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My surprise is, not that they feel it or say it among themselves, but that they are damned fools enough

It's the story over again of my woman friend in Washington who complained that whereas her sister, who

My main objection to him, if objection at all, would be, that he is too eulogistic—too flattering.

are in personal relations with him, convey him my hearty though belated congratulations?

In the midst of my reading, others entering, W. suggested I begin over again, which I did.

"My head and my heels tell me so."

My life from my bed to my chair, from my chair to my bed again, is tedious, but endurable."

so—in my friends than in my enemies."

W. writing a note to Harper Brothers who have asked permission to print My Captain in their Fifth Reader

Said to me: "It's My Captain again: always My Captain: the school readers have got along as far as that

He picked up my hand and pressed it.

"You are my one vital means of connection with the world—the one live wire left.

I shook my head. "No?" "No.

I said: "Perhaps my father can do it: I'll ask him."

I want to be generous: I'll share my possessions with you."

would print me correctly—use the right marks—not misrepresent: I hate commas in wrong places: I want my

i's dotted, my t's crossed."

"Here's a slip too: Democracy in Literature: my own: it's yours if you want it: file it away: I have

My dear Walt,I regret to say I was unable to do anything with the proof of Personalism.

He said: "Give my love to your mother." And he picked up a big apple from the table.

Some of my best friends—my own people—accuse me (have always accused me) of procrastination—the most

That might apply wonderfully well to my case." He was silent.

And yet he added: "My physical disabilities don't affect my power to think: no: not at all: but they

increase my inertia: they paralyze my fingers, for instance, so I don't want to write: but my brain keeps

My dear Horace:Yours of 18th just to hand.

"My first feeling about Howells' piece," he said, "is wholly indifference."

"That depends: I am not at all settled in my own notions on the subject as yet."

If I say it's not in my line then it's not in my line: that's the end of it: that settles it: do you

"Perhaps I would: perhaps I wouldn't: not my line: that's my say: let's stop right there."

I think you will like it as well as my first letter.

I shook my head. "Not at all." He laughed gently. "Dry as hell, wasn't it?

My dear Horace:I have yours of the 14th this morning. All quiet.

head: that my head will stand by me to the last."

I had Bucke's letter in my pocket. "How do you come to that conclusion?" I asked.

"I got two anonymous letters in my mail today." "Where are they now?" He smiled.

December 3, 1867.My dear Mr.

I cannot and will not consent of my own volition to countenance an expurgated edition of my pieces.

I boil: burn up: but often I keep my mouth shut: I am a slow mover: I don't hurry even in my tantrums

That infernal damned meter's getting on my nerves.

"My head and my heels tell me so."

"Yes: that seems to be my life: from the bed to the chair: back to the bed again.

to which he said at once: "I'm never in fact conscious of it: I've never been so bad but my sickness

Eldridge thinks that my publishers are dealing honestly with me.

When one of my books was published they sold the first six months 733 copies.

"I was hoping I'd put my hand on something more significant.

'Well, my young smithkin, you don't believe that? you dissent from that?' 'Yes, I do.' 'Ah!

I have asked myself in the face of criticism of my own work: 'Should I reply—should I expose, denounce

But my final conviction has always been that there is no better reply than silence.

While I am working in my shop the very wood seems written all over with them.

He seems to be very genuine.I send you my last essay—on Ouida. Have you read her Tricotrin?

"I cannot fix the details all accurately in my mind: I get a little rusty sometimes."

"John published that against my persuasions—O'Connor's too: our strong objections: but now I know, we

If you have, I wish you would give me a line of introduction to him for my brother Bertie (Albert) who

But I must wait till my lecture to the Nineteenth Century Club, on Feb. 7, is past.Dr.

"I know: don't you see me on my knees? I admire his I'll do as I damned please ways."

I would not have put it a cent below ten dollars if I had had my way.

W. and Harned both broke in on my reading vigorously.

"When I get out again my first visit will be to that baby."

ideas—break my spirit."

"That's the copy I used to take to the play with me—in my pocket: carried along in my walks: kept with

It is indeed to these mostly my habits are adjusted. I have good health.

