loc_af.01059_large.jpg
A valued Irish friend, a frequent traveler and resident
on the European Continent—here is an extract from one of his late letters to
me:1
loc_af.01060_large.jpg
loc_af.01061_large.jpg
bei Herrn Mauermeister Müller
168 Sidonian Strass
Tharandt
Dresden—
July 11th
Dresden,
Saxony
¶" There has been much
more interest here,2 more sympathy and more indignation felt
about the Presidents attempted murder,3 than if he was a European sovereign. From
all sides, I think, the world looks to America; we love our own lands as much as
you, but we feel that the future of the race is being decided there. Political
corruption and public dishonesty are instinctively felt to be far more significant,
occurring in America than in Germany or England, and we have been hearing so much
about them lately that everyone's mind loc_af.01062_large.jpghas been bent in expectation towards
each new President, each striking turn of events in the U.S.; thinking that the time
has come at last when something will be done to justify our hopes. We have thought
we saw it being done since—Garfield's election—Hercules letting in the
cleansing flood. Now, rightly or wrongly, this impression has been immensely
strengthened. When we heard the President was dead it was as if we heard of a
martyrdom. Now that the reports are more and more favourable everyday, it seems to
us as if the good cause had assuredly triumphed in the first wrestle. I don't know
how far these impressions of the state of things are true; but they have
verisimilitude. I liked so much all I could hear of President Garfield. loc_af.01063_large.jpgIs it not
wonderful and inscrutable that out of the confusion and slander and insidious
intrigue that seems to attend every Presidential election a man like that should
have emerged? Things look to me every way
as if the people were awaking.
I see your friend R. M. Bucke has brought out a
book on 'Man's Moral Nature'—I must get it. I saw it noticed & praised
in the 'Spectator' a few days ago—the critic said that "Mr. Bucke appeared
to be an ardent admirer of Walt Whitman—hence, perhaps, some of the
obscurities in the volume—which, we candidly confess, are beyond us."4 The Spectator is an excellent (weekly)
paper—thoughtful, honest, manly; Radical in politics, but in religion
belonging to loc_af.01064_large.jpg
that rather vapid sect, the Neo-Christian or Broad Church. Barring this latter
particular there is a very great deal in the 'Spectator' which might be written
out of you; and I have no doubt that if you had thrown your works into the form
of systematic treatises and written in a strictly refined cultured and
gentlemanlike way, you might have gained the approbation of the Spectator,
possibly even of the Saturday Review, to which latter journal you are still a
thorn in the flesh, of the first magnitude.5
We have left Bad-Elster, the baths having perfectly
restored my wife's health to our great joy. And we are now pretty close to
Dresden, about half an hour by train, living in two rooms in the [cut away]
Notes
- 1. Whitman evidently sent this
letter to someone else, and wrote to send along with it this note, which appears
on a separate leaf. Much of the letter itself Whitman crossed out with pencil,
creating an "extract," including the header and the last several paragraphs. He
also wrote "Dresden, Saxony" and added a ¶" at the top. The letter cuts off
at the end, indicating that there was probably another page, which has not been
located. [back]
- 2. Thomas William Hazen Rolleston
(1857–1920) was an Irish poet and journalist. After attending college in
Dublin, he moved to Germany for a period of time. He wrote to Whitman
frequently, beginning in 1880, and later produced with Karl Knortz the first
book-length translation of Whitman's poetry into German. In 1889, the collection
Grashalme: Gedichte [Leaves of
Grass: Poems] was published by Verlags-Magazin in Zurich, Switzerland.
See Walter Grünzweig, Constructing the German Walt Whitman (Iowa
City: University of Iowa Press, 1995). For more information on Rolleston, see
Walter Grünzweig, "Rolleston, Thomas William Hazen (1857–1920)," Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D.
Kummings (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998). [back]
- 3. The newly elected
President Garfield—to whom Rolleston had referred enthusiastically in his
letter to Whitman of January 29, 1881—had
been shot by a disappointed office-seeker on July 2, 1881; he died on September
19, 1881. [back]
- 4. Dr. Richard Maurice Bucke
(1837–1902), a Canadian psychiatrist, became an intimate friend of Whitman
and wrote the first complete life of the poet (see the letter from Rolleston to
Whitman of September 27, 1883). The review to
which Rolleston refers appeared in the June 4, 1881 issue of the Spectator (54, 742). The reviewer presents as the main
thesis of Bucke's Man's Moral Nature (New York, 1879) the
concept that love and faith are the basic elements of all progress and that
Christianity is but "one step in an immense, perhaps an infinite series." The
exact reading of the quotation given by Rolleston is: "The author of this essay
is, it appears, an ardent admirer of Walt Whitman; hence, perhaps, some of the
obscurities in his pages, which we must candidly say baffle us." [back]
- 5. The attitude of the Saturday Review toward Whitman was unsympathetic during
his whole writing career. When Whitman sent a copy of his newly published Leaves of Grass to the periodical with a suggestion that
it be favorably reviewed, he evoked the editor's comment that "If the Leaves of Grass should come into anybody's possession,
our advice is to throw them instantly behind the fire." Representative of the
Review's attitude is an article in the March 18, 1876
issue written in answer to a current drive by Whitman's friends to relieve his
financial distress. It begins, "Whitman, it may be explained, is an American
writer who some years back attracted attention by a volume of so-called poems
which were chiefly remarkable for their absurd extravagance and shameless
obscenity, and who has since, we are glad to say, been little heard of among
decent people," and continues with such descriptions of his writing as a "stock
of garbage," "so-called poetry," and "Whitman wares." The article even calls
Whitman a "dirty bird which is shunned on account of its unclean habits." [back]