souls on souls. So At the last, the study of self is the study of the universe, and of God, and the soul's destiny. That Whitman recognizes this in his own original way is his supreme distinction; and his cry is: - No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God and about death. For -- Life I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths. No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before. Such peace as this "about God and about death" is not the peace that comes to the lethargic soul of the lotus dreamer who thinks not, nor cares; it is not the peace of him who soars on [?] wings, and, disgusted with the fall that surely comes, is content with the rade bravado and coarse or vulgar jeering at everything religious or pertaining to the divine. It is rather the peach of the healthy, thoughtful man, content to wait, but resolved ever to learn, and possessed of that singleness of purpose and simplicity of soul which are the mark of the reverent philosophers and true Christians as well. At times, while singing on these and kindred subjects, Whitman reaches heights of expression unparalleled out of the Hebrew poets. At the real problem of Being he does not halt. And in suggestive thought upon it no poet, certainly in our English tongue (I weigh my words), has spoken more inspiringly and wisely. He is a poet of the fullest present, and in him, in many respects, the future is anticipated. And this brings me, Everard, to another point that I want to insist upon in regard to Walt Whitman. It is the way in which he makes answer to the question, Will science drive out poetry? Walt Whitman seems to be substantially to have solved this question. His poems are not more notable for anything than they are for their absorption of modern scientific thought; and if this can be true I contend that they must be imaginative, truly poetic. For imagination is the main thing in a poem, after all; and what contains so grand as infusion of imagination as the science of today? What I mean by saying that Whitman so wonderfully assimilates science, you will understand well enough if you have gone with me in what I said in my preceding paragraphs in regard to his recognition of the age-long problems of the philosophers. In Walt Whitman we find what Professor Clifford has timely called "cosmic emotion." Beginning with his own soul, as I said, he sees all the processes of nature in the past, and all that are to some in the future, to be intelligible only in the relation they bear to man; and that none is really intelligible except in its human aspect. It is the grand conception of the unity of nature; and it suggests even somewhat dimly the weird conception of the Marble Faun. Donatallos - who shall say there are no such beings in this mysterious world? We, too, like the plants and the birds and the oxen on a thousand hills, are developments in the age-long processes of evolution and decay. He would be something more [?] go, martyr-like, to the [?] for his statement that there is any other difference between us and the beasts that perish than in our wider capacity for appreciation. Our personality is larger. More things fit into it. It has an [?] of activities, and a woderful delicacy of almost universal appreciation. But is it so much in kind that man and beast are different, as in degree? At any rate, is it untrue that we are all brothers? May it not be that Donatello does live? Are you certain that here in us all, in the whippoorwill and the daisy of the field, nay, wherever there is the electric thrill of life, or the [?] living, whether in the pushing blade of grass or the growing child, that there is not a something that makes the whole world kin? It is a feeling such as this that inspires the pervading strain of sympathy which is perhaps the key-note of all Walt Whitman's singing, forming the chief theme of nine tenths that he has written. You saw this in the passage I quoted from "Salut au monde." As he says, "a few carols vibrating through the air" he leaves "for comrades and lovers;" and in the poem "I Hear it was Charged Against Me," he avows that his work is to establish, the wide world o'er, "the institution of the dear love of comrades." Sympathy, equality, democracy are his watchwords; and sympathy, equality and democracy yet again. Am I know, Everard, a word or two before I close upon his manner and style of expression., has forced him into page after page of wretched [?] or dull platitudes. Yet this is not more than can be charged against Wordsworth or many another for that matter. But of too much that he has written that kind of criticism which I mentioned at the start, that he is a "man of original poetic thought, now and then flashing out brilliantly suggestive utterances in struggling prose, utterly devoid, however, of the poetic inevitableness and lilt," is just. He is charged with [?] at the leyden jar is charged electricity. But many of his rough, unhewn lines, all jagged and bristling with the most prosaic catalogue of names and crowding polysyllabic epithets, in higgledy-piggledy succession, while frequently they flash with a noble or truly poetic thought, are but the crude stuff of poetry, needing to be hewed and fashioned into poetic form before they may become presentable. On the other hand, what is he when at his best? Admirably and appropriately grand and effective in expression. Some things he has said as no other poet could say them. In certain of his poems the thought, so startlingly perfect in the medium, seems to impinge directly upon the mind of the reader. Nothing spreads between. One hears this very roar of the storm wind, or feels against his flesh the very sting of the salt brine, or, in that most majestically beautiful and grandly tender poem. "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking," hears the persistent pathos of the lonely bird crying forever over the waters for its mate and sees the thoughtful boy walking in the moonlight on Paumanok's gray beach. When at his best, so perfect is his utterance that we may not say as we say of most poets, that he interprets nature to us. He sees and hears for himself, but so close are we to him that we think his sensations are our own, as they are. These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me. If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing. If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle, they are nothing. If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing. This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is. This is the common air that bathes the globe. Faithfully yours, William Morton Fullerton. P.S. - I have made but two of five points that I had intended to dwell upon. But, contrary to the moral of the old fable of Aesop, [?] locus et tempus homines timados [?] reddet, as far as newspapers are concerned, time and place make timid men circumspect. I have said nothing upon one question that no critic of Walt Whitman can shirk, the raison d'etre of his poems, "The Children of Adam," and of many other kindred subjects I have made no mention. I must simply refer you to John Burroughs' essay, "The Flight of the Eagle," in Birds and Poets, published by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. This is one of the most appreciative that you could find. I do not mention Mr. Stedman's essay because you already know it. Mrs. Gilchrist's estimate, I think, I called to your attention two weeks ago. W.M.F. Edgar L. Davenport is engaged for the Boston Museum Company for next season. rtiser. PRICE FOUR CENTS. who will see him may. The spirit had descended. [?nd] by something more than impersonal [in???] [?nce], by an illumination of reason, by a divine [???uasion] and by a personal presence was ac[?]ually making the whole personality of Christ in [?s] sweet, commanding, majestic eternal truth and grace, live in every believer. The speaker then referred to their subsequent baptisms, and in concluding said:-- Christianity--this is the lesson of our text--is more than a school of penitence and moral discipline. It is a baptism of the Holy Ghost. Accept it; trust it: commit yourself to the Lord Jesus in love and obedience, and it has powers for you and gifts transcending this world of sense and time by which we are enclosed. Without this divine help, this gift of the spirit, even though we may rise to penitence and conscientiousness, and even appropriate the hope of the disciples as they waited for the promise of the father, we shall not enter into blessedness of knowing God in all things as the father of our spirits, loving us as He loves the Son. We are apt to think of Pentecost as repeated only in some season of religious revival. This is a mistake. It does not stand in Christian history as an isolated event, but as the introduction of a new era. It marks by all its signs and in all its meanings a new economy, the dispensation of the spirit, the culmination of God's revelation. Men talk of heresy. There is no heresy today greater or more harmful than a denial of the true meaning of Pentecost. The failure to see that a divine gospel for all mankind must have in it not only the power of motives impressed by the [?etter] of revelation, but the vitality and energy of the same personal love which gave the Son and made the atoning sacrifice, must be the power of the spirit of God and of Christ. And this is the gospel this morning preached to you. God is in Christ reconciling the world by the sacrifice of his Son and the pleadings of his spirit. CANON WILBERFORCE. An Address on Temperance--Difference Between Christianity and Religion. New York, June 19.