My dismissal from employment in 1865, by the Secretary of the Interior, Mr.

Nothing in my life, or my literary fortunes, has brought me more comfort and support every way—nothing

to Ellis and Green, of London, to publish my poems complete and verbatim.

And he has a companion in that: my dear enemy Dick: Richard Henry Stoddard.

—that I invited him here, that he was my guest!—the young scamp that he is!

You know, my friends tell me I am very slow to get mad: very slow: I rarely get mad but when I do I'm

"But Mary respected the death-wish: the situation grew worse and worse: I had my carriage then: Bill

I suppose it comes from my being much run down.I am glad you liked the photo.

I have no doubt her article is good, and when I have read it, I mean to write her my thanks.

reading an account of it: and of Mars and Jupiter and Venus: I never used to miss them: often spend my

I would sometimes try my eyes on the most distant visible stars—the familiar stars."

outdoors: that's the worst aspect of my confinement."

W. asked him to "give my love" to Mrs.

then I've a good man on my side, haven't I?" Picked up the Bucke portrait again.

and don't want to be both outdoors and indoors: a certain element of irresponsibility is mixed with my

It forms the staple for a number of my lectures on the literature of Democracy.Our friend Baxter had

Every now and then someone goes away after a visit here telling the most monstrous stories of my being

One of the worst features of my confinement here is that fact that I am in the north room, obliged to

If I could talk into a machine—if I didn't have to use a pen—my troubles would be over."

my soul."

the end of my tether."

I talked awhile ago of my old man who was afraid of Catholicism.

My presence would spoil the soup."

I said my good night and left. Monday, February 4, 1889

"I want to be ready for you: you are the oasis in my desert."

I asked him: "Do you really feel that way about my coming?

He says: "I keep myself down: I don't worry the strength out of my body: my one word is conservation.

He adds: "I have to subject all my rebellious moods to the necessities of my corporeal self."

He took my dare beautifully meek, I must say.

She said: "Oh, I haven't paid my visit: now I'll say goodnight: I'll not see you again tonight."

Morse went on: "But I shall take them to the Art Institute when I go—my lecture is postponed on account

The police captains kicked vigorously against that judge's decision, but have finally quieted down."

"I may write something with it as my text."

Better than my other books?' 'Oh, much better,' and he named the figures.

I wasted many of my own opportunities."

He would not permit my defense of Oldach.

I put my hand over my heart. "From in here." He wanted to know: "Have you a safe guide in there?"

I explained: "I don't mean my future beyond this life but my future here." W.'s face lighted up.

W. poked his thumb up before my eyes.

He started up instantly on my quiet entrance. "Oh!"

You have touched a chord that always induces my sympathy."

I looked at my watch. He asked: "Haven't you time?"

over the manuscript to my colleague.

I wanted to send Minden my translation of Starting from Paumanok, with my preface to the work and Freiligrath's

W. said: "Maurice says the new leaves and flowers will be my best medicine when spring comes.

It aroused my ire: has a scurrilous little paragraph on the Colonel: a mean, dirty little paragraph:

: "It is very companionlike of her to say that: I thank her deeply: such goodwill serves to appease my

I folded it and put it away in my pocket. W. asked: "Well: have you any thoughts about it?"

Left word with my father for me to say to W. his feet were too bad for him to try to get to Mickle street

Consults with my father concerning these.

My life from my bed to my chair, from my chair to my bed again, is tedious, but endurable."

With my help W. closed the blinds, shoved the chairs about into position and lighted the gas.

dedicate" my book.

"I am a prisoner," he said, smilingly, "but you are not my jailer."

Then after a pause: "Indeed, far from that: you are in fact my deliverer."

At present my brain is just mud—I have a heap of letters unanswered.

My own health is pretty good.

It has reduced my weight about ten per cent. My belly has gone away as if I had been confined.

W. replied: "Considering the condition of the rest of my body the immunity enjoyed by my topknot is marvellous—even

W. said: "It is one of the admonitions of my Doctor not to see people—not to talk: but then I am a disobedient

W. gave me what he called "another tidbit" for my "archeeves."

"My opinion is that I have no opinion!

