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I had written to Mead asking another month for my Whitman article, and he proves content, to that or

Then of my trip. Always brightens up when so humored.

He said to-nighttonight playfully: "You must always answer my questions even though I don't always answer

I said: "You don't answer my questions—that 'sthat's true.

Every day or night I spend four five or six hours among my sick, wounded, prostrate, boys.

Some of my boys get well, some die.

Said he had heard Doctor Garrison was better: "I was glad, too, to hear that—he has always been my friend

I had Tolstoy's My Confession with me. I gave it to him.

He rose from the bed—went to the chair with my assistance.

"I have had the books—or my mother—I think since '41-nearly fifty years.

In the final sense they are not records of my life—of my personal life—of Walt Whitman—but scripture

To have had my book and my cause fall into his hands, in London, in the way they have, I consider one

This prevented my getting round to see either Ingersoll, Adler or Baker.

My heart would have taken me to Ingersoll's in evening.

I am glad to hear that W. seems better—that is at least so much against my gloomy foreboding.All quiet

Very bright: talkative: voice vigorous: stayed on the bed during my visit.

Said; "I hold my own: I am a shattered man: but I keep my head up, which is a great thing."

He described himself as "relapsed to what I call my shaky half paralytic condition. Dr.

I remarked: "If he keeps my letters, they alone must fill a trunk."

On my getting ready to go out he said: "The last thing to be done is to put down the light."

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.

s, finding at my mother's on the way this special delivery letter from the Telegram office: The Evening

"It was my first struggle in that field and it will be my last." Sunday, February 14, 1892

Called my attention to a score or so of prints, [illegible] heads from Appleton's Cyclopedia of American

He spoke of the photograph on the mantel as that "of one of my London Socialistic friends—admirers."

"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.

My inquiries developed that he was looking for a cork to stop a little bottle on the table.

cologne, but somehow the cork is gone—utterly gone—at least for the present, and I'll have to postpone my

"The scoundrelly cork is here somewhere—but not here to my asking.

I think I inherit from my father a disinclination to throw anything away—I keep every odd and end that

Scrawled to Bucke a note in which I enclosed the Doctor's and my bulletins for a month.

8 Feb 1891My dear HoraceMany thanks for your kind note of 4th and W. your kind and deep interest in my

way—it is well for us to work anyway for our own sakes if not for the sake of others—therefore work my

W. asked me about my seeing Richelieu (Booth) last night. Then of actors in general.

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.)

My early round not so early as through the week. Ed Stafford in parlor chatting with Warrie.

Several times in my stay of half an hour he called Warrie by ringing the bell.

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."

At 328 on my homeward way. W. passed an average day.

It made my heart glad. McAlister had left his weekly report for me to forward to Bucke.

The springs break forth like the table there—like my head—like my leg—like my arm—all sizes and forms

"I suppose it is good—it is reputed good, but I can't take it, which people say is my fault not the fault

No other method would accomplish my purpose.'" I asked W., "Do you think he was right?"

He listened attentively to my descriptions of going about and said: "Good! Good!"

McKay smoking his cigar—I with my book under my arm. Beguiled the time with talk.

It was always my impression that he did—that he was the first.

My dear Walt: I duly got your letter of May 5th and was glad to hear from you.

"My darling darling mother!"

The O'Connor home was my home: they were beyond all others—William, Nelly—my understanders, my lovers

Take my darling dear mother: my dear, dear mother: she and I—oh!

oh my, hardly the Leaves!

general: they were my unvarying partisans, my unshakable lovers—my espousers: William, Nelly: William

so like a great doing out of the eternal—a withering blast to my enemies, a cooling zephyr to my friends

"I shall make my best show to read them." Asked me about temperature—news, etc.

greeted each other lovingly and he said at once, "I am here still, dear, you see—and trying to eat my

Was up to see my father and the picture, with which now he expressed himself perfectly satisfied, the

—Dear comrade, I still live here as a hospital missionary after my own style, & on my own hook—I go every

I have cut my beard short & hair ditto: (all my acquaintances are in anger & despair & go about wringing

Then around my majestic brow around my well-brimmed felt hat—a black & gold cord with acorns.

I had to give up health for it—my body—the vitality of my physical self: oh!

My body?

He did not move at my entrance nor did I disturb him. Then to Philadelphia. (Mrs.

This is now my own personal, authenticated volume—sealed, signed, made as it stands, by me, to so remain

It is my ultimate, my final word and touch, to go forth now, for good or bad, into the world of the future

left with him.Speaking again of his condition, "I am weak—weak—weak, but everybody is so kind to me, my

Give my love to Walt.

Fragments of our talk will betray themselves as I discuss points with W. in days after my return.

"No," he said to my question, "I have not read it all—it is solid reading"—his tone implying "too solid

I had my much-marked pocket copy of Leaves of Grass with me.

"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.

.: "I suppose—anything—any change to a man in my condition is comfort." After a pause.

He held my hand warmly, and I could feel its grasp loosen and fasten from time to time.H.L.T.: "I sent

He held my hands tightly—twice saying almost in a whisper, "God bless you, boy: God bless you—bless you

Chubb could not have heard, and it shook my heart. Then the final good night and kiss and escape.

was his parting and my own was silence.Now again to Philadelphia and not back to 328 till ten.