--A large audience gathered in Chickering Hall this afternoon to hear Canon Wilberforce of England, speak under the auspices of the National Temperance Society. Rev. Dr. T. Dewitt Talmage presided, and introduced the speaker. At his suggestion, the people arose in their seats and waved their handkerchief at the visitor "in Christian salutation." The Canon spoke energetically and rapidly for an hour, and awoke great enthusiasm. Among the things he said were:-- The noblest of enthusiasms is the love of the Lord, and the basest the passion for drink. The only thing that Christianity wants just now is Christians. There are too many people with too much religion to enjoy the world, and too many with too much worldliness to enjoy religion. I feel that in speaking in New York I am speaking to America, and America is the great Anglo-Saxonizing machine of the whole universe; and I wish to warn you not to let the liquor traffic control America as it controls England. There is an aristocracy in this country, but it is an aristocracy of intellectual power of character, beauty and of grace. In England we put our big brewers in the house of commons, instead of putting them in jail, as they do in Maine. In Maine they lock up the liquor before it gets into a man, while in New York you only lock it up after. There must be no compromise, no high license, but absolute and universal prohibition. Talk about destroying an industry! Why in Scotland there is an establishment that turns over every year £1,500,000 and employs 150 men. The same capital invested in iron manufacturing in Sheffield would give work to 1500 men, and in cotton would employ 11,000 persons. Any person who says that prohibition would hurt industry lies under the greatest mistake of his life. I don't know anything about your politics, but I beseech you not to let this question become one of politics. Don't place it at the mercy of political intriguers. I believe some of you retain something of affection for the old mother country, and I want you to know how badly off we are. You could not stand it if you were as badly off. Your climate is more exciting and you would have delirium tremens before we do in England. Cards, countersigned by the canon and inscribed with a pledge and a prayer for strength, were distributed, and a collection to aid a chapel for the poor, which Canon Wilberforce conducts at home, was then taken up. TRAIN ROBBERY IN THE WEST. Mail Pouches Cut, Cars Searched and $10,000 in Booty Taken Away. Houston, Tex., June 18.--A daring train robbery was perpetrated at 1:30 o'clock this morning a short distance from Schulenberg, on the Southern Pacific Railroad. As the train drew up at the station, two men mounted the engine, covered the engineer with revolvers and compelled him to pull the train out to the open prairie a few hundred yards to the east, where a fire was burning, around which stood eight or 10 men armed with Winchester rifles. The two robbers on the engine stood guard over the man at the throttle, while the others went through the mail, express and passenger cars. Nearly all the passengers were asleep. The first man tackled by the thieves was W. Newburger of New York, whom they struck on the head with a revolver. They secured from him $75 in cash and several diamonds and a gold watch, all valued at about $1000. All of the passengers lost what valuables they had. It is difficult to form an estimate of the amount of money and jewelry secured. Wells, Fargo & Co.'s express car was gone through, but the amount of money taken from it cannot be ascertained. No mail route agent was on the train, but the through mail pouches in the express car were all cut open and their contents appropriated. The total amount secured by the robbers is put down at $8000 or $10,000. The Growing Grain. Chicago, June 19.-- The Farmers' Review says: At this date of writing the winter wheat crop in all sections has so nearly a state of maturity that reports show no change in its condition, and none will take place until hail, insects or rust damage the ripening grain. Eight winter wheat growing States report an average of the crop at 89 per cent. Our reports on its condition in the different States is as follows: Twenty counties in Illinois report an average condition of 89 per cent. Insects and drought are little complained of; eight counties in Indiana report an average condition of 91 degrees; Kansas counties report no improvement in the crop. Damage by insects is very serious in Marshall, Smith, Franklin and Neosho counties. Kentucky reports an average condition of 96 per cent with damage by insects in Hardin County. Michigan reports an average condition of 93. Missouri counties report the average condition at 100 per cent. Ten counties in Ohio report a condition of 68 per cent. Seven counties in Wisconsin place the average at 93 per cent with damage by chinch bugs in Portage County. The condition of spring wheat in different States is as follows: Wisconsin counties report an average condition of 63 per cent, 17 counties in Iowa place the average at 84 per cent, 11 Minnesota counties report 87 per cent, nine Nebraska counties place the average at 90 per cent and six counties in Dakota report average of 99 per cent. The condition of the oat crop from drought and insects is everywhere below the average. Corn prospects are first class. Hay and grass short from drought. Fruit prospects fair. MORE THAN 100 DROWNED. Terrible Disaster to Pilgrims on the Danube. Pesth, June 18.-- While a party of 250 pilgrims were crossing the Danube near Paks, the boat on which they were making the passage was caught in a hurricane and capsized. Only a few of the party were saved. Over 100 bodies have been recovered. The College Boat Crews. New London, Conn., June 19.-- The crews of the University of Pennsylvania arrived this morning. Their headquarters are at the Crocker House. The first race of the series will be in a four-mile straightaway between Columbia and Harvard University crews, and will take place on Thursday of this week. The Pennsylvanias will row Yale the following day. Leslie, the Philadelphia Defaulter, Arrested. Philadelphia, June 18.-- Henry V. Leslie, the defaulting secretary of the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal Company, who, with J. A. Wilson, the former treasurer of the same company, fled last July with a large sum of money, was taken into custody today. A Labor Ticket in Kentucky. Louisville, Ky., June 18.-- At La Grange, Ky., today, after much squabbling, the union labor party of Kentucky placed a full ticket in nomination, to be voted upon at the coming state election, headed by A. H. Cargin of Crittendon for governor. ANDOVER UNDAUNTED. LEGAL MEASURES TO BE TAKEN IMMEDIATELY. Professor Smyth will Undoubtedly Stay Where He Is--The Plan of Campain as Outlined by Those Who Know. Andover, June 18.--"Professor Smyth? We'll take care of him." That is what a member of the board of trustees said within two minutes after the decision in the heresy case was made known yesterday. The words were spoken in haste, no doubt, but they expressed exactly "the sober second thought" as well as the excited first thought of, not one only, but 12, or all but one of the board upon whose broad shoulders rests the general management of the seminary. The whole situation has become definite; purposes have been formed, methods of procedure determined, and the initial steps taken; all within about 40 hours from the time when the fateful envelopes were handed around. To begin with: Two simultaneous and parallel appeals will be taken to the supreme court; one by the board of trustees and the other by Professor Smyth. The trustees will appeal against what they regard as the usurpation by the visitors of functions properly belonging to the trustees. Professor Smyth will appeal on the ground that in numerous respects the proceedings have been illegal and unjust. Of course the supreme court cannot undertake to settle theological disputes, and will not be asked to do so. More and more the evidence accumulates that theological disputes had very little to do with the decision. A great number of exceptions were taken by the lawyers on the trial; but the gravest points raised before the court will probably be in regard to facts that have come to light since then. One of these will be the partisanship of a member of the board of visitors, exhibited in various, sometimes in shameless ways. The circumstance that the enemies of Professor Smyth openly boasted immediately after the election of a certain visitor that he was on their side, taken in connection with the means used to secure his election, will very likely come under the notice of the court. Whether or not a certain visitor is qualified and capable int he eye of the law to discharge the duties of the great trust committed to him is a question which the court may be called upon to answer. Very grave doubt exists whether the decision, supposing it to have been rendered by men all of whom are qualified for their places and holding their places in other respects rightfully, is, after all, a legal decision. It is thought to be self-contradictory and invalid through its absurdity. The statutes under which the visitors act do not give them any such discretion as would permit the condemning of one professor and the acquittal of another on the same charges, sustained by the same evidence. There were five separate indictments and must have been five separate votes. Professor Smyth's case was first on the list. The vote was that the evidence proved him guilty. But four subsequent votes on the four following cases declared that the same evidence was not sufficient to sustain the same charges. This was, in reality, a reversal of the first decision. It will be claimed with confidence that the final action of the visitors having been to the effect that the charges were not sustained, that action must be held to apply to all the professors involved. These are some of the grounds on which the findings of the board will be contested. But even if on these and all the other exceptions taken the court should decide against Professor Smyth, there are still more radiant measures in contemplation, and of whose success little doubt is entertained. The five professors authorize the statement that not one of them will accept an acquittal which is not an acquittal of all the others. They will stay or go together. And all the professors who have not been accused are now, as they have been from the first, in the most complete accord with their brethren on the question of the latter remaining and continuing to teach the truth as God gives them to see it. The most perfect harmony prevails among the entire corps of instructors. Indeed, some of the most effective and energetic work for the purpose of overturning the work of the visitors is being done by those professors who were not put on trial. As for the next year: Everything will go on the same as usual. Professor Smyth will remain and do his accustomed work. Rev. Frank Woodruff, whose election to the chair of Greek literature the visitors negatived, will continue as before. And this is a good place, in this progress of my letter, to remark that men who know what they are talking about, and