My dear Sir,Yours of 27 January, and Leaves of Grass, received.

and therefore my allusion to it.

I had told Dowden of my not having received any reply to my cards or letters and my apprehension that

That's all there is to my hoarding up these records—as you call it.

Symonds' piece reminded me, reminds me, of Captain Cuttle—the queer Captain Cuttle."

"The Captain would say in his own inimitable style: 'If the ship has gone down then she has gone down—if

My hope is, as the boys say, that it 'gets its roots in': you have heard that expression, eh?

My friends could never understand me, that I would start out so evidently without design for nowhere

"All my life here," he said, "is made up of pathetically little things: yet I don't know but all life

He laughed over my phrase "prosaically poised."

"That is my sufficient reward.

"That is so: I was just in my beginnings then—just coming out."

I owned up to my suspicions of Carnegie.

"The Bible: my black book—the English Bible." We found it.

W. said about himself: "I still have trouble with my head but it is no worse."

W. said: "But my point of view is also O'Connor's—or, rather, his is mine."

Clifford wrote today: "My love to Walt. 'Dear Walt Whitman!'

A bandaged hand prevents my writing, and everything is in arrears with me.W.S.K.'

As soon as I get the free use of my hand, I will write to him, as you suggest.

"Then my displacement occurred: then I came to grief: there's nothing but my old hulk left."

He smiled over my latest skepticism.

I certainly fell over my own feet that time.

My memory never played me such a mean trick: I've had horrible experiences to meet, endure—but my memory

I took the note out of my pocket again and offered it to W.

I remember that a doctor said to me once down in Virginia, when I shook my head: 'What?

I showed him my letter of the 16th, received today.

think of it: I have sent him my pieces, put my price on them, been paid that price: an important item

And I wish to put in my best greeting to Mrs.

He noticed my interest. "Do you like it? then take it along."

["My wings may be free but the same can't be said of my backside!"]

My friends call me Bram. I live at 43 Harcourt St., Dublin.

But go on: may the good Lord have mercy on my soul!"]

I say it to my own shame but not to my regret for it has taught me a lesson to last my life out—without

for a copy of my new edition has just been received.

W. then: "That other man was my friend: he was in Canada, Stead in England: curious, wasn't it?"

original poem I wrote—three page poem [Whispers of Heavenly Death] sent him from me, but demurs to my

I repeat, that I distinctly reserve the right of printing the piece in a future edition of my poems.

only crude—yet has some good points in it, which I took in.I am in great mourning that I can't get my

Well," exclaimed W., when I laid the letter down on my knee and looked at him: "Well—that is a fusillade

W. reading Lippincott's, which he put down on my entrance.

My sister was here: George's wife, I mean—my sister-in-law: she did not stay long: she is a comforting

"I have been more on my bed than on my chair today." Little reading. "I only skimmed the papers."

Meanwhile I am up to my eyes—and over my eyes even to blindness—in the slough of a fearful road to that

to have of my object in calling on you.

I remember my call this day a year ago. He gave me a copy of Passage to India. A year hence!

Give my love to W.W.

Some of my friends want your books and are forwarding the money through me.

I have been showing the photographs you gave me to my sister Dora—whose likeness you have.

preparations for my winter course of lectures.

Still harping on my daughter. Spoke of the News piece again.

"Hardly: sermons are hardly my specialty."

These are all that have reached my hands up to date: there may possibly be something besides in the hands

The last person on the list, R.B.C., is Earl Russell: he writes me: "I do not wish my name to be published

my love to a living soul.

And I am still all these and much moreover.I glory in my mutability and my vast receptivity.

I glory in my invincible supremacy over prejudice, my superb contempt for custom.

He is the author of all my suffering, but he hath redeemed my soul. And alas!

(I have expunged the word "SIN" from my writings.)

work and having my jaunts together.

I will call on you on my way back to New York.

So my dear old friend I have protected your interests to the best of my judgment and if you want me to

I would also like you to answer my letters.

All right my dear J.

"Here are the proofs—but, Horace, do not rely upon my readings.

