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fact that Captain Walter Murray Gibson, who had also talked about the "koboo" people (possibly in the book

East Indian Archipelago: a Description of Its Wild Races of Men, published in 1854, and/or in The Prison

Glance at the East Indian Archipelago, published in 1855), had affirmed that all his statements in the book

when it became the pleasing duty of that model judge to administer the last rites of the law to a prisoner

of the roughs, a kosmos, Disorderly, fleshy, sensual, &c. was the "poet of pantheism," and that the book

of Spinoza, perfectly indifferent with regard to the matter that enters into the composition of his book

He visited hospitals, alms-houses and prisons, attended political gatherings, frequented taverns, and

confessed himself as much a felon as those who were: "You felons on trial in courts, You convicts in prison

sentenced assassins chain'd and handcuff'd with iron, Who am I, too, that I am not on trial or in prison

Few if any copies of the book were sold.

he speaks so often, and his ministrations to the outcast men and women in the city streets and the prisons

.; American writer (1825–1878) who wrote for newspapers, travel books, novels, poetry, and critical essays

His book is one of courage, most downright in its dogmatics, and says its say apparently without the

This is a book which makes not only war upon nearly all traditional theories of true poetry, but in many

And yet there are gleams in his book, not only of great things, but of possibly magnificent ones.

"The Singer in the Prison" (p. 292) beginning O sight of pity, shame and dole !

We say of him, and of all who have assisted in the making of his book, that they are guilty of an act

. ∗ The book is not intended for the confirmed admirers of Whitman, for they will be satisfied with nothing

There are even certain fellows of the baser sort whose trade consists in lending out willfully obscene books

Rhys' book, there is no hope that it will benefit them.

Coming now to the book itself we find something to condemn and something, also, to praise.

Another omission which we can hardly approve is The Singer in Prison , but after all, something had to

without reserve and with perfect indifference to their effect on the reader's mind; and not only is the book

this gross yet elevated, this superficial yet profound, this preposterous yet somehow fascinating book

"Did you read in the books of the old- fashioned old-fashioned frigate fight?

shining , and the leaks on the gain, and five feet of water reported; The master-at-arms loosing the prisoners

As seems very proper in a book of transcendental poetry, the author withholds his name from the title

—But in each one the book was not opened.

following lines: "Through me many long dumb voices, / Voices of the interminable generations of prisoners

Poem or other work —A manly unpretensive philosopher—without any of the old insignia, such as age, books

Can a man be wise without he get wisdom from the books?

knife in his hands,"—such was the warning sung out at night more than once below in the Old Jersey prison

—The prisoners were allowed no light at night.— No physicians were allowed provided.— Sophocles, Eschylus

wandering savage, / A farmer, mechanic, or artist . . . . a gentleman, sailor, lover or quaker, / A prisoner

wandering savage, / A farmer, mechanic, or artist . . . . a gentleman, sailor, lover or quaker, / A prisoner

There are many great painters—they paint scenes from the books, and illustrate from what the romancer

Its title-page, as will be seen, bears upon it the name of no author, and the book is ushered into the

teacher of the thoughtfulest, a farmer, mechanic, or artist, a gentleman, sailor, lover, or quaker, a prisoner

Are they not all written in the "golden" book aforesaid?—a book which Mr.

When we read that eulogy we were satisfied that this volume would prove to us a sealed book, and that

The book is too radical, too free, too independent and far too true to make its conquest of a popular

To the question, "Will the book and the man ever be popular?"

But let us take a survey of the book. Let us see how far it fits the foregoing remarks.

I, of every rank and re- ligion religion A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, Quaker, Prisoner

There are two or three pieces in the book which are disagreeable, at least, simply sensual.

of which we know—amid the never enough praised spread of common education and common newspapers and books—amid

—Since the deposition of the king, the prisons had been filled, with suspected persons; on the 2nd of

Caractacus sought to free his country, was taken prisoner and carried to Rome.—"Alas!

I become any presence or truth of humanity here, And see myself in prison shaped like another man, And

I see the menials of the earth, laboring, I see the prisoners in the prisons, I see the defective human

or man that has been in prison, or is likely to be in prison? 15 — Clef Poem.

The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison, the run- away runaway

Let the prison-keepers be put in prison! Let those that were prisoners take the keys! (Say!

The preface of the book contains an inestimable wealth of this unworked ore—it is a creed of the material

A single glance of it mocks all the investigations of man, and all the instruments and books of the earth

or Asia…a wandering savage, A farmer, mechanic, or artist…a gentleman, sailor, lover orquaker, A prisoner

E VERYTHING about the external arrangement of this book was odd and out of the way.

reader goes to a bookstore for it, he may expect to be told at first, as we were, that there is no such book

Nevertheless, there is such a book, and it is well worth going twice to the bookstore to buy it.

In this book, however, the prophecy is fairly fulfilled in the accomplishment.

The book is divided into a dozen or more sections, and in each one of these some thread of connection

things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books

Europe, Asia—a wandering savage, A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, lover, quaker, A prisoner

Did you read in the sea-books of the old-fashioned frigate-fight?

