Search Results

prosperous, who had as a soldier been nursed by W. and was offering to send money, "with love and out of my

at one of the hospitals last night Miss Lowe just from Boston came to me and handed me the letters—My

My dear sir,I fear that the Passage to India is a poem too long and too abstract for the hasty and the

My dear Whitman,The Voice of the Rain does not tempt me, and I return it herewith with thanks.Yours ever

My dear Sir:I greatly regret being unable to avail myself of the Poems November Boughs which you so kindly

How deliciously like my old friend Henry Peterson is that critical exegesis on your lines!

So it would seem my words were prophetic.

Don't let Scovel print it (as the divvle did my note to him—wasn't I astonished!)

I wonder if my life-saving career draws to an end. March fourth comes near.

I can't put my hands on it just now." Friday, April 13, 1888.

He spoke of this today and as illustrating his notion gave me a letter from his table and called my attention

I was compelled to [take] many car rides in my transit to "the city."

birth—to such an one there is a debt due of allegiance and profound gratitude.I thank you Sir, with all my

I go to my home in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, tomorrow.

"With each month that passes I feel more and more uncertain on my pins.""

A little of it here and there I might say no to, but I guess my no wouldn't be very loud."

My friends here and there, both sides, do not realize how badly broken up I am. Another thing.

"After my dear, dear mother, I guess Lincoln gets almost nearer me than anybody else."

I want Horace to come down with his hatchet or come down and use my hatchet and open the box."

Whitman:I am very anxious not to leave this country without paying my respects to you, and bearing to

My judgment would, on the whole, the judgment I sent to The Herald, be considered unfavorable."

It more than meets my expectations: its serenity, its seriosity—which stops finely short of ministerial

You go as my representative." "All right. And what shall I say of the picture when I get there?"

"These are my visiting cards: I put them in my pocket when I go out."

My dear Walt Whitman:In London last week I met many mutual friends who were asking after you and wondering

Of course this suits me, born Democrat as I am, but I trust it will not at all disturb the future of my

My address is the Langhorne Hotel. Drop me a line.Yours faithfully,Joaquin Miller.

My Arnold piece did not appear in Tuesday's Herald.

I am myself of late years more inclined to sit still exploiting and expounding my views than was the

Walt Whitman, Esq.Dear Sir—I have tried in vain to obtain a good portrait of my father for you and am

traps—stored in garret or cellar of my new house where all things are at sixes and sevens.The one as

I am always uneasy about the inquirers when they come buzzing about: they get on my skin and irritate

don't say my say for me in the most conclusive way.

I am doing my job in my way: it don't suit them: they growl, curse, ridicule: but what is left for Walt

I have loved you for years with my whole heart and soul.

And yet I am a writer and make a living by my pen.

I am proud of my feeling for you.

Leaves of Grass," said W. tonight, "were neither moral nor literary, but were given with an eye to my

My old fencing-master, Boulet, (no better ever lived; he taught once at West Point,) taught me always

to cover my breast with hilt and point, even in the lunge, and I think of his lessons when engaged in

My aim has been to shut Chadwick up for good, for I don't want to be bothered on a side issue by this

Channing at Providence, red-hot for you, and proposing to reprint my Good Gray Poet at his expense!!

—Why should I trouble you with my pains? You have pains of your own." He paused for a minute.

"Neither did I for the most of my life: I hardly knew I had a stomach or a head for all the trouble I

I am told that Stoddard is pretty sour on me—hates even to have my name mentioned in his presence, never

"I am always sure that in some way my friends hear all that I say about them: all the love I say about

My dear friend and fellow toiler good bye.Yours faithfully,Joaquin Miller. Saturday, April 21, 1888.

To Tucker: "He has thumped me some for my emperor piece but is still my friend as I am still his friend

To O'Connor: "He, too, fell afoul of me for my emperor piece.

W. said to a visitor in my hearing: "The American people wash too much."

Whitman,I thank you heartily for my share in your Custer poem, which I have just read.

but I don't believe I deserved my friends."

My dear Whitman,I have your kind favor of the 11th with the enclosed poem—or series of poems, rather.

It did my eyes good to look away from him towards Tom—Tom, who is a normal man, gruff, honest, direct

W. took it from my hands and held it off from himself, regarding it with immediate approval and fondness

Millet is my painter: he belongs to me: I have written Walt Whitman all over him. How about that?

My word was not law, of course: they could have done anything they chose about it: but they asked my

Take my own method—if you call it that.

This does not mean that I am not careful: it only means that I try not to overdo my cake."

Be satisfied with my general assurance.

My heart is with all you rebels—all of you, today, always, wherever: your flag is my flag.

"I did not enjoy it: it was too sudden a change from my passive life in Camden: it was too much the New

Some of my best friends, coming into the suite of parlors, seeing the crowds about, with me in the midst

Bucke sent me my foot note, and I have made the change (Page 100).