mean all they say, have announced this irrevocable decision: Egbert C. Smyth, D.D., is going to remain a professor in Andover Theological Seminary. The question so often and anxiously asked, "How did President Seelye vote?" seems to be now conclusively, though curiously, answered. On Friday morning a telegraphic message was sent to him at Amherst as following: "Impression sought to be made here that vote removing Smyth was unanimous. Is that true?" After some delay the answer came by wire: "No question possible if the finding is carefully read." A careful reading of those documents reveals the fact that when Dr. Eustis voted, as in the case of Professor Smyth, the charges were sustained, but that when he did not vote, as in the four other cases, the charges were not sustained. As it is incredible, and no one has even imagined such a thing, that President Seelye voted one way in one case and another way in the other cases, the conclusion is inevitable that he voted for the acquittal of all the professors. A very remarkable fact is that by the statute of the seminary, if one visitor fails to vote, on account of absence or for any other reason, and the chairman votes one way and the other visitor the opposite way, the question shall be held to have been decided in favor of the side for which the chairman voted. In consequence of this fact, the result in the case of the four professors was not, as some have supposed, a mere letting of their cases go by default. They were definitely and decisively exonerated. And, at the same time, as has been suggested, it was officially, distinctively and by final vote declared that the beliefs and teachings complained of are not in violation of the seminary's creed. Professor Smyth has already, notwithstanding the fact that the news of the decision has been published only a few hours, begun to receive a perfect avalanche of letters, all of them expressing the utmost indignation and contempt for the silly and cowardly action taken against him. These letters offer unstinted sympathy and aid, at the same time that they express entire confidence in a speedy and complete victory for the cause of Christian liberty. To su up the situation, I should say that the trustees, Professor Smyth, the four other respondents, the remaining professors, and a host of friends are all standing firmly together, vigorously getting ready for the defense of what they believe to be a God-given trust; that they see an abundance of light ahead, and that, so far from being cast down are they they only a sense of the gravity of their work prevents them from being jubilant. M.C.A. The Funeral of Dr. Hopkins. Springfield, June 19.--The funeral of Dr. Hopkins will be attended in the Congregational church at Williamstown Tuesday at 5 P.M., not Thursday as was announced in a despatch Saturday night. President Carter, Professor E. H. Griffin and Rev. A. C. Sewall of Schenectady, N.Y., recently pastor at Williamstown, will share in the simple services. Chicago Boodlers Convicted. Chicago, June 18.--The jury in the "boodle" case has brought in a verdict of guilty against McGaugle and McDonald. The penalty was fixed at three years' imprisonment in the penitentiary. Storage Batteries, Made by the Electrical Accumulator Co. of New York, For supplying the Incandescent Light in Private Houses, Office Buildings, Factories, Railroad Cars, Towns, etc.; also valuable as an auxiliary to any direct electric lighting plant. Estimates and further information to the trade and others on application to J.T. Moriarty 19 Pearl Street, Boston. ju20-MW 26t(1)b7col[*Boston Herald*] SUNDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1881. "LEAVES OF GRASS." The Complete Poems of Walt Whitman As Published by a Famous Boston House. A Friendly Characterization of the Poet's Work. When a great man gets ahead of the world he has but to wait quietly and the world will come around to where he is. When Walt Whitman was welcomed to Olympus a quarter of a century ago, his greatness was as secure as it is today, when he is acknowledged by the people whose greatness inspires his verse. In all quarters of the Union, North, South, East and West, Walt Whitman has the warmest personal friends who, if they have not met him face to face, have felt the grasp of his hand in his words. No other man has expressed his personality so strongly in his poems. One of the best characterizations of "Leaves of Grass" is that of a lady, who said: "It does not read like a book ; it seems like a man." The publication of the complete poems of Walt Whitman by one of the leading publishers of the United States is a literary event, for through it the greatest American poet has come to the birthright denied him so long. It has, indeed, mattered little to him, for he has bided his time patiently and serenely, and when such captains of the mind as Emerson and Tennyson reached out their hands in friendly recognition, he could rest satisfied that the multitude would some day acknowledge the prophet hailed by those leaders. The date of the following lines seem remote enough : CONCORD, Mass., July, 1855. Dear Sir: I am not blind to the worth of the wonderful gift of the "Leaves of Grass." I find it the most extraordinary piece of wit and wisdom that America has yet contributed. I am very happy in reading it, as great power makes us happy. It meets the demand I am always making of what seemed the sterile and stingy nature, as if too much handiwork or too much lymph in the temperament were making our western wits fat and mean. I give you joy of your free and brave thought. I have great joy in it. I find incomparable things said incomparably well, as they must be. I find the courage of treatment which so delights us, and which large perception only can inspire. I greet you at the beginning of a great career, which yet must have had a long foreground somewhere for such a start. I rubbed my eyes a little to see if this sunbeam were no illusion, but the solid sense of the book is a sober certainty. It has the best merits, viz. fortifying and encouraging. I did not know, until I last night saw the book advertised in a newspaper, that I could trust the name as real and available for the postoffice. I wish to see my benefactor, and have felt much like striking my tasks and visiting New York to pay you my respects. R. W. EMERSON. Though these words were afterward somewhat taken back — a little Galileo-like, through fear of the New England pope called prudery— it was the true Emerson who spoke his heart then. "Leaves of Grass" have been harvested several times and bound in sheaves of various form, from the quaint first edition, which was, both body and soul, the work of Walt Whitman, to that of the New York publisher who was so frightened at what he had done that he BACKED OUT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE ; that of the Boston publisher, which has been the standard for many years because of the limited demand ; the personal edition published by the poet himself ; one or more English editions, and now at last the edition just published by James R. Osgood & Co., a compact volume of 382 pages, with all the elements of attractive typography, binding form and price needed for the great popular success which his work is sure to achieve. That beside its assured hearty reception the book will be much maligned and ridiculed is a matter of course, for as it is read more so will there be more opposition to its lessons. But it is a test of greatness that ridicule it as much as you will, the ridicule will not stick. Walt Whitman has survived the great storms that have assailed him, and his fame is secure from the pattering of little showers. The new edition contains all his poems; the only changes that have been made are in the way of condensation of utterance. There are, also, something like 20 new poems printed direct from the manuscript. There is more of a rounding and completeness of the work; the all-embracing patriotism which forms one of the poet's grandest characteristics is more comprehensive than ever before manifested. Walt Whitman did yeoman service for the Union in the hospitals of the field during the war, and he loves the whole Union. He has a warm place in his heart for the South, and it is manifested on many pages of his new edition, He writes; " I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise, Regardless of others, ever regardful of others, Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man, Stuff'd with the stuff that is coarse and stuff'd with stuff that is fine, One of the nation of many nations, the smallest the same and the largest the same, A southerner soon as a northerner." The titles of a number of the poems have been changed, notably that of the great poem of the work, that which strikes the key-note of the volume, "Walt Whitman," being now known as "Song of Myself." At the beginning of this song is a portrait of the poet as he was when "Leaves of Grass" was gestating, a steel engraving from an old daguerreotype taken in 1856 when Walt Whitman was 37 years old. He was then a carpenter, building and selling cottage houses in Brooklyn, and the picture was taken impromptu one warm June afternoon by Gabriel Harrison. The picture is well described by the lines: "Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game, and watching and wondering at it." THE OLD OBJECTIONS will, of course, be brought up. Many will say they agree with the ideas, but what is the use of printing them in the shape of poetry? Because it reads better that way, and it is poetry of the noblest kind, may be answered. Why is it that so many still insist that conventional form is necessary to poetry? Do they admire the flowers most, or the vase? In Milton's day many maintained that "Paradise Lost" was not a poem because it was not in rhyme. In the "Leaves of Grass" the blades are of unequal length, but they are ever fresh and beautiful, and full of sweet nutriment. Thought, and truth, and strength, and nobility, and grand proportions, whose symmetry belittles inequalities of metre, are all there, and rythmic swing is there. Is anything more needed for poetry? One of the great features of Walt Whitman is that he does not seek his ideals in far-away times, which, stripped of their glamor of remoteness, are but as the times of today; or, in supreme moments, he idealizes the commonplace, and has the clearness of vision that discerns the gleam of gold