Yours of Feb. 6 with draft reach'd me which I responded to sending new edition "Leaves of Grass" and "Two Rivulets," two or three days since, by mail, same address as this, which you ought to have rec'd now lately—sent postal card briefly notifying you, & asking you to send me word (by postal card will do) immediately on their reception.1
To-day comes your affectionate, hearty, valued letter of Feb. 16, all right, with enclosure, draft 12£. 10s.2—all deeply appreciated—the letter good, cannot be better, but, as always, the spirit the main thing—(altogether like some fresh, magnetic, friendly breath of breeze, 'way off there from the Irish Coast)—I wonder if you can know how much good such things do me. I shall send the six sets (six "Leaves" and six "Rivulets") by express, very soon, (probably by next Philadelphia steamer.) The extra copies of "Memoranda of the War" not being ready bound, at present, I will send by mail—six copies, before very long. (I hope the set above mention'd I mailed you by last steamer, will have reach'd you before you get this.) I saw O'Grady's article in the December "Gentleman's"3 & from my point of view, he dwells on what I like to have dwelt on. I was deeply pleased with the article, & if I had O'Grady's address I would like to send him my photograph.4 I also read the Peter Bayne article. (It was copied in full here at once, & circulated quite largely.)5 As I write this, I have not read Abraham Stoker's letter,6 but shall do so, & carefully. (The names shall be written in the Vols. as you mention.) I read with great zest the account of the discussion at the "Fortnightly"7—I have learn'd to feel very thankful to those who attack & abuse & pervert me—that's perhaps (besides being good fun) the only way to bring out the splendid ardor & friendship of those, my unknown friends, my best reward, art & part with me, in my pages, (for I have come to solace & perhaps flatter myself that it is they indeed in them, as much as I, every bit.)
My condition physically is pretty much the same—no worse, at least not decidedly. I get out nearly every day, but not far, & cannot walk from lameness—make much of the river here, the broad Delaware, crossing a great deal on the ferry, full of life & fun to me—get down there by our horse cars, which run along near my door—get infinite kindness, care, & assistance, from the employés on these boats & cars—My friend, next time you write say more about yourself, family & Mrs. Dowden, to whom with yourself best love & regards—
Walt Whitman