Thanks for your kind remembrance of me in your note & enclosure.1 I am a very dilatory correspondent and save in necessary business I hardly write a letter, "The Spirit does not move me" so, even to my near relatives & best friends. I am glad that Logan2 does better than his father—He is an improved edition in every way, dear fellow, I know not what will come out of him but he is cramming much into his head by hard, unremitting study—and in the Ancients whom you so detest or despise.
We are in the pivotal city of the world, within personal knowledge or touch of those who are guiding political, scientific, moral, philanthropic & religious movements wh[illegible] round or effect the loc_jm.00440.jpg whole world, and it is highly interesting for one who feels in conscience released responsibility for further work—to sit by a looker on in Venice3—and see the struggling tides flow past. I have my youth renewed to me in the extreme delight I take in our country home. We are now in our London house, but I spend two or three days a week in the country. I am building about 20 feet up a big oak tree a "House in the Garden" such as the East Indian sages retire to at leaving their property & cares to their families to find Nirvana and prepare for the great change. I have caught some of the pantheistic feeling of oneness loc_jm.00441.jpg in my spirit with nature & I have not been so restfully happy since I was a boy. Is it second childhood?
I am glad to hear so cheerful an account of you and that your true friends continue to gather around you. You have many, many friends not known to you in the flesh in England. Your place & fame are assured in the centers of anglo Saxon literature. I wish that you had a more attractive home than Mickle St Camden, which is a place as free from sentiment for a poets residence as could be found. But it is your choice & you are happy there loc_jm.00442.jpg as one of the uncounted millions whom you represent.
Thank you for remembering me from time to time with papers. I am anchored here, but it is at best a foreign port—Pennsylvania has been the home of my family for over 200 years and it is the place of my affections.
Logan is out here to join me in the message of love from Mary,4 Alys5 and
Your sincere friend Robert Pearsall SmithCorrespondent:
Robert Pearsall Smith
(1827–1898) was a Quaker who became an evangelical minister associated
with the "Holiness movement." He was also a writer and businessman. Whitman
often stayed at his Philadelphia home, where the poet became friendly with the
Smith children—Mary, Logan, and Alys. For more information about Smith,
see Christina Davey, "Smith, Robert Pearsall (1827–1898)," Walt
Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New
York: Garland Publishing, 1998).