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Trübner & Company, Dear Sirs, Please make out acc't account of sales of my books, Leaves of Grass &c.

for the closing year, & remit me am't amount due, by mail here, by draft payable to my order.

night Another grand day this—write this sitting on beach—the rising tide breaking in curling waves at my

My love to you & to HLT & the rest God bless you yours affectly J Johnston Dr.

35 quai des grandes Augustine"—279 pp. handy beautiful French style, paper—Nothing very different in my

affairs—the N Y Literary News for May has a notice —did you see that infernal farrago of my opinions

Vermont Saturday afternoon June 16 Are you well enough my dear brother for me to send you my love and

because the word used does not suit me, but neither in my head nor in my dictionary was I able to find

Ford Yours of Sept: 25th rec'd received —& accordingly I send you (same mail with this—same address) my

O. order — When you see Edward Carpenter tell him I am well & hearty (considering) & send him my love

here for a few days, after spending a week down on Long Island, mostly at West Hills and Cold Spring, my

parents' places of nativity—& my own place.

favors & attentions)—I rec'd received about a week ago the P O draft for $15.20 from Mr Fraser, for my

I am well, for me—am taking a rest from my three months' visit to New York—our heated term now here.

Nothing particularly new in my affairs.

bath—it is about 90 rods distant, & I walk there & back—Love, love, love, Your old Walt I still make my

Walt Whitman My Dear "Old Boy" I was so full, Sunday, of the "ample ether, and the divine air" of your

If you want me further, you know how to "whistle" & "I will come to you my lad .

Continued heavy headache—ate my breakfast—am sitting up most of the time—rest very poorly—still calculate

on this grip trouble passing over, but not in time for my 15th lecture in Phila: —I have now sent you

Dear boy, death has not blotted out my love for him, the remembrance will be not sad only but sweet.

You will either see me or hear of me in Brooklyn at my mother's, Louisa Whitman, Portland avenue, 4th

Now along toward the end of third week of grip that holds on by day & night like grim death on top of my

school of the great modern scientists & progressive metaphysicians—Sh'l probably have to give up reading my

monotonous & lonesome, as I can hardly get around at all—often remain in the house all day, most of my

time in the big chair by the window—afternoons are the worst & most tedious—happily my spirits keep

Give my regards to Mr.

Forman and tell him that I have nothing definite to say at the present about an English ed. edition of my

'91— Yrs of 26th July this mn'g —(this is the 3d)—Rather blue with me this week—but I keep up & eat my

Bolton—Horace here daily—am writing nothing for print—letter f'm friend Johnston N Y jeweller yesterday—give my

London Ontario Canada August 21 '80 My dear Sir Some six months ago, you wrote me (I was then laid up

ill in St Louis) that you had purchased the electrotype plates of the 1861 Boston ed'n edition of my

Oberlin Ohio Aug 9th 1867 Mr Whitman Dr Dear sir I take this opportunity to inform you that I have made my

trip to Wisconsin and returned here yesterday, and will soon be in Washington and hope my orders will

how often I have heard that—'my misery! my misery!'—down there in the South!

I must submit to my untoward fate."

When I got over and looked through my pockets for W.'

"I see that—I see its truth: I was quite reckless in my earlier days.

my book and what it stands for—or what they think it stands for.

"It is my invariable test of a doctor, his not too-great certainty.

Ed says W. suggested to him: "I should rather eat my crust on my own dung hill than a good meal on another's

I wrote in one of my letters to Doctor that Stedman was mad.

To Brahms I owe my redemption from the ultra-Wagnerian school.

The fact is I renewed my musical youth by his acquaintance.

Therefore have I rummaged over the garners of my observation and memory for the following anecdotes—and

When my mother was a girl, the house where she and her parents lived was in a gloomy wood, out of the

When nightfall came, and my grandfather did not return, my grandmother began to feel a little uneasy.

My grandmother sprung to the door, but upon opening it, she almost fainted in my mother's arms.

For there stood D ANDY , saddled and bridled, but no signs of my grandfather.

My own explanation was, that somebody or other plagued him for a piece—offered him 50 pounds, guineas

To my idea, "Arnold is not discriminate' W. returned, "I don't know—I should hardly say it that way:

of his demonstrations—his praises; perhaps the fact that I was so addressed tended to excuse him in my

My brother George was there, and they sat together and had quite a chat.

had many such espousers in Washington [some] time ago—perhaps have still—these fellows belonged among my

And John—though I should not call him a don, yet is my friend, seems unaltered towards me.

man as William O'Connor—so born critic he was—warned me in those early years in Washington, to put my

I wished to show this to my father.

"My friend John Reed, himself an Englishman, used to pass here daily, but now that I want to see him,

Thought I should take Schmidt's portrait also to show my father.

I had under my arm a big bundle of Saturday's Posts just got from Bonsall.

to send copies to Burroughs, Kennedy, and one or two others, asking me for four for his own use—"for my

However, I showed him my yesterday's letter from Baker, which he read, looked at, grew pathetic over.

For my own Saturday's notes W. could say, "I liked them—they were successfully joined.

My same complaint, my same reason!" This interested W. "Poor Baker, gone under by the same current.