He seemed to see an inquiry in my looks. "It don't go very well," he remarked. "I am not up to it."

I took the two Ingersoll articles out of my pocket and gave them to him.

Give him my regards."

They set my head in a whirl—mixes me all up—and besides hurts my throat.

I am not sure but that is the point—and my deficiency!" Passing along, "Who have you seen today?"

Showed him the beginnings of my Lippincott's piece, with which he expressed his content.

Stopped in on my way to the city. All well there.

But he resented my explanation. Insisted that the cords were short.

It is your very worst habit: it gives my vanity, complacency, many a jar!"

The affair" (my dismissal) "was settled upon before I knew it."

What instinct ever drove him to my desk?

would make my blood as thin as possible, and so lessen the arterial strain.

Well, my time has come—that is all. You see, I am somewhat of a fatalist!"

I take it my spirit sense of your condition is not likely to fail after all.

For all, accept my friendliest good wishes."Direct, W. W. Solicitor's office.

I get published, in spite of my enemies." "Your enemies never really hurt you?"

—though I doubt if you can catch a good 200 lbs., which I believe I still weigh, in spite of my emaciation

then to my affirmative response: "If I keep on in this way I shall by and by have a Hebrew clientage—and

And he said still again: "And all my Hebrew friends are turning out to be among the young—you would call

the rest of my days in that vicinity.

happiest hours have been spent there—some of my freest hours."

Upon my remonstrance he said: "I will make it a religion to like the new man."

He took it out of my hand, scanned it, handed it back.

"If I die in the midst of things you may fall heir to all my work: think of that: all my work!"

He admitted he had been a little twitted by my letter (the first), but I readily made that easy.

(W. says, "That is right: that fixes me right in my average personality.")

And my trip profited, with respect to the task I am to set about and a better acquaintanceship with her

that I would not adopt some of his suggestions, but always comforted himself with saying, "It's not my

"The text is a little mixed up," W. said of it apologetically: "My mind is not now-a-days a perfect machine

"My brain often takes speed and is away—gets rein-free and flies without will or plan—and I am helpless

"My whole soul revolts against that line: my very first feeling was one of utter disgust."

My place in Washington was a peculiar one—my reasons for being there, my doing there what I did do.

I do not think I quite had my match.

W. answering my inquiry said: "No, I didn't go down stairs today.

it won't hurt me: my caution, you remember, is six and over!

I quoted this: "I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother." "Yes," said W.

I reminded W. of one of my sisters similarly afflicted.

Here—take this bunch with my blessing and be happy.

My advice about that fellow would be, to let him alone—let him severely alone.

And again, "My charge would be—drop him—he is not worth a word."

W. said, "I shall write Doctor—send my letter over by Warrie (Warrie will undoubtedly go—undoubtedly)

I usually make my address as full as I know.

I am sure that if I had my legs and a boat, it would be a day for me."

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

was originally intended as a sort of barricade: I set it up to hold back the desperate assaults of my

a condition of half-suspended life"—adding: "Do you just keep things moving until I get balanced on my

Stopped at Osler's on my way to church. Not at home.

I hate to have anybody around, right in my room, watching me. Maurice, do I need to be watched?"

I trust that you have not so far forgotten my article as to think my meaning was that attributed to me

Reached Camden 8:15, and after breakfast and a bath, and examining my mail, down to W.'s.

Among various letters come since my going away was this: Elmwood, Cambridge1st June, 1891Dear Sir,I very

greatly regret that, owing to an accident, your letter, though it reached my house, did not reach me

I should have been glad to add my felicitations & good wishes to yours had it been possible.Faithfully

I shall put it in my report as a footnote. W. advised simply, "Do as you will."

My mother used to tell us often about my father—that his love for the youngsters and for cattle was marvellous—simply

then explained, "I have a spice of wickedness in me—a vein that makes me rejoice to tell Bucke of my

—"It was to distinguish me from my father originally and then the name held.

Whitman does not surprise or startle me: I take quite naturally to that, too—though my friends, young

I had no bars up against my freedom—always went whither I list.

Smooth my way—with all the aches and pains I've had for a week!

Asked me to have my sister Gussie prepare him some mutton—described how, &c., with amusing detail.

This is my Harned day. I wonder if the Harned Sundays will ever return?"

Was very particular to have me keep up my writing to O'Connor and Bucke.

He called my attention to it. I asked: "Are you sure this is not a love letter?

leaves,—"I have heard so often of this book—been spoken to so often about it—it is time I had it in my

"It is one of my books there on the floor."

"I have discarded my old comb and brush—though I rarely use a brush.

I asked W. if my observation of W.'

It has always been so: it is a part of my ancestral quality persisting and saving.

I was in Germantown all day, going there of set purpose to display my manuscript to Clifford and have

him criticise my plans.

"I am afraid if I don't pay my debt to Hicks now I will never do it at all.

And it is a sort of filial debt, too—a debt I owe my father, who loved Hicks."

He said: "On my bad days I like to kiss you good bye.

He grew very quiet, looked very gently into my face, pressed my hand, and turned to the window.I copy

I can't for my poor self at any rate. But never mind this.