In fact, all my experiences South—all my experiences in the hospitals, among the soldiers in the crowds

Then read.Montenotte, Cork,Sept. 3, 1872.My dear Mr.

My address is as before, 50, Wellington Road, Dublin.

He took my hand—pressed it fervently. "I am in luck. Are you?

"My today's mail has been chiefly an autograph mail.

Not a day but the autograph hunter is on my trail—chases me, dogs me!

I settle myself in my chair, get the glasses on my nose, and lo! every note is for an autograph.

Amer—about April 10, I shall return here again and my address will be—— I am writing this at my desk—as

My mind advises me that I must suspend operations for to-nighttonight.

As to leaving this place just now—it is impossible—out of the question: my legs would not take me if

If I went off somewhere into more complaisant surroundings—had servants at my beck, the best of food,

I might be tempted some——I could not be tempted enough to go—my decision would be finally reverse."

"I like to get all my relations with people personal, human.

Whitman.Some days ago came my parcel—many thanks—Mr. Grosairt's books included. That for Mr.

adding after my reply: "I see I am all right: I often use the word and yet lose the sense of it.

It is queer, too, Childs being so unmistakably my friend.

I imagine that it is an act of religion in McKean not to patronize a man of my make.

Some of my enemies are malignants—for instance, Littlebill Winter, as O'Connor calls him, and Stoddard

He said: "I believe in the higher patriotism—not, my country whether or no, God bless it and damn the

says: "There is some peculiar atmospherical influence which reacts strangfely upon the chemistry of my

impossible—really felt that it was out of the question—but after he had gone I turned the matter over in my

W. said of it: "My mind is a slow one—it never hustles: I don't seem to know yet what I think of the

He got up from his chair in rather painful fashion, took my arm, and went with me into the back room.

I for my part don't want to be either haughty or humble.

Yet, such are the drains of the heat on my small treasure of strength, that the vim I had (Lord knows

I have had the book a couple of years (Gabriel sent it to me himself: he is my personal friend) but have

in the matter you can't hit a landlord too often, Irish or American, and if you hit and don't hear my

Put the photo for the frontispiece in my hands: "I leave it all to you fellows to do right with: if you

of my own make."

"My body is a splendid barometer." Gave him today's Herald containing the Sheridan piece.

I never wrote one, never even got it laid out, but never forgot my intention.

of my book?

I always decided against it—always came round to one conclusion—always planted my heel on the temptation

"I see what it all means—it is in accord with my own experience with me: a man of heart often suffers

My impression of W's appearance at this date is a favorable one: though it is clear enough that his recent

Often he points me about the rooms: "Poor as these are, they are a comfort to me—my own—giving me freedom

My only uncompromising friend in the family is probably Watson—he swears to me—not everything in me,

When I was in Denver I spent my longest hours in contemplation of the mountain ranges."

I took off my hat to the compliment.

Bucke today referred to my letters in writing to W. This was a mistake.

But my first impression was a bad one and I have not moved from it.

"My half is in seeing you tickled," he replied.

My friends were fewer than my enemies but they blew a trumpet loud enough for everybody to hear."

That fits my intentions to a t—describes my ideal absolutely.

experiment: I would no more force my reading than my writing.

there are points here which I have not considered—which are not quite familiar table-talk to me—but my

first impression, my original instinct, (I can only give that) is adverse, critical, though not, of

have known so many yet so few—so few with the full equipment—one or two (not more than two) in all my

I said to W.: "I've still got the Rossetti letter in my pocket."

He sat in his armchair reading the Press, but at once took the Herald out of my hands.

I can honestly say that I like to hear all that is to be said in criticism of my work, my life: but you

My vehemence amused him.

That will be my good-bye to the letter.

The world must move on without my fighting for it."

hasn't my prosperity walked on its uppers almost from the start?"

In any event, I hope to hear your address and to see you at my office.

I am anxious to have one or more contributions from you for my Cyclopedia for which we pay ten dollars

I'm afraid my pen let loose would have seemed out of character in such a place: my pen tied up I haven't

I tell you, Horace, it's no fun for words when they get in my hands, though the howlers may not know