Day by day, in these older years of my life, I see how lucky I was that I was myself thrown out early

I was in a sense a boy of the farm and the streets; it was my fate, my good fate.

Sometimes I do my duty: not always: not because I live by any special method. Duty, duty.

They talked about matter of fact things in a matter of fact way—about their aunts and uncles and my aunts

When I got up to leave and went across the room to W. he took and held my hand and said very seriously

me—it is urgent, persistent: he sort of stands in the road and says: 'I won't movetilluntil you answer my

I have had my own troubles—I have seen other men with troubles, too—worse than mine and not so bad as

This is my permanent address.

Yet I felt that if you liked my poem [See In Re Walt Whitman] you would write.

to you to have arrogantly confounded your own fine thought and pure feeling with the baser metal of my

There was a time—not long ago, either—when the mere pleasure of locomotion—of having my arms and legs

"I do not think so, though I do not remember all my callers.

I confess that my curiosity is slight, though I might like Frank at close quarters.

W. said: "Too much is often said—perhaps even by me—about my Quaker lineage.

From my young days, with Colonel Fellows, I determined I would some day bear my testimony to that whole

Add- ing, after looking in my face: "Don't feel bad about it—I don't."

They may be wrong in what they say of my book but they are not wrong in their love: love is never wrong

So I wonder over Kennedy—do not quite get him adjusted in my perspective.

I get to look for Bucke as I look for my breakfast." While we were talking Harned came in.

As I left W. held my hand for a long time (his hand was very warm) and said: "What I say of my head does

When I get better or well enough—on my feet again—I shall have him come over and talk while I listen.

it again: "I did a lot of that work in the hospitals: it was in a sense the most nearly real work of my

farewell for [the] present, and I pray that God may be with you, and though we are strangers I send my

As to L. of G.Leaves of Grass: "It does not seem like my book—it is your book, too: anybody's book who

I guess something—a lot—can be said on the conservative side: my contention is not that much cannot be

I explained my reason. Then he said with a laugh: "Bless you!"

"It was a mighty thin mess," he replied upon my questioning him, "no body to it all: only ignorance,

Give Morris my love when you see him.

He came at a time when my head was having one of its most infernal turns.

I told Johnston that Doctor Bucke had saved my life. That is true, too.

Had written nothing—"not even letters to Bucke, Burroughs and Kennedy—to whom I owe my biggest debts.

Some one in that discussion over the river presented my 'standpoint'—but suppose I have no conscious

That may be my fault.

McKean has no place—no room—no call for me or my kind." "Did he ever express himself to you?"

have no interest in him—when I look about in my world he is not in sight."

Now that my mind has got back to good weather again I feel more or less satisfied.

I have seen in the later years of my life exemplifications of devilishness, venom, in the human critter

which I could not have believed possible in my more exuberant youth—a great lump of bad with the good

I quoted an old woman, my friend, a Presbyterian, who said: "My head says hell but my heart won't say

and in their list a month or two after my arrival in London as a student of life and letters this year

If I can make that much gain I may be able to do my work.

Clifford wrote today: "My love to dear Walt Whitman.

He raised his head from the pillow: "My love to dear John Clifford!

I often find myself misplacing names, things—find that I must go back and rectify my errors—retrace my

steps—review my work."

My dear Sir,I hardly know through what a malign series of crooked events—absence chiefly on my part in

This is now framed and hangs in my bedroom.

My sister, Tom's wife, sent him a spring chicken.

It printed my Grant piece."

All my own tastes are towards books you can easily handle—put into your pocket.

"I am almost strong tonight—this has been my best day in five weeks." Mitchell over today.

to be the habit of some of the papers—some do it still when they want to fling themselves—to refer my

illness back to my dissipations.

in its literature, stands by the French—insists upon French supremacy: and William, you know, of all my

It took me some time to get down, or up, to my proper measure—to take my own measure—that is, a long

I can never answer my own question—never make up my mind.

I almost think if I had to ask fulfillment, the rock, now my saviour, my peace, would be my wreck, my

him he is often in my thoughts as I sit here in my den."

My purse and my heart are yours!" or to that effect.

Long have I kept my road—made my road: long, long!

s on my way home—5:45—but found he had just closed his blinds and meant to lie down.

"It is one of my resources." Harned had been in last night.

letters from the fellows there—from Johnston, Wallace—are mainly made up of thankfulness to me, to my

I felt to say to them, Diogenean-like, "All I ask is, that you keep out of my light."

It is my own feeling exactly.

Congress this time.The money I'm sending in this letter (about 15 dollars) is chiefly for "Good-Bye, My

Lastly, my youngest son, Maurice Buxton Forman, is likely to go out into the world soon—most probably

It ought to have been clearly understood by my letter and by Doctor's itself that there was to be no

Long had curiously said, "One of my doubts of Shakespeare is in the fact that no two men seem to agree

Yet that it is my notion something will have to be added.

s addresses, he remarking, "My friends always used to do that—do it still.

