5.30 P.M. W. in his room, reading. After his afternoon meal he usually takes a course in the local papers, getting two—the Post and the Courier.
Brought him from Frank Williams the letter containing the Tennyson matter as spoken of several days ago. Written by John C. Trautwine, Jr., to some-one in Philadelphia named Suplee. W. advised me to keep a copy of the paragraph—also to send one to Dr. Bucke. "I wonder if Frank will print it entire? or perhaps not." It would be safer to copy. "It appears on the face of it quite authentic," said W. Here it is—
"Speaking of Browning, do you know that Walt Whitman is enthusiastically admired in England? Mr. Harrison, for instance, is quite devoted to him, and says that Tennyson says that W. W. is one of the greatest, if not the greatest, of living poets, or words to that effect. Mr. Gordon, you know, surprised me by manifesting the greatest interest in him. Verily a prophet is not without honor, save in his own country. In this, too, I must want training. There are fine things, in W. W.'s writings, but I can't help wishing he had put them into prose, instead of into such rocky verse."
W. smiled somewhat over this, but made no comment.
I took a fat letter to the P.O. for him, addressed to Stoddart, of Lippincott's, and not only duly sealed but additionally tied with a string. Garland's letter not yet turned up.