Title: The genuine miracles of Christ
Creator: Walt Whitman
Date: Between 1850 and 1855
Whitman Archive ID: loc.01019
Source: The Charles E. Feinberg Collection of the Papers of Walt Whitman, 1839–1919, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. Transcribed from digital images of the original. For a description of the editorial rationale behind our treatment of the manuscripts, see our statement of editorial policy.
Editorial note: This cancelled prose manuscript includes language that contributed to Whitman's published poetry. The wording of "the vast elemental sympathy, which, only the human soul is capable of generating and emitting in steady and limitless floods," was used, slightly revised, in "A Song of Joys," which first appeared in the 1860 edition of Leaves of Grass as "Poem of Joys." The segment "descend from the tips of his fingers, from the smell of his body, from the vapor of his lungs" was revised and used in the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass in the poem that was eventually titled "Song of Myself." Therefore, this manuscript was probably written prior to the publication of the first edition of Leaves, likely between 1850 and 1855.
Contributors to digital file: Kevin McMullen, Nicole Gray, and Kenneth M. Price
The genuine miracles of Christ were such miracles as can always be produced.—They come from something which ne whose perfume neither originated with tha[t?] fragrant lily of souls, nor was exhausted by him.—They are not more wonderful, eExcept that their law spirit encloses all the ot[hers—?]they are not more wonderful marvellous than any of those mysteries we call the laws of the Its nature; and all alike are just the same this hour in the Atlantic states and the valleys of the west, as tens of centuries ago in ^ medi[a?] Palestine or ^in Egypt (Shinar)? Forever and forever ^ the one of them, and and that Jesus knew, saw, is the immortal testifier of Love the semen whence comes ^comes is born of the entire Universe., ^ the one showing If shows itself in ^and cause of this that vast elemental sympathy, which, of all we yet know, only the human soul is capable of generating and emitting in steady and limitless floods, best visible shown to the world through a superbly transparent and perfect nature, a sweet and clean body in which was is no guile, or any thing selfish or [unseemly?] occult or mean.—Every hour, every atom, every where is chock with beautiful miracles, but I consider the ^sympathetic power of the affections of the [human?] men's and women's hearts to be ^ the nighest of all ^we yet know ^ we can behold with mortal eyes to the primal source and ^unfathomable depth of all [we?] we do not ^yet know. Noro god nor demigod of the antique—no power of Kronos, or Zeus his son or Hercules his grandson, begins with such a power as this.—Of the being who embodies it in boundless finished perfection,—and of whom there have been one or two examples in as many thousand years, as if to encourage the earth and show it how,—and of whose presence to say it is divine I do not wonder,—things more incredible than the any myths of Jah, or Brahma, or Osiris, descend from the tips of his fingers, from the smell of his body, from the vapor of his lungs, whether they act to day ^or fifty generations gone,—whether in Asia, or in New York or San Francisco, or London.—For a soul