This not so much if at all an exposure of anything [illegible] harmless,
facts, thoughts, perhaps
idle aspirations. [illegible]t with a lot of
g[illegible] not to take up at [illegible] to put
[illegible] of listlessness wh[illegible] seems to be
better comp[illegible] at all. Charity,
not for you, but for myself, is the motive, as this is
(forenoon of Monday, May 8,) a day when the fields are too much soaked with rain
for out-door farming business, and the man is lonesome. (Now, if there were living
near me, such people that I could take my Walt Whitman books with me, and by reading
to them, or having them read for themselves, see them jump up and shout "glory, glory, hallelujah" like the
good follks do it
[illegible] I could pass the day well. But it is [illegible]
so much different [illegible] I am a poor, [illegible]—as
for styling myself "philosopher," I will [illegible] that, and let you see whether you
have guessed well if you have taken interest in the matter enough to be
guessing—it is not a term ever applied by others to me, and
has very seldom been used by me 'till writing to you—a
nom de plume—sometimes when I am talking to myself I use the title—also
some years ago when I saw in a newspaper mention of a character (perhaps), a "J.N. the Philosopher" I thought
it might be some one's mischief concerning myself on account of [illegible]
methodical, systematic manner in conversations and eccentricity
[illegible]ality of ways [deletion] and myself
[deletion]ish to sig[deletion]
loc_tb.00797.jpg
they might fall into wrong hands, and being so frank or communicative—you see—
Possibly, possibly, you will like to know how I like your new issues.1 It does me great good to see the full length [illegible]—a very proper embellishment [deletion] a work, almost convincing [deletion] open [deletion]t has [illegible] not for eccentricity, but for comfort, very necessary to [illegible])—the intercalations are good—I judge the new issue was printed from old plates still in your possession (printing and mis-printing all the same). How much would it cost to print for me about 6 copies of the full-length picture?
When the two books came to the post-office, I read to the P.M., an old man of large body, brain, and general solidity, and a consistent Union man, the "Song of the Banner at Day-Break"—it seemed to please him powerfully.
I tell you Kosmos! "the Philosopher" is a fine reader—voice a little husky and nasal at times, and teeth awful bad, but the quality to bring forth what lies slumbering as farther back than lips or teeth. If I were a rich man I would print in great, big type, that Song, for wide distribution at the Centennial,2 and if you pestered me about infringement of copy-right, I would pull your beard.
In "Two Rivulets" I see nothing but what is good.
The Passage to India3 and the Strong Bird4 &c were not new to
me—I had them before. Democratic Vistas5 was new—thinking
of lending the book among the most suitable people around me (people perhaps
too poor to buy for themselves, or at least not disposed,) I have marked about
one[illegible] in passing of Vistas as condensed
expression [deletion] of e[illegible]t vol
loc_tb.00798.jpg
a good deal in other places—your books tho' are bad
books for marking—so many marks to make, the object is
defeated. I dont want my your books
worn out by borrowers but I like to lend them
as I feel [illegible] like—sending out messengers
to[illegible] tell people to come into the feast of[illegible]
Not being a follower of f[illegible] have been any enthusiast about flags of any
sort, or disposed to pronounce any (either) cause certainly
just or holy, but I much admire all your Flag and Union and Soldier and Hospital writings—I wouldn't give
10 cents for life-size paintings of Grant,6 Sherman,7
Lee,8 Johnston,9 Davis10 and infinituus
I wish you would sometime take up Democratic Vistas (for me) and read (Conscience) Page 62 and then bottom of Page 69—please read all of it (for me). All of Dem Vistas.
Concerning that Exposition, and people coming or not coming to it. I see that I can get (or have) the means to come and pay my own way, first and last. As a matter of policy, here are considerations. A man with a large family, in resolving to spend, ought to think not merely of his principal, but of his income; think of the easiness, or the difficulty and slowness of replacing what he may spend. The principle of self-denial and paternal solicitude says for me to consider what good can I make it do my family if I make that visit to Phila.?
Under some circumstances it may do much good—they wish me to do so—I might please them a great deal
by the relation of what I should
see—[deletion]nd the ve[deletion] instruct
loc_tb.00799.jpg
them, give all a taste for reading, and in time "elevated sentiments". Of course the crowding, and
[illegible]ing and multitude of sights and sounds would
[deletion] a wild man very much, and he might not
[illegible] a distinct remembrance of any considerable
part. S[deletion] would make kept and freely use[illegible]
I know under favorable conditions the chance to see and talk with (just, lone, solitary) Walt Whitman would be half of my pleasure. And again, if I could write, speak, act, or look so as to win any considerable bit of kind notice, or useful suggestions from you, I know it would afford a great pleasure certainly, and perhaps be a valuable moral stimulant and elevator to the family. Put this against the outlay. I wish to find the best book for them, and to inspire them with pride, that they may be worthy wife and children of a home-made Philosopher.
All stubbornly at my own expense. As I write this, I am not disposed to come there. I swear I wont if you say I shall not see you,
But if I could come at my convenient time, and hire lodging close to Walt, and step in for a week at your convenient times, and beard the (reticent) lion in his den, and make him give me a great deal of information and good advice, it might pay us here finely.
As I have exhausted my sheet, I forbear giving news of the situation with us, till such is called for.
I guess wh[illegible] having [deletion]gs.
For[deletion]
[deletion]J.Correspondent:
John Newton Johnson
(1832–1904) was a colorful and eccentric self-styled philosopher from
rural Alabama. There are about thirty letters from Johnson in the Charles E.
Feinberg Collection of the Papers of Walt Whitman, 1839–1919 (Library of
Congress, Washington, D.C.), but unfortunately there are no replies extant,
although Whitman wrote frequently for a period of approximately fifteen years.
When Johnson wrote for the first time on August 13,
1874, he was forty-two, "gray as a rat," as he would say in another
letter from September 13, 1874: a former Rebel
soldier with an income between $300 and $400 annually, though before the
war he had been "a slaveholding youthful 'patriarch.'"
He informed Whitman in the August 13, 1874, letter
that during the past summer he had bought Leaves of Grass
and, after a momentary suspicion that the bookseller should be "hung for swindling," he discovered the mystery of
Whitman's verse, and "I assure you I was soon 'cavorting' round and asserting
that the $3 book was worth $50 if it could not be replaced, (Now
Laugh)." He offered either to sell Whitman's poetry and turn over to him all
profits or to lend him money. On October 7, 1874,
after describing Guntersville, Alabama, a town near his farm from which he often
mailed his letters to Whitman, he commented: "Orthodoxy flourishes with the usual lack of
flowers or fruit." See
also Charles N. Elliot, Walt Whitman as Man, Poet and
Friend (Boston: R. G. Badger, 1915), 125–130.