through all the accumulated dross. The large and magnificent tolerance that includes all and allows for all, and finds a place for all, is a sublime characteristic of the man. There is so much in these lines that they cannot be packed into layers of equal length. The book teems with the ecstasy of being. The statement of details into which the poet now and then drops has been criticised as "cataloguing." But viewed with the poet's intention, what a mosaic picture of the people, of the nation and its races, is thus constituted ! One sees the stir and hears the hum of the entire land; feels the pulse of the multitude. What is the use of attempting to depict such a thing - it can't all be shown. But the effect is like a gleam of sunshine in the depths of a forest; it reveals many things with vivid distinctness; there is a vast reserve of hidden things which might be seen, but enough is shown to tell what is there - to give the character of the place. Do not these fragments, picked from different parts of the country, at random, give an idea of what the life of that country is: "The groups of newly-come immigrants cover the wharf or levee, As the woolly pates hoe in the sugar field, the overseer views them from his saddle, The bugle calls in the ballroom, the gentlemen run for their partners, the dancers bow to each other, The youth lies awake in the cedar-roof'd garret and harks to the musical rain, The wolverine sets traps on the creek that helps fill the Huron, The squaw, wrapt in her yellow-hemm'd cloth, is offering moccasins and bead bags for sale, the connoisseur peers along the exhibition gallery with half-shut eyes bent sideways." THE WANT OF ARTISTIC GRACE in form is compensated for by the artistic picturesqueness of form. In a measure, the poet makes pictures of his poems, and thus strengthens their individuality. For instance, the frequent use of italics and parentheses and the choice of odd words now and then - a bit of Spanish or French. Camerado and Libertad are favorites. These foreign words and phrases seem to depict unassimilated fragments floating on the life-current of the nation. Many intelligent people fail to comprehend; they can't see what the poet is driving at - it is all so strange and unwonted, or unlike previous models. They get too close to the canvass; they see nothing but paint and brush marks; they do not take it all in - they do not see the picture. What a daring use of color! Only a strong man could wield such a brush. Should a weaker man attempt such bold figures, he would make himself ridiculous; it would seem like affectation, as it would should he wear unconventional dress. But Walt Whitman can carry it off. He looks exceedingly well in his broad hat, wide collar and suit of modest gray. We all want more freedom of movement, but he can afford to take it, and is not afraid. Read this vivid description of a sunrise: "To behold the day-break! The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate, Hefts of moving world at innocent gambols silently rising, freshly exuding, Scooting obliquely high and low, Something I cannot see puts upward libidinous prongs. Seas of bright juice suffice heaven." And this from one of the many pictures of death: "And as to you, corpse, I think you are good manure, but that does not offend me, I smell the white roses sweet-scented and growing, I reached to the leafy lips, I reach to the polish'd breasts of melons," There is much that will not be understood by many, much to which many will object but as willing guests who approach a bountifully spread table, upon which are dishes which some like and some dislike, and others again can learn to like - there is enough of grandeur and beauty and truth, so that every body can TAKE AWAY SOMETHING TO HIS TASTE. The poems are not to be accepted too literally, and the poet understood to be doing or wishing to do everything which is spoken of under the cover of the first person - he simply expresses his capacity to feel universally; he impersonates all humanity in himself, puts himself in its place, and surveys the universe from his standpoint - as everyone is to himself the central point of the world. "I do not say these things for a dollar, or to fill up the time while I wait for a boat. (It is you talking just as much as myself, I act as the tongue of you. Tied in your mouth in mine it begins to be loosen'd)." Walt Whitman is the poet of evolution - modern science finds its prophet in him. He conjoins materialism with ideality. He is religious in the largest sense. "Each is not for its own sake. I say the whole earth and all the stars in the sky are for religion's sake. I say no man has ever yet been half devout enough. None has ever yet adored or worship'd half enough. None has begun to think how divine he himself is, and how certain the future is." The course of the "Song of Myself" is like that of a noble drama, and it has the sublimest moments in its culmination. How sound physical health asserts itself here: "I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd. I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God. Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago. Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth." What an omnisciently and sustained note in the passages beginning with the following: "I heard what was said of the universe. I heard it and heard it of several thousand years; It is middling well as far as it goes--but is that all? Magnifying and applying come I. Outbidding at the start the old cautious hucksters, Taking myself the exact dimensions of Jehovah, Lithographing Kronos, Zeus his son, and Hercules his grandson, Buying drafts of Osiris, Isis, Belus, Brahma, Buddha, In my portfolio placing Manito loose, Allah on a leaf, the crucifix engraved, With Odin and the hideous-faced Mexitli and every idol and image, Taking them all for what they are worth and not a cent more." "I do not despise you priests, all time, the world over, My faith is the greatest of faiths and the least of faiths, Enclosing worship ancient and modern and all between ancient and modern." "Cycles ferried my cradle, rowing and rowing like cheerful boatmen, For room to me stars kept aside in their own rings, They sent influences to look after what was to hold me. Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me, My embryo has never been torpid, nothing could overlay it. For it the nebula cohered to an orb, The long slow strata piled to rest it on, Vast vegetables gave it sustenance, Monstrous sauroids transported it in their mouths and deposited it with care. All forces have been steadily employ'd to complete and delight me, Now on this spot I stand with my robust soul." WAS EVER THE COURSE OF CREATION more concisely and grandly stated? Does it not make old fables turn pale? It is a lofty height from which all this is said down to the world. Taking the national side of the poet, were the local names ever more truthfully and poetically expressed than in the following: "The red aborigines, Leaving natural breaths, sounds of rain and winds, calls as of birds and animals in the woods, syllabled to us for names Okonee, Koosa, Ottawa, Monongahela, Sauk, Natchez, Chattahoochee, Kaqueta, Oronoco, Wabash, Miami, Saginaw, Chippewa, Oshkosh, Walla-Walla, Leaving such to the States they melt, they depart, charging the water and the land with names." It is interesting to note some of the favorite passages of some of the poet's most eminent admirers. The lines previously quoted, "I heard what was said of the universe," are especially admired by J. T. Trowbridge, who knows them by heart. The favorite passage of the late Prof. Clifford, the Englishman, who was one of the first to introduce the poet to transatlantic audiences were the glowing lines to night: "I am he that walks with the tender and growing night, I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night. Press close bare-bosom'd night - press close magnetic nourishing night! Night of south winds - night of the large few stars! Still nodding night - mad naked summer night. Smile O voluptuous cool-breath's earth! Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees! Earth of departed sunset - earth of the mountains misty-topt! Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue! Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river! Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake! Far-swooping elbow'd earth - rich apple-blossom'd earth! Smile, for your lover comes. Prodigal, you have given me love - therefore I to you give love! O unspeakable passionate love." The favorite poem of Charles Sumner's was the first one under the head of "Sea-Drift," the idyll of sunny loveliness, called "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking." The poem is too long to quote here but here is one of its lyrics the song of two mated birds, "Two Feathered Guests from Alabama": Shine! Shine! Shine! Pour down your warmth, great sun! While we bask, we two together. Two together! Winds blow south, or winds blow north, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains from home, Singing all time, minding no time, While we two keep together. Of the poems here collected for the first time that written in Platte cañon, Colorado, amid its awful ruggedness and grandeur is a magnificent justification of the poet's methods: Spirit that form'd this scene, These tumbled rock-piles grim and red, These reckless heaven-ambitious peaks, These gorges, turbulent-clear streams, this naked freshness, These formless wild arrays, for reasons of their own, I know thee, savage spirit--we have communed together, Mine too such wild arrays, for reasons of their own; Was't charged against my chants they had forgotten art? To fuse within themselves its rules precise and delicatesse? The lyrist's measur'd beat, the wrought-out temple's grace-column and polish'd arch forgot? But thou that revelest here - spirit that form'd this scene, They have remember'd thee. IN "ITALIAN MUSIC IN DAKOTA" a charming picture is given of the effect of music on a quiet evening at a solitary frontier post. All familiar with the plains will respond to the chord here struck: Through the soft evening air enwinding all, Rocks, woods, fort, cannon, pacing sentries, endless wilds, In dulcet streams, in flutes' and comets' notes, Electric, pensive, turbulent, artificial, (Yet strangely fitting even here, meanings unknown before, Subtler than ever, more harmony, as