You remember my friend in Washington with his stacks of trunks—the Adam Express man?

McKay had called my attention to what was a defect in copyright page—W.'

Told him then of my letter from Johnston today. Did he wish to read? "No, I guess not.

I can never answer my own question—never make up my mind.

It is a question in my mind, whether the dash of insanity which Plato permits—even insists upon—for the

Asked me, "Is the general closed-inness of things I see out my window here prevailing in Philadelphia—on

Yet on my reminder he said, "I did notice something, yet did not know what. Of course, it's bad."

There's a doubt in my mind! Indeed I had forgot the book—it is not sent.

I find that I am large—that all my meannesses and doubts have dropped off." "Oh! that is noble! Oh!

And several times he declared, "You have opened my eyes to the best future I can see for the 'Leaves.

Indeed, I think my own Lincolnism was a good deal the result of William's pressure—Gurowski's.

That has been my own experience.

My Montreal venture was a decided success. Mrs.

It was distinctly wrong of W.S.K. to allude in print to my T. letter—just shows that you can not trust

begin at once, no end of meter work which must be done, some pressing family affairs requiring a lot of my

So my seeing him on way to Philadelphia is out of question. Nothing definite yet as to Wallace.

But had received slips, reprint of my third Post piece, from Johnston.

It was a holy peace—a quiet passing understanding—my memory meanwhile drowsily playing with all the events

ever read Talmage at all; perhaps to try to find some change for the better, some chance to revise my

And for my part I think he has gone about under fortunate conditions.

W. calls attention to "an English offer to publish my works abroad—for all England and for English readers

Ellis is a friend of Chubb's and wrote me warmly about my own book."

I laughed, "That would be poor revenge, from my standpoint!"

He has given me new meanings about my health. "Bucke and I discussed it.

"I must take some report of my talks back to the boys. They will expect it.

Displayed all my treasures but these—the greatest treasure of all.

And before it passes out of my mind, Horace, let me ask you: Wallace says you report Pete Doyle in Baltimore

I want to have it done, for my own purposes. And if you will inquire, why, do so!

Curiously—at tea—Wallace said, "I read some of my notes to Mrs.

Johnston had advised Warrie to do this thing (not of course knowing of my labor).

Wallace seemed rather aghast by the extent of my accumulations.

W. called my attention to a box on the floor.

For my name, work, appears many times.

heart to stand still at the inscription that met my eye!

My heart was strangely moved by this incident.

My best friends have been women. Put that in your pipe and smoke it."

W. said then too, "I was never more tickled then when one of the old priests told me that my politeness

postal for Bucke to mail, said of Forman he had given him power to treat with Balestier, "to act as my

My friends tell me—no, no, that is not for you, Wagner is for you.

I have friends, enough money, comfort—as good things as my age, my condition, will permit.

guard, my promise, yet past all possibility of demand.

I almost think if I had to ask fulfillment, the rock, now my saviour, my peace, would be my wreck, my

ruin, my night!

But you cannot know how these days of my waiting, this night-coming time of my life, are confident, happy

But on my insistence found it and brought out, Wallace inspecting for some time.

, give my love to both the others and tell them what I tell you now.

And my head gets such queer whirlings, like chestnuts in a pot—jumping, turning.

As W. fingered the book he was writing on on my entrance, he explained, laughing, "This is my old Virgil—you

It is the book I had in my carpet bag and burst a bottle of wine over in one of my trips to the army

After we had shaken hands, I said immediately, handing them out, "I have kept my part of the bargain:

W.: "Good, good—that would be my gospel, too, and this will help him to see America.

"Do so, do so—I will give you a copy of my book to take him. It will help you to open up."

My Annual Report is finished and sent off. I begin lectures to students Monday.

Wallace says, "I feel that my mission is about done. I might go home now, as well as later."

The eyes would be my main criticism."

"I don't remember, I only remember my impression: there seemed something awry, not just as I felt for

Do not print for the present: that would be my counsel."

The recurrence this night sent something of a pang to my heart, yet gladness too.

But I made him promise not to engage passage without my knowledge.

The Emerson letters were brought out (I had them in my pocket) and read aloud—Frank Williams the 1855

On my way to Camden we debated whether to go to W.'s at all.

I am here with most of my duds off—have been taking a wash, bath. Now must take care myself."

Then suddenly looking over my way (I was hid by the round table, piled full, that was between us, and

I would like to look at it at my leisure and long." After which our good-byes.

I feel better for my brush with the water." Not "a good day on the whole," however.

No, I thought Jennie was a sister—that was always my impression—but I may mistake the truth."