Vernon, What sobers the Brooklyn boy as he looks down the shores of the Wallabout and remembers the prison

I become any presence or truth of humanity here, And see myself in prison shaped like another man, And

A single glance of it mocks all the investigations of man and all the instruments and books of the earth

Vernon, / What sobers the Brooklyn boy as he looks down the shores of the Wallabout and remembers the prison

On the cover of the notebook is a note in an unknown hand that reads: "Note Book Walt Whitman E85."

On the cover of the notebook is a note in an unknown hand that reads: "Note Book Walt Whitman E85."

Fancy the untamable, untranslatable Walt pottering over rondeaux, or elaborating canzonets, or measuring

and held at Duke University (The Trent Collection of Walt Whitman Manuscripts, Duke University Rare Book

The book has nearly four hundred pages of close print.

One object of the book is to inspire the reader with a desire to enlist in this limited and peripatetic

The corruption exposed in this book would "infect to the North Star."

The object of the book is to deify impulse and lawlessness.

Sold at the book stores.

A single glance of it mocks all the investigations of man and all the instruments and books of the earth

season of every year of your life, re examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book

My words are words of a questioning, and to indicate reality; This printed and bound book . . . . but

The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison . . . . the runaway

or man that has been in prison or is likely to be in prison?

things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books

mill, The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer, the reporter's lead flies swiftly over the note-book

, the sign-painter is lettering with blue and gold, The canal boy trots on the tow-path, the book-keeper

Through me many long dumb voices, Voices of the interminable generations of prisoners and slaves, Voices

Embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering, See myself in prison shaped like another man, And feel the

things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books

Europe, Asia—a wandering savage, A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, lover, quaker, A prisoner

great authors and schools, A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books

Did you read in the sea-books of the old-fashioned frigate-fight?

I become any presence or truth of humanity here, See myself in prison shaped like another man, And feel

things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books

mill, The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer, the reporter's lead flies swiftly over the note-book

, the sign-painter is lettering with blue and gold, The canal boy trots on the tow-path, the book-keeper

Through me many long dumb voices, Voices of the interminable generations of prisoners and slaves, Voices

Embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering, See myself in prison shaped like another man, And feel the

We remember to have seen a brief criticism of the book in dear dead Putnam , by a critic who seemed to

If you attempt to gather the meaning of the whole book, you fail utterly.

Yet there are passages in the book of profound and subtle significance, and of rare beauty; with passages

so gross and revolting, that you might say of them, as the Germans say of bad books— Sie lassen sich

W goes through his book, like one in an ill-conditioned dream, perfectly nude, with his clothes over

of all vast limitless Library ; it is they are —it is limitless and eternally open to me; It is The books

always perfect, and alive; Those He They are do not own the librar y ies who have bought the buy the books

Many are the books I have read and recommended to the world of seekers for knowledge, truth and wisdom

This wonderful book is "Leaves of Grass!"

I feel that I can not do better justice to the book than to give an extract from a lecture on it delivered

"Leaves of Grass" I heard him give myself, while I was in Boston, and it determined me to buy the book

I shall be glad to fill orders for this book of books.

Nevertheless, the Orientalism of the book is manifestly unconscious, it is really meant to be, and is

to consider if it really be; A morning glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books

The book was still-born.

Some threescore copies were deposited in a neighboring book-store, and as many more in another book-store

The only attention the book received was, for instance, the use of it by the collected attachés of a

WHEN I READ THE BOOK.

All the hapless silent lovers, All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked, All

book-words! what are you?

The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison, the runaway son

be put in prison—let those that were prisoners take the keys; Let them that distrust birth and death

It is a book concerning which Englishmen ought to know at least a little.

A morning glory at my window satisfies me more than the meta- physics metaphysics of books."

Our readers have seen enough of the book to have an idea of it and the author.

To know all his talent and eccentricity is impossible till the book itself has been perused.

George Wither, seventeenth-century British poet who dedicated a book of satires to himself.

.; George Wither, seventeenth-century British poet who dedicated a book of satires to himself.

The proof of his greatness is in his book; and there is proof enough.

"This is no book," it says; "whoever touches this, touches a man."

No book exists anywhere more beautifully in earnest than this.

Of the defects in this book something also may properly be said.

Whitman puts into the book one or two lines which he would not address to a woman nor to a company of

Altogether the book might seem to a too-fanciful critic to have abandoned, at least in externals, its

But it is still as ever far more easy to argue for or against the book than to convey a clear account

For the answers we must refer the reader to the book that it may give its own reply.

"You shall," he says at the beginning of his book: "You shall no longer take things at second or third

No Englishman, no one indeed, whether American or Englishman, need be deterred from reading this book

The book was published posthumously in 1869 and gained renown as a significant text of urban writing.

It is the title of a book that has been challenged by the conservers of public morals as unfit to be

As usual in such cases, the reaction increased the demand for the book to such an extent that several

The book is full of such salt-sea breezes of expression as these: O the joy of a manly selfhood!