if born here, related here, Not to the city's fresco'd rooms, not to the audience of the opera house, Sounds, echoes, wandering strains, as really here at home, Sonnambula's innocent love, trios with Norma's anguish, And thy ecstatic chorus Poliuto;) Ray'd in the limpid yellow slanting sundown, Music, Italian music in Dakota. While Nature, sovereign of this gnarl'd realm, Lurking in hidden barbaric grim recesses, Acknowledging rapport however far remov'd, (As some old root or soil of earth its last-born flower or fruit,) Listens well pleas'd. In the lines to General Grant, returned from his world's tour, he says that what best he sees in him is not the tributes paid to him, but that in his walks with kings the prairie sovereigns of the West, "Invisibly with thee walking with kings with even pace the round world's promenade, were all so justified." Others of these new poems, full of beauty, are "Thou orb aloft full dazzling" (which was rejected by a leading editor last summer, on the ground that his readers would not understand it), "To the Man-of-War Bird," "Patrolling Barnegat," " My Picture Gallery," "The Prairie States," a tribute to Custer's memory called "From far Dakota's cañons," "A Riddle Song," inspired by the mystery of life, and the following tender, referential lines to his mother's memory: AS AT THY PORTALS ALSO, DEATH. As at thy portals also, death, Entering thy sovereign, dim, illimitable grounds, To memories of my mother, to the divine blending, maternity, To her, buried and gone, yet buried not, gone not from me, (I see again the calm benignant face fresh and beautiful still, I sit by the form in the coffin, I kiss and kiss convulsively again the sweet old lips, the cheeks, the closed eyes in the coffin;) To her, the ideal woman, practical, spiritual, of all of earth, life, love, to me the best, I grave a monumental line, before I go, amid these songs, And set a tombstone here. Face to face with lines that approach the grave with such classic nobility of step, who can say that Walt Whitman is not a poet? A thoughtful writer of German birth and education, but living today in America, has said that some of the main features and themes of "Leaves of Grass" may be designated as individuality, inevitable law, physical health, modernness, open-air nature, democracy, comradeship, the indissoluble union, good will to other lands, respect to the past, grandeur of labor, perfect state equality, with modernness like a canopy over all, and a resumption of the old Greek ideas of nudity and the divinity of the body, with the Hebrew sacredness of paternity, while the war, the sea, the night, the south and poems of death are also frequently recurring themes. His treatment of the last-mentioned theme is specially notable in "Memories of President Lincoln." In the stately elegy which begins these memories, "When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd," the threading of the theme shows a high dramatic instinct. As the singer walks the night with the knowledge of death and the thought of death as companions, the warble of the gray-brown bird singing in the swamp the song of death pervades it all. The notes recur like the motive of a sympathy, and at last THE SONG BREAKS FORTH: Come lovely and soothing death, Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving, In the day, in the night, to all, to each, Sooner or later delicate death. Prais'd be the fathomless universe, For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious, And for love, sweet love--but praise! praise! praise! For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death. Dark mother always gliding near with soft feet, Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome? Then I chant it for thee, I glorify thee above all, I bring thee a song that when thou must indeed come, come unfalteringly. The foregoing lines are but a part of the bird song. Another song on the death of Lincoln, "Oh Captain! My Captain!" is already established as a popular American classic. The poet Stedman, in a recent article, used the unfortunate expression that his appreciative criticism on "Walt Whitman," printed in Scribner's some months ago, was churlishly received. The writer chances to know that Mr. Stedman has somehow sadly misapprehended the state of the case. Mr. Whitman has the warmest personal regard for Mr. Stedman, of whom he speaks with a genuine liking, and he felt the real worth of Mr. Stedman's article, but he also felt that Mr. Stedman had failed to grasp the wholeness of the work, though no finer characterization of the parts could be found. "Leaves of Grass" is a kosmos, and the leaving out of that which Mr. Stedman, in common with many, finds objectionable, would make it like an imperfect body. One of the greatest of living authors, in speaking with the writer about that passage in Mr. Stedman's article, where it was stated that nature always covered up her bare and ugly spots, and that, therefore, such did not belong in the field of poetry, said that there were times when nature was bare and ugly, that it was the province of art to be truthful to nature, and that genius could treat these themes without offence. In all Walt Whitman there is no more evil thought than in the sprouting of a bud or the wafting of pollen on the wings of springtime. Fortunately it is based upon a law more stable than the fickle suffrages of the multitude, or the wishes of those who would have had him write differently, and therefore be partially true.The Sunday Herald — Sun Amusements. New Bills This Week at Five City Theatres. Gossip Before and Behind the Curtain. News of the Home and Foreign Stage. Announcements. Changes of bill tomorrow night are an- nounced at five of the eight city theatres. "Michael Strogoff," at the Boston, and "The Colonel," at the Museum, continue on their prosperous course, and promise to run for many weeks to come. Both pieces have been played to overflowing houses ever since their production, and it is as necessary now as it has been heretofore for patrons to apply early in order to obtain seats. It was expected that Miss Geneviève Ward would produce during the second and last week of her engagement at the Globe Theatre, beginning tomorrow, the new play entitled "The Spider's Web," written for her by Hon. Lewis Wingfield; but the success of "Forget- Me-Not" has been so great, and so many re- quests have been made for the continuance of Messrs. Merrivale and Groves' drama, that it has been decided to defer bringing out the new work until later. It is barely possible, however, that "The Spider's Web" may receive one or two representations tow- ard the close of the week, and all who wish to see Miss Ward in her superb impersona- tion of Stephanie de Mohrivart should not fail to make early application for seats, as the advance sale is very large and constantly in- creasing. Two theatres, the Windsor and Gaietry, announce new musical attractions, more particular mention of which will be found in another column under the appro- priate head. At the Park Theatre, during the third and final week of his engagement, Mr. Lawrence Barrett will appear in "Yorick's Love," Mr. W. D. Howells' great play from the Spanish, on Monday and Thursday evenings, "Julius Caesar" on Tuesday, "Hamlet" on Wednes- day afternoon, "Harebell" on Wednes- day evening and Saturday afternoon, "A Counterfeit Presentment" on Friday and "Othello" on Saturday evening. The performance on Wednesday af- ternoon will be for the benefit of the Soldiers' Home fund, Mr. Barrett and his company generously giving their services, and Manager Schoeffel tendering the theatre, with stage hands, attachés, etc., free of charge. Mr. Bar- rett will himself benefit by the performance of Mr. W. D. Howells' charming comedy on Fri- day night. At the Howard Atheneum, Mr. Oliver Doud Byron will reappear tomorrow even- ing in his popular play, "Across the Con- tinent," supported by a full dramatic com- pany, at the head of which is Miss Kate Byron, Ferguson and Mack, the Irish com- edians; Charles A. Gardner, German com- edian and vocalist; John Pendy, Ethiopian comedian; Charles Hagan, Irish vocalist, and other known specialty performers will also appear during the week. At the Boylston Museum a "phalanx of fresh novelties" is announced for tomorrow, and among the performers are the Olympia Quartette, Ya Koob Et Bazoozie, the Arabian sword player, Miss Minnie Lee, Mr. Paul Dresser, the Hull twin sisters, W. H. Vale, James Vane, Edw. Rogers, Minnie Belmont, Fannie Bernard, Edith Andow, Walter Bray and James Roche. Boston Playhouses, Plays and Players. The opening of Gray's National Theatre is announced for Nov. 7. Mr. Thomas W. Keene's engagement at the Park Theatre begins early in January. John McCullough's engagement at the Bos- ton Theatre begins about the middle of Jan- uary. Mr. B. R. Graham has left Mr. Steele Mac- kaye's company. So, too, has Mr. Dominick Murray. Mr. Edwin Arnott has been engaged to play Yuba Bill in "M'lisa" with the McDonough- Fulford combination, now appearing on the New England circuit. Mr. Charles Frobman was in Boston on Friday, en route for New York, where he will assume the management of Haverly's Masto- don minstrels tomorrow. Mr. Mark Allen, the veteran actor and dramatist, is publishing in his paper, the Woburn Advertiser, his dramatization of Jules Verne's "Michael Strogoff." Barry and Fay's comedy company will ap- pear in "Muldoon's Picnic" at the Howard next week. It will be followed by Leavitt's specialty and vaudeville company. It is rumored, and upon good authority, that there is to be a new dramatic paper started in Boston. There certainly appears to be a field for such a venture in this city. Alice Harrison took in $1600 for her week in Boston. Her latest apothegm is: "It is very lonely for young people to be too much alone." We should say so.