I got yours of the 29th ultimo, with the slip from The Critic.1 It is a magnificent compliment, and
was inexpressibly comforting. John Burroughs2 told me when he
was here, and has since written to the same effect, that what I say on the question
does not touch him at all, and although one loc.03297.002_large.jpg does not mind such things at
first, yet gradually, and especially when they are only part of one concurrent
voice, they more than half persuade one that he is a visionary jackass, and have a
deeply disheartening effect—all the more, I think, when one's convictions on
the matter are clear and deep. There is nothing more evident to me than what
Machiavel in The Prince did for tyranny—i.e. sow
death for it by
loc.03297.003_large.jpg
simply showing it up without bias and with perfect candor—Bacon (i.e.
Shakespeare) did for feudality. It is the old story of the basilisk—if you see
him first, he dies. In the plays—the historical plays especially—Bacon
sees the basilisk in all his nature and proportions.
I regret I am not free of office life, for I am sure I could make Bacon's part in
all this matter so evident that Time would remember it. loc.03297.004_large.jpg Criticism on Shakespeare has not
yet begun, nor can it ever begin, until the coincidence with the Baconian
movement—the divine conspiracy of the Novum Organum
against false civilization—is recognized. So far comment on Shakespeare has
been merely esthetic. But the relation of that drama to that age—that
marvellous "time-bettering age"—that is the main question.
I am extremely gratified loc.03297.005_large.jpg at the reinforcement your article brings. In this connection,
please read Coriolanus. The impersonation of the feudal military spirit in the hero
is perfect, and there are scenes—notably that of the conference between the
tribunes when they plan "to darken him forever"—which are revelations.
I have an article before the Manhattan which loc.03297.006_large.jpg I now hope more
than ever they will publish, for it has some things about Bacon I would like you to
read.
There is a noble picture of him, from the painting by Vandyck, in the October Harper. Look at it, and ask yourself whether that face belongs to one who was "the meanest of mankind"! Nothing refutes a slander like a good portrait.
I have been over today to the Surgeon General's Office to see about data for you. I
know Dr. Huntington, the Acting Surgeon General, very well. I am afraid that the
quest will be fruitless. The only matter they have is the "Medical and Surgical
History of the War", now in process of publication. What you want—i.e.
hospital matter—will be in the third volume, and this is now being made up,
and will not be ready, loc.03297.008_large.jpg unfortunately, for a year. I am sorry. However, I will go down
tomorrow, to the Medical Museum, and, (as Dr. Huntington suggested to me] talk with Dr.
Wild, the librarian, and see if he can give me anything. I fear it is
unlikely—the publications being inchoate. You shall hear duly.
I am crushed with work at present. The weather is simply infernal. I wish you were better, and hope the coming coolness of October will revive you. More anon.3
Faithfully, W.D.OC. W.W.(I hope you got the little Hearn book. The thieves song in the Polynesian story is wonderfully fine.4
Correspondent:
William Douglas O'Connor
(1832–1889) was the author of the grand and grandiloquent Whitman pamphlet
The Good Gray Poet: A Vindication, published in 1866.
For more on Whitman's relationship with O'Connor, see Deshae E. Lott, "O'Connor, William Douglas (1832–1889)," Walt
Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New
York: Garland Publishing, 1998).