And is there nothing in the book to condemn?

A morning glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books."

WHEN I READ THE BOOK.

I see all the menials of the earth, laboring, I see all the prisoners in the prisons, I see the defective

All the hapless silent lovers, All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked, All

The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison, the runaway son

be put in prison—let those that were prisoners take the keys; Let them that distrust birth and death

"Leaves of Grass"—An Extraordinary Book. Here we have a book which fairly staggers us.

Its author is Walter Whitman, and the book is a reproduction of the author.

The contents of the book form a daguerreotype of his inner being, and the title page bears a representation

All who read it will agree that it is an extraordinary book, full of beauties and blemishes, such as

'Leaves of Grass'—An Extraordinary Book

to the disadvantage of our excellent laureate,—and to whom Mr Emerson writes that he finds in his book

The book he pronounces "the most extraordinary piece of wit and wisdom that America has yet contributed

In that state he would write a book exactly like Walt Whitman's . Earth!

great authors and schools, A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books

Three-fourths of Walt Whitman's book is poetry as catalogues of auctioneers are poems.

Martin Farquhar Tupper (1810-1889) wrote Proverbial Philosophy, a book of didactic moral and religious

Let the prison-keepers be put in prison! Let those that were prisoners take the keys! (Say!

Let books take the place of trees, animals, rivers, clouds!

or man that has been in prison, or is likely to be in prison? 4.

book, It is a man, flushed and full-blooded—it is I—So long!

The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison—the run- away runaway

second or third hand . . . . nor look through the eyes of the dead . . . . nor feed on the spectres in books

wandering savage, A farmer, mechanic, or artist . . . . a gentleman, sailor, lover or quaker, A prisoner

great authors and schools, A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books

I become any presence or truth of humanity here, And see myself in prison shaped like another man, And

My words are words of a questioning, and to indicate reality; This printed and bound book . . . . but

By the booksellers of the United States generally the book was ignored, but it could be obtained by the

, but for scientific examples, introduced as they might be in any legal, medical, or physiological book

So much for the matter of the book. As to the manner, it is the same as that with which Mr.

It is however, as a printed book, got up in a splendid manner, and is electrotyped for the sake of cheapness

WHEN I READ THE BOOK.

I see the menials of the earth, laboring; I see the prisoners in the prisons; I see the defective human

The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison—the run-away son

17 All the hapless silent lovers, All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked,

let the prison- keepers prison-keepers be put in prison!

things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books

— the sign-painter is lettering with red and gold; The canal-boy trots on the tow-path—the book-keeper

of every rank and reli- gion religion ; A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, quaker; A prisoner

well up, our leaks on the gain, and five feet of water reported; The master-at-arms loosing the prisoners

I embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering; See myself in prison shaped like another man, And feel

On opening the book we first beheld, as a frontispiece, the picture of a man in his shirt sleeves, wearing

From this title page we learned that the book was entitled , and was printed at Brooklyn in the year

Then returning to the fore-part of the book, we found proof slips of certain review articles about the

It is a lie to write a review of one's own book, then extract it from the work in which it appeared and

This doctrine is exemplified in the book by a panorama as it were of pictures, each of which is shared

Our Book Table. L EAVES OF G RASS .

the straining after at least the appearance of total originality, but to give future readers of this book

Martin Farquhar Tupper (1810-1889) wrote Proverbial Philosophy , a book of didactic moral and religious

Our Book Table

Martin Farquhar Tupper (1810-1889) wrote Proverbial Philosophy, a book of didactic moral and religious

. ∗ N OT the least surprising thing about this book is its title.

Walt Whitman's book.

with John Lord Campbell on the woolsack, and a certain act of his still unrepealed on the statute-book

the latter kind by any means few; although, undoubtedly, the predominating qualities throughout the book

A better printed book, coming even from Boston, we have not seen in a good while.

seen Walt Whitman to our knowledge; nor do we know anything of him further than we learn from his book

the latter kind by any means few; although, undoubtedly, the predominating qualities throughout the book

A better printed book, coming even from Boston, we have not seen in a good while.

seen Walt Whitman to our knowledge; nor do we know anything of him further than we learn from his book

.— Absorb no more longer, mon ami, from the schools text-books .— or t Go no more not , for some years

Books have generated too long upon themselves books, and religions upon religions, and poems upon poems

The man is the true impersonation of his book—rough, uncouth, vulgar.

cannot tell, unless it means a man who thinks that the fine essence of poetry consists in writing a book

We should have passed over this book, Leaves of Grass, with indignant contempt, had not some few Transatlantic

suppose that Walt Whitman has been learning to write, and that the compositor has got hold of his copy-book

We will neither weary nor insult our readers with more extracts from this notable book.

for stuffed crocodiles, and readers of romance pronounced the "Arabian Nights" the most wonderful of books

But the leading principle of the book, where the sense is intelligible, appears to be the praise of muscle

It would be impossible to transcribe from any part of the book without offending common sense, and it

The very get-up of the book, with its rough bark-like binding, only bears out the author's idea of ruggedness