— Spirit of the Times. Manager Mallory of the Madison Square Theatre, Mr. J. H. Burnett, Mr. Fred Rull- man, Mr. C. T. Parsloe, Mr. J. D. Murphy and Mr. Frank Evans were in town last week. Mlle. Rhea will commence her American tour under R. J. Sargént's management at Booth's Theatre Nov. 28, and will open for one week at the Globe Theatre, this city, Dec. 12. Mr. Nat Goodwin, having concluded not to take Mr. A. G. Gunter's new play, "D. A. M.," the author has sold it to Messrs. Robson and Crane, for whom, it is said, it was first written. Gov. Long has accepted an invitation to be present at the performance of "Hamlet," for the benefit of the Soldiers' Bazaar, by Mr. Lawrence Barrett, at the Park Theatre next Wednesday afternoon. Nick Roberts' "Humpty Dumpty" and Euro- pean specialty troupe, which played a very successful engagement at the Howard last week, will visit our New England neighbors during the coming fortnights. Managers Abbey and Schoeffel have leased a portion of the estate in the rear of the Park Theatre, and will shortly have fitted up in it a private office and a scene room, both of which have long been needed at this establishment. Joseph Jefferson comes to the Globe Thea- tre next week, to appear once more in the ever-popular "Rip Van Winkle." He will give only seven performances, as on Nov. 14 Messrs. Robson and Crane begin an engage- ment. The first week of Miss Mary Anderson's engagement at the Boston Theatre in Febru- ary will probably be given entirely to per- formances of "The Daughter of Roland," Miss Annie E. Ford's adaptation of "La Fille de Roland." Messrs. Tompkins & Hill have made ar- rangements for the production at the Boston Theatre, either in the coming spring or early next season, of a new American spectacular drama by Mr. Henry Pettit, one of the authors of "The World." The Clarke-Gayler "Connie Soogah" com- pany, which last night closed one of the most successful engagements played at the Windsor Theatre this season, will appear in Albany and Troy this week and in Montreal during the week following. Lotta's répertoire at the Park Theatre, com- mencing a week from tomorrow, will be as follows: First week, "Little Nell" and "Zip"; second week, "La Cigale" and "Muzette"; third week, "The Little Detective"; fourth week, the new play, "Bob." It is expected that the new revolving stage at the Park Theatre will be used for the first time at one of this week's performances. The first change of scene will be made with the curtain up, to allow the audience to witness the operation of the mechanism. Hon. Lewis Wingfield was entertained at breakfast at the Vendome on Wednesday morning by Mr. Lawrence Barrett, who in- vited a small party of gentlemen to meet him, among the guests being Messrs. T. B. Aldrich, W. D. Howells and R. M. Field. There was some talk of Mr. Barrett's bring- ing out "Pendragon," the new drama written for him by Mr. W. W. Young, during his cur- rent engagement at the Park Theatre; but he concluded to defer the production until his approaching season at McVicker's Theatre in Chicago. Lotta comes to the Park Theatre next week for a four weeks' engagement, during which she will appear in "Bob," Mr. Fred Marsden's new play, which was successfully produced in Philadelphia last Monday. She will also be seen in "Musette," "Zip" and other of her old plays. Mr. and Mrs. McKee Bankin in "Forty- Nine," Maggie Mitchell, Nat Goodwin's Froliques, Salsbury's Troubadours, the Madi- son Square company in "The Professor," the Union Square company and the Hanlon-Lees, are among the coming attractions at the Park Theatre. Sig. Rossi concluded his engagements on the New England circuit last week, and will open his season at Booth's Theatre, New York, to- morrow evening. Mr. Barton Hill has sev- ered his connection with Wood's Museum in Philadelphia to become the leading man of Sig. Rossi's company. Mr. J. P. Burnett visited Boston last week for the purpose of securing from Mr. Eric Bayley the right to produce "The Colonel," and, having effected the purchase, has started for San Francisco, where his wife (Jennie Lee) is about to begin a six weeks' engage- ment under the management of Mr. Thomas Maguire. During her coming engagement at the Park Theatre, Mme. Janauschek will bring out a new play entitled "Boadicea," written for her by Mr. S. W. Luscomb of Providence. She will also appear in Mr. Salmi Morse's new piece, "The Doctor of Lima," if it proves a success at the Union Square, where she pro- poses shortly to produce it. Mr. Frank Carlos Griffith, whose stage name was his middle name, has deserted the stage to accept the position of the general passenger and ticket agent of the Maryland Southern railroad, with headquarters in Wash- ington. Mr. Griffith is an old Boston boy, and a favorite with all his professional brethren, who wish him good luck most heartily. Mr. Charles Barron, whose admirable im- personation of Col. Woodd in "The Colonel" at the Boston Museum has been so highly complimented by both press and public, has had a very liberal offer from Mr. Eric Bayley to play the part in New York when Mr. Bur nand's delightful comedy is produced there. If Manager Field can spare him, it is probable that he may accept. Mr. Barry E. Dixie received some very flat- tering compliments from the Chicago critics last week for his performance of Syntax, in "Cinderella at School," at the Grand Opera House. The Times says his "lecture would make the production successful, even were there nothing else commendable in the whole of it"; and the Herald observes that it "is one of the most delicious bits of fooling we have seen for many a season." New England Circuit. Walt[?] Nov. 3, 4 [?] [?] [?] Baker and [?]— Springfield, Mass, Oct [] New Haven, Ct, Nov. 4 and 5. Janauschek— Stamford, Ct. Nov. 14; Norwalk, 15, and New England circuit two weeks. Adelina Patti concert company— Providence, R.I., Dec. 16; New Haven, Ct. 20; Hartford, 23. Corinne Merrie-Makers— Providence, R.I., Oct. 31 and week; New Haven, Ct, Nov. 11 and 12. Joseph Jefferson— Hartford, Ct, Nov. 28, 29; New Haven 20 and Dec. 1; Providence, R.I. 2, 3. Wilbur opera company— Brockton, Mass., Jan. 2; Fall River, 3; New Bedford, 4; Providence, R.I., 5, 6, 7. Nick Roberts' "Humpty Dumpty" combination— Salem, Mass., Nov. 2; Gloucester, 3; Lewiston, Me., 12. Boston Museum "Patience" company— New Haven, Ct., Nov 7; Hartford, 8 and 9; Providence, R.I., 10, 11 and 12. Mr. and Mrs. George S. Knight-South Norwalk, Ct., Nov 7; New Haven 10; Gloucester, Mass., 16; Saco, Me., 17; Lewiston, 21. Mitchell's Pleasure Party in "Our Goblins"— South Norwalk, Ct., Nov. 21; Danbury, 22; New Britain, 23; Hartford, 24; New Haven, 25, 26. Nell Burgess' "Widow Bedott" combination— Hartford, Ct., Oct. 31; Springfield, Mass., Nov. 1; Holyoke, 2; Pittsfield, 3; North Adams, 4. Hubert O'Grady's "Eviction" combination— Meri- den, Ct., Oct. 31; New Britain, Nov. 1; Ansonia, 2; Waterbury, 3; Bristol, 4; Fall River, Mass., 5. Madison Square company in "The Professor"— Newport, R.I., Nov. 7; Gloucester, Mass, 10; Chel- sea, 11; Lynn, 12; New Haven, Ct., 18 and 19. Edwin Booth— New Haven, Ct., Nov, 29; Water- bury, 30; Hartford, Dec. 1; Springfield, Mass, 2; Worcester, 3; Boston, [?] four weeks; Fall River, Jan. 2; Providence, R.I., 3, 4. Madison Square "Hazel Kirke" combination No. 2— Great Falls, N. H., Oct. 31; Manchester, Nov. 1; Concord, 2; Lawrence, Mass, 3; Gloucester, 4; Lynn, 5; Holyoke, 7; Springfield, 8; Hartford, Ct., 9; New Haven, 10. Mary Anderson— New Haven, Ct., March 7; Bridge- port, 8; Waterbury, 9; Springfield, Mass., 10; Hol- yoke, 11; Hartford, Ct., 13; Fall River, Mass., 14; New Bedford, 15; Providence, R.I., 16, 17, 18; Worcester, Mass., 20; Burlington, Vt., 21. Annie Pixley "M’Liss" combination— Waltham, Mass., Oct. 31; Brockton, Nov. 1; New Bedford, 2; Fall River, 3; Taunton, 4; Worcester, 5; Willimantic, Ct., 7; Springfield, Mass., 8; Holyoke, 9; Northamp- ton, 10; Waterbury, Ct., 11; South Norwalk, 12. General Gossip. Joseph Jefferson will not act between Jan. 1 and April 1, but will go South for hunting and fishing. Kate Bateman, the famous Leah of other days, is starring in the English provinces in a play called "His Wife." Miss Geneviève Ward, Miss Mary Anderson and Miss Fanny Davenport will shortly begin engagements in Philadelphia on the same date. "The Professor," which has been played at the Madison Square Theatre 151 times, with a profit of over $15,000, will be put on the road this week. "Brighton," Frank Marshall's version of Bronson Howard's "Saratoga," has been re- vived at the London Criterion and is drawing big houses. The reopening of the St. James Theatre, London, which was to have taken place on the 15th inst., was postponed by the sudden and serious indisposition of Mrs. Kendal. George Rignold will soon take Wilson Bar- rett's role in Sims' "Lights o' London" at the Princess' Theatre, London. The Prince and Princess of Wales have been to see the play. It is said that Miss Ella Stockton is shortly to go to London to produce her play of "Mad- cap Violet," which is founded upon William Black's novel of that name. Jean Hosmer, formerly a widely-known and popular actress, is reported by the Buf- falo News to be living in very humble quar- ters in a wretched tenement house in that city. W. J. Ferguson, E. M. Holland, J. G. Saville and John Dillon have been engaged by Man- ager Abbey to play the principal parts in George R. Sims' new piece, "Mother-in-Law" at the New York Park. W. E. Sheridan began his engagement at the Baldwin, in San Francisco, last Monday night, with a performance of "King Lear," in which he was greatly applauded and several times called before the curtain. Mme.. Geistinger gave another example of her great versatility and talent last week, by a remarkable impersonation of Messalina in Wilbrand's tragedy, "Arria and Messalina" at the Thalia Theatre, New York. Samuel Mixon, a supernumerary engaged in "Michael Strogoff" at Niblo's Garden, was seriously wounded in the battle scene on Sat- urday night of last week, by the wad from a gun which struck him in the left thigh. The Spirit of the Times says that Mrs. Edwin Booth is not expected to live from day to day. "Romeo and Juliet," by the company, with Bella Pateman as Juliet, is kept in readiness in case Mr. Booth is obliged to withdraw. "Cherry Ripe," the Florences' new play, re- cently produced for the first time at Toronto, does not appear to have achieved a marked success. Mr. Florence was playing Cap'n Cut- tle in "Dombey and Son" in Rochester last week. Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt, accompanied by Mr. Jarrett, left Paris on the 15th inst., to begin her grand European tour in Belgium, Hol- land, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Russia, Austria, Italy and Switzerland. The tour will last six months. Lhéritier has played continuously for 50 years on the stage of the Palais Royal, Paris, and, during that period, he has created and resuscitated parts in 362 pieces. This "cin- quantenaire" was celebrated at the Palais Royal on the 15th inst. H.J. Byron will, in the course of the win- ter, deliver a lecture at the London Institution on "The Border Line between Farce and Comedy." The Figaro thinks no one better qualified to speak on this subject, for no one has oftener crossed the border. John Lee, in whose arms the famous trage- dian Edmund Kean breathed his last, and who was himself famous many years ago in the part of Alfred Jingle in the earliest dramatiza- tion of "The Pickwick Papers," has just died in London at the age of 86 years. Adeline Stanhope, who accompanied her husband, Amory Sullivan, on his return to England, is looking for a chance to produce in London "Nora's Vow," by Emma Schiff, "The Adventuress," by T. S. Amory (Amory Sullivan), and "An American Wife." The Paris Figaro gives a list of plays adapted from the French by Mr. Boucicault and Mr. Tom Taylor, among which occur "The Hidelen Hand," "Villord Copse," "Anny Blake" (in which the intelligent reader may, perhaps, recognize "Andy Blake") and "Use Up." The regular season at the Union Square Theatre will begin on Nov. 14, and "The Lights o' London" will be produced during Thanksgiving week. Mr. Palmer has also on hand for production several adaptations of French plays and a new American drama. Alexandre Dumas has refused to dramatize Mme. Adam's novel "Laide" as he says the scenario is too dangerous. If he decides to write anything more for the stage it will prob- ably be a drama called "l'Invisible," which he has had in his mind for some years past. "Royal Youth" has proved another unfor- tunate speculation with Augustin Daly, and was withdrawn yesterday to make way for "Frou-Frou." A new comedy entitled "The Passing Regiment," adapted from Van Mo- ser's "Krieg in Frieden," will soon be pro- duced. At the Théâtre Français, "La Princesse de Bagdad" is alternating on the bills with "Le Monde où l'on S'Ennuie." Paul Deroulede, author of "L'Hetman," is completing for this theatre a new drama in verse, entitled "Le Sang du Tzar." Victor Hugo's "Angelo" is soon to be revived. Mlle. Rhéa, Harry Sargent's new star, ar- rived in New York from Europe on Monday evening last, and has since been liberally "in- terviewed" by the press. She says she will appear during her coming American tour in "Adrienne Lecouvreur," "Much Ado About Nothing," "Camille," and "Diane de Lys." The title of Sardou's new comedy, soon to be brought out at the Paris Vaudeville, is "Odette," and the subject dealt with in its four acts is the false position created for her ex-husband and children by a separated wife who is something worse than a coquette. Probably the moral is a plea for the divorce law. "Mankind; or, Beggar Your Neighbor," Paul Merritt and George Conquest's new melodrama recently produced at the Surrey Theatre, London, is said to resemble "The World" and "Truth" in some respects, but to have sufficient originality and rude strength to carry it through a long run in the theatre where it is played. J.H. Haverly has bought the rights (outside New York and New England), scenery, cos- tumes and properties of the Colville version of "Michael Strogoff," and will inaugurate his management of the California Theatre next month by the production of this famous play. The price paid is said to have been $30,000. Charles A. Stevenson is a happy father, his wife (Kate Claxton) having presented him with a bouncing boy last Monday evening. Byrne's Dramatic Times says that Mr. Steven- son will sail for Ireland in about a fortnight, to see his father, who is reported in failing health, but will return to take the road with his wife and "Two Orphans" the last of next month. "A Thread of Silk," Arthur Matthison's comedy from the French (originally produced by Mrs. Howard Paul at Liverpool, shortly before her death, and the American right to which is owned by John T. Raymond), will be brought out at the Crystal Palace (Syden- ham) on Nov. 3. The author, Edward Righton, Robert Brough, Rose Leclereq and Mrs. Bil- lington will be in the cast. Along in the fifties two young girls, the Bennett sisters, were dancing between acts at the National. One of them married Mr. Wil- liam Hogan, the keeper of a restaurant on the corner of Race and Third streets, and, for a time, retired from the stage. A year or so after her marriage she went on the road with Bob Miles' Uncle Tom combination, playing "Topsy," and took her young babe with her. The little kid soon became the pet of theCamden 1889 Saturday early pm June 1 - Well here I am, feeling fairly, commencing my 71st year. The dinner last evening came off & went off, all right & was a great success - They say they had a mighty good dinner (nothing to drink but Apollinaris water) - I was not at the eating part, but went an hour later - Ed wheel'd me in the chair & two policemen & two other good fellows just carried me from the sidewalk, chair & all as I sat, up the stairs & turning (which were fortunately wide & easy) to the big banquet hall & big crowd, where I was roll'd to my seat, & after being rec'd with tremendous cheering, they bro't me a bottle of first rate champagne & a big glass with ice. (Tom Harned sent to his house for the wine) - The whole thing was tip top & luckily I felt better & more something like myself, and nearer chipper than for a year - I made a short talk, wh' you will see in the paper I enclose - also Herbert's speech - It was largely a home & neighbors' affair (wh' I liked) although there were (& speeches from) outsiders - The compliments & eulogies to me were excessive & without break - But I fill'd my ice-glass w'h the good wine & pick'd out two fragrant roses fr'm a big basket near me, & kept cool & jolly & enjoy'd all - I suppose you have the pocket-book copy L of G wh' I mailed yesterday - have just sold one & got the 5 for it - Hamlin Garland has been to see me to-day - also Tom Harned - The Phila: papers have long reports - a little rainy & broken to-day, but pleasant - Walt WhitmanCamden 1889 June 4 1 pm - Suppose you got the papers &c: with report of the dinner, speeches, &c: - quite a success, a great crowd, mark'd enthusiasm & yet a sort of Quaker (even Greek) no: no hifalutin excess over all - the project now is to have all, speeches, &c: printed in full in a handsome 72 page booklet (50 cts) pub'd by Dave McKay - Suppose you got the pocket-book b'd copy of L of G - Felt better than usual & very phlegmatic (fortunately) Friday evn'g - & ever since - not quite so well to-day - — weather heavy, damp, cloudy to-day - have been feasting on strawberries (a big basket f'm my sister Lou, the best I ever saw) - We are all gloomy here, f'm the dreadful cataclysm in Cambria county, Penn: the more we hear, the worse & more destructive & deadly it proves - June 5 11 am - Have just come out of the bath room - feeling fairly leaning toward better today - breakfast of rice-&-mutton soup, & asparagus galore - fine sunny day, not warm - A long good letter Chicago from a western soldier boy of twenty four years ago, was with me a good deal, bringing back hospital & war scenes of long ago - have not heard f'm Mrs: O'C - send her the Boston or other paper most every day - have rec'd a good letter & gift from two friends in Bolton, England - Did I tell you I rec'd a handsome birthday gift (all lump'd) from Edward Carpenter, two sisters named Ford, (Leeds) & others? Good wishes to Mrs: B and all the childer - Yr's ab't the ball &c: rec'd - I believe Herbert G. expects to return to London next September. Ed and Horace well - I go out in the wheel chair Walt Whitmanyr's of 3rd came - acknowledging pocket-b'k ed'n L of GCamden 1889 June 5 p m - Fine weather, sunny, not hot & I feel well for me - good sound sleep last night & rest & quiet (bad enough the previous day & night) - appetite, bowels &c: fair continued - have rec'd a letter f'm Mrs. O'C - enclosed - - yr's came safely - the "Camden Compliment " little book copy goes into the printers, Ferguson's hands to-day I believe - is to be frontispieced by a photo (wh' I do not like but the others do, & this is not my funeral) of Morse's bust (wh' I do like) - There is a good deal in the text wh' will please you I guess June 6 - Fine weather - sun shining - bad spell resumed - got out in the wheel chair last sunset to river side (full tide fine) - nearly two hours - sat there by the edge in my chair - saw the sun set over Phila: June 7 - Sunday forenoon - Fine sunny weather continued - bad spell quite decided - rec'd y'r prescription & shall use it this noon - thanks - - Ed is just making up the bed - nothing very new - McKay goes off (for 4 or 5 weeks) on a business & drumming tour west - quiet forenoon here - Walt WhitmanCamden 1889 Saturday noon June 8 - Suppose you got the little poem in NY World June 7 I sent - Was specially requested by the editor & written in an hour & a half & sent on to NY by mail the same evn'g 6th - I believe I told you I am to get $25 for it - We are all here yet under the depression of the fearful cataclysm, so deadly, so near - - Cloudy & dull weather - bowel action to day - - yr's rec'd - I see you like the pocket-b'k ed'n of L of G - yes I am satisfied with it everything but the press work - McK's current ed'n including Annex is well printed - McKay is to start off on a long business & drumming tour west - goes in three weeks, will be away two months - - My worst present botheration is this catarrhal or head gathering, half [ache] ache, half heavy weight & discomfort - fortunately I sweat pretty easily & often - I fancy it is good for me - weather variable - coolish just now. I enclose a letter to me from John Burroughs, - and one from an old soldier boy - lately rec'd Sunday 9th am Rather a warm night, temperature changed greatly at ev'ng, but I must have slept fairly warm to-day here - breakfasted on rice-&-mutton-broth & asparagus & some Graham bread & coffee - fair bowel action this forenoon - rather "under the weather" yesterday & this forenoon (but of course it will move off cloud like) - a good Illinoisian & wife came to see me last evening - bo't a big book - (enthusiastic ab't L of G) rec'd a letter from Mary Costelloe - all well - - I am writing a little - "poemets" - one yesterday - - what names (if any) in Canada, send me them of great wealthy public bequeathors or benefactors, like our Girard and Johns Hopkins? I want to make a piece ab't 'em & put names in - towards noon - sun out - a fine June day - W WCamden 1889 Friday noon June 14 - Cloudy, warm pleasant - feeling fairly (the main bother is this catarrhal or whatever it is head malady, quite bad much of the time) Herbert Gilchrist here last evening - - bowel action sufficient & regular at present - - go out in my wheel chair toward latter part of afternoon Saturday, toward sundown - A brisk rattling thunder shower - (will probably change the temperature) - have relish'd my supper a bit of beef steak & some bread pudding - if it were not for this "cold in the head" I w'd feel quite tolerable - rainy & warm & no getting out for me in the wheel chair to-day - n'importe - thankful for feeling as well as I do Sunday 16th near noon - Have had a bath & am going in wheel chair to Harneds', to lunch, & spend a couple of hours - (The family goes off in the mountains next Wednesday) Pleasant here, but pretty warm - yr's rec'd - - have been reading the NY and Phil. Sunday papers - Sitting here in 2d story, Mickle - alone - Best love to all Walt WhitmanCamden July 3 noon '89 Easier slightly - continue to eat & sleep fairly - weather continues rainy warm unhealthy (now 4th day) - fair bowel action every 2d or 3d day - haven't taken any medicine in a long time - (no doctors here 3 or 4 months) - sent the big b'k to my late German friendly critic, Edw'd Bertz, Potsdam - As I conclude the sun shines out - Wrote yesterday to Mrs. O'C & sent "Unity" Walt Whitman(Postmark) Camden, N.J. Jul 3 8pm 89 Dr Bucke Asylum London Ontario CanadaCamden Noon June 23 '89 Sunny, cool, first rate day— Every thing much the same in my condition &c. Have heard nothing from Mrs. O'C at Wash'n—go down by the river most every day in the wheel chair & sit an hour when the weather is agreeable—the two principal summer months now July & August to confront—what they will bring we shall duly see WW(Postmark) Camden, N.J. Jun [?3] 5pm 89 Dr Bucke Asylum London Ontario CanadaCamden pm June 6 '89 yr's comes to day — As you ought to have rec'd the papers, & something may have happened with them, I send others with this mail — nothing especial or new — Have the last two hours, (& just sent off) been waiting "Voice f'm Death" the Cambria Co: Cataclysm here, wh' they last night sent for (& off'd $25 for) — to appear I believe in N. Y. World of to-morrow— Walt Whitman(Postmark) Camden, N.J. Jun 6 8pm 89 Dr Bucke Asylum London Ontario CanadaCamden Sunday Evn'g June 2 '89 All goes well— the feeling pretty good Friday even'g continues. Suppose you rec'd the pocket-book b'd L of G — I sent you yesterday three or four papers with lengthy reports of dinner &c — Every body says it was a mark'd success — It is well toward sunset & I am going out for an hour in the wheel chair, (wh' proves a great comfort) — — fine sunny weather Walt WhitmanCAMDEN, N.J. JUN 2 5 PM 89 Dr Bucke Asylum London Ontario CanadaCamden noon July 10 '89 Fearful heat here now a week & at present looks like continued — thro' wh' tho' I get along better than you m't suppose, — Am taking the tonic — it (or something) relieves me the last two days of the worst of the weakness, caving-in & head inertia — — but I feel it, the dose, for an hour after taking in my head & stomach very perceptibly & very uncomfortably — bowel action yesterday & also this forenoon quite good — Ed stands it first rate — a note f'm Kennedy this mn'g enclosed — nothing notable. — he is half ill tho' this summer — nothing ab't his book. - the printers are working at Horace's dinner book — — Have been dipping in the new French book Amiel's Journal Intime translated by Mrs: Humphrey Ward. He is evidently an orthodox conservative determined to stand by his (moth-eaten) colors. Tho' modern science & democracy draw the earth from under his very feet He is constantly examing discussing himself like a health-seeker dwelling forever on his own stomach — I heard it was a great book & going to be established. — but I say NO to both—he is one of those college pessimistic dudes Europe (& America too) sends out — — I am sitting here in my big chair — every thing still — just drank a great drink of iced lemonade (pleasant but non-healthy) — After a New York boy's slang. I conclude by sending you good roots Walt WhitmanCamden Saturday noon July 13 '89 Cloudy (rainy last night)—still hot—still eat & sleep fairly—take the tonic—y'r letter ab't Mrs O'C rec'd—doubt whether it w'd suit her—such a plan—am not moved to it favorably— —most things are bad enough with me but I am blessed thankful they are no worse & that I get along as well as I do—am getting along better than you suppose—rec'd a letter & I enclose it from John Burroughs His address for twelve days will be Hobart N.Y. —The printing of Horace's little book is progressing. —I am writing nothing—stretch'd out on the bed half the time fanning away the flies &c—not down ill but not far from that—some blackberries & a rare egg for my breakfast Sunset—Have had my supper & relish'd it—send this hence Camden (to Phila) 8 pm July 13—see & itemize to me, when it reaches you— —over an hour's rain latter afternoon—I am feeling fairly—sweating—Well we must have a turn in the temperature presently—perhaps to-night Best regards & love to Mrs B and all Walt WhitmanCamden Noon July 19 '89 Pretty fair with me personally to-day—warm spell over two weeks but I keep up amid it (but every week or month a button or peg gives out—most of the time mildly—but I realize it well enough—my sight & hearing are quite markedly dulling) —warmth shaded a little to-day & cloudy any how— —ate a rare egg & some Graham bread & coffee for my breakfast—eat two meals a day & moderate & plain, but relish them—sit here alone as now quiet & middling comfortable—rather an unfair night last (not common)—bladder botherations—bowel action this forenoon—I enclose Eldridge's rec'd today, as you might like to know—Where & ab't Marvin I don't know—I will send you "Donnelly's Reviewers" right away—I lent it to a friend & have just sent for it but could not get it this forenoon—Mrs. O'C is yet at Wash'n but expects to break up soon I think— —yr's rec'd & welcom'd as always—love to you & 'Sula & Julian—I have a big book (my "complete works" in one vol. rather cumbersome) for you John —Send these (both) to Dr Bucke Walt Whitman The "Donnelly" booklet comes now & I send it to you same mail with this—Camden early pm 24th July '89 Nothing special or new— Every thing going on the same & fairly—Think quite a good deal of O'C lately breakfasted on an egg & some blackberries—have sent the little "Donelly" book to John Burroughs (at his request) at Hobart NY. Have just sold to Chicago purchaser one of the big book (three the last week, but that is exceptional) Walt Whitman(Postmark) Camden, N.J. Jul 25 6AM 89 Dr Bucke Asylum London Ontario Canada (Postmark) NY 7-25.89 10.30AM 10(Postmark) Camden, N.J. Jul 21 430PM 89 Dr Bucke Asylum London Ontario CanadaCamden Sunday pm July 21 '89 Dull with me—am sitting quietly in my 2d story room— —am not taking the tonic three or four days—easier in head— —not writing lately—weather fluctuating rainy & warmy - tolerable to-day— —eat blackberries most every day— Lawyer Harned out in the mountains Walt WhitmanCamden Evn'g July 18 '89 Nothing very new—I am dull —rather extra so in head, belly [&]c: tho't it might be instigated by my tonic—& have intermitted it to-day (for the first since you sent)—am sitting here after my supper & shall go out in wheel chair to river side Y'r letters rec'd—weather pleasant. Walt Whitman(Postmark) Camden, N.J. Jul 19 6AM 89 Dr Bucke Asylum London Ontario Canada NY 7-19.89 1030AMCamden PM July 25 '89 Dull & quiet —slightly more ill than usual—half cloudy & warmish—Kennedy's book is at sea again as you will learn by enclosed—Herbert Gilc: comes frequently—often strangers, visitors, sometimes queer ones— —I get out in the wheel chair—was out last evening till dark —acts as sort o' pacifyer— —The Staffords are well Walt WhitmanCamden Saturday Afternoon Hot unpleasant weather—under a bad spell (caving in feeling generally)—this is the third day— still I get out in the wheel chair—was out to the river at sunset yesterday an hour—sleep & eat fairly yet—(made my breakfast of a dish of raspberries and Graham bread)—pulse fair— —we have a good letter from Sarrazin wh' you will see in the pamphlet—(did I mention Rossetti's?) —Horace delays a little, to get these slow letters wh' probably is all right—even better—(tho' I wanted the pamphlet to be out at once)—nothing very new or significant—a little German review in paper f'm Berlin—now sent by me to Mr Traubel to English it— —will send it to you soon—Horace wishes me to say he will attend to having the little L of G bound as you desired & send—Sylvester Baxter here yesterday - talk'd political reform & socialism strong—is going down to Kentucky (for the Boston Herald)—ask'd me as he left what word or message I had to give him—I said (a la Abraham Lincoln) there was a queer old Long Islander in my boyhood who was always saying "hold your horses" —(I like SB well—he is a good fellow & a good friend.) Sunday 30th 10-11am —Rather pleasanter, cloudy, warm yet—bad spell continued—have had my breakfast, a rare egg, some Graham bread and cocoa & am sitting here alone—been looking over the Sunday paper—rather quiet day—TB Harned stays the coming week up in the mountain country—have myself no great desire to go countryward for a few weeks—Love to you all Walt WhitmanCamden pm July 28 '89 Wet, warmish, cloudy half dark to day — feeling fairly — bowel action & waterworks action middling fair (sluggish & delayed)—peaches have come, good & I eat them cut up & sugar'd — still stick to the mutton-rice broth — have been looking over the proofs of Horace's dinner book — (it is a cataclysm of praise &c:) — of course you will get one soon as printed, — well some three or four weeks of hot weather yet, with perhaps of intervals even in that — WW(Postmark) Camden, N.J. JUL28 5PM 89 (Postmark) BUFFALO, N.Y. JUL29 10:30AM 89 REC'D Dr Bucke Asylum London Ontario CanadaCamden Dusk July 26 '89 A word first for Pardee—gone over then to the majority where we are all steadily, tending "for reasons" —blessed be his memory!— —have just eaten my supper, stew'd chicken & rice—feel poorly, these days & nights—a shade easier this evn'g—the heat I suppose has sapp'd & indigestion's talons are fix'd on me again—yours rec'd this pm—cooler a rain in prospect Walt WhitmanDr Bucke Asylum London Ontario Canada