I was glad you gave Emma Price my direction here, I should like to hear from Mrs Price & her girls first

got along better than I would have thought, but the last week I have felt it more, have felt it in my

head a little—I no more stir without my umbrella, in the day time, than I would without my boots.

I am afraid of the sun affecting my head, & move pretty cautious—Mother, I think every day, I wonder

I send you my love, dear mother, & to all, & wish Jeff & you to write as often as you can— Walt Whitman

Am Hof, Davos Platz, Switzerland August 3 1890 My dear Master I received your card of July 20 in due

But it was then too late to alter the reference in my own essay on "Democratic Art" w. had been printed

I hope to have a second edition of my "Essays Speculative & Suggestive" (for only 750 copies were printed

For my own part, after mature deliberation, I hold that the present laws of France & Italy are right

It has not infrequently occurred to me among my English friends to hear your "Calamus" objected to, as

"A monument to outlast bronze," comes from the first line of Horace's Ode 3.30: My Monuument.

My dear friend It is just dawn, but there is light enough to write by, and the birds in their old sweet

My first knowledge of you is all entangled with that little garden.

My chief reason for writing (so I put it to myself) is that I can't help wishing you should know that

Because you have, as it were, given me a ground for the love of men I thank you continually in my heart

And for my sake you must not mind reading what I have written.

them to give me the copy to make some little corrections—which I did effectually by going straight to my

And how goes it with you, my dear? I watched the N.

allow themselves to be squeezed into the stereotype mould, and wear straight collars and hats, and say "my

could go dead head if I was to apply—Jeff, I feel as if things had taken a turn with me, at last—Give my

love to Mat, and all my dear brothers, especially Georgie.

The Brown habitues were more to my taste.

he came to Brown's studio though not in my time.

If my friends would understand me— if the group of my friends wished to recognize the salient meanings—if

My own choice would have been hard to tell—I embrace, include, all.

my proof-desk.

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

I quoted my observation made in a discussion about W.

I am, everywhere in my talking and writing, making your claims felt and shall continue to do so.

W. exclaimed, breaking in: "Read it again: I want to get it clear in my noddle for keeps!"]

I hope to be able please you with my treatment of your great work.

That country out there is my own country though I have mainly had to view it from afar.

50-51uva.00023xxx.00085City of my walks and joyslate 1850spoetryhandwritten1 leaf8.5 x 10 cm pasted to

City of my walks and joys

if the statistics of crime, &c., are forwarded by the 15th instant, they will reach me in time for my

Please accept my thanks for crime statistics S. C. your courtesy and attention in this matter.

pri.00035xxx.00808[Returned from my four months]1879–1882prose1 leafhandwritten; A short note in which

[Returned from my four months]

aplomb in the midst of irrational things, Imbued as they, passive, receptive, silent as they, Finding my

woods or of any farm-life of these States or of the coast, or the lakes or Kanada Canada , Me wherever my

SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance

it seems to me if I could know those men better, I should become attached to them, as I do to men in my

own lands, It seems to me they are as wise, beautiful, benevolent, as any in my own lands; O I know

than old Voltaire's, yet greater, Proof of this present time, and thee, thy broad expanse, America, To my

and tide, Some three days since on their own soil live-sprouting, Now here their sweetness through my

aplomb in the midst of irrational things, Imbued as they, passive, receptive, silent as they, Finding my

woods or of any farm-life of these States or of the coast, or the lakes or Kanada Canada , Me wherever my

SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance

M Oct: 7 '87 Dear friend Yours with the $12 has reach'd me safely—making $800 altogether sent me by my

late—was out driving yesterday, & shall probably go out for an hour this afternoon—Thanks to you & my

89 Y'r card just rec'd —papers come regularly—thanks—Nothing very different with me—Still imprison'd—my

dilapidation not mending (slowly gradually worse if any thing, but not much change)—am preparing my

dinner, baked shad & champagne galore —jolly company —enjoy'd all with moderation —No, the Mr Smith, my

Costelloe, my staunchest living woman friend—the Librarian Logan Smith, (now dead) was his brother—Did

I thank you, dear sir, in their name, and in my own, as the organ of your charity.

My friend, I must meet you soon again.

Freiligrath: I have sent you to-day by ocean mail, a copy of my latest printed Leaves of Grass —not knowing

My address is, Walt Whitman, Washington, D. C. U. S.

March 8 .90 My dear dear .

I am today sending back proof sheets of my new book " To the Czar ." I hope to tear his bowels out.

Sep. 16th 189 1 My Dear Walt Whitman For the sake of the good your works & life have done me I should

the sea—but—I found a family affair, which caused me some astonishment & some pain which took up all my

June 18 188 8 My dear Mr.

Whitman:— I read with sorrow of your severe illness and beg to offer my sympathy.

Floyd, Dear Sir, As far as I can tell by my impression—which is a very vague one, for I have never seen

I am still unwell from my cerebral trouble—but still looking for better times, & counting on them.

My Dear Madam and Friend: I was expecting to visit New York early this month, and intended to call and

acknowledge the receipt of the poem and to say that when I come on, I shall personally call and pay my