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  Dear Mr. Whitman

I hope this will find you well—or at least as well as usual. Our delightful Summer is over, my people are in London, and I am back here in Oxford again. It is curious how the old town wakes up when the term begins. The   streets fill up with students, the professors begin lecturing, the games & sports all begin, and the river is covered with boats. It reminds me of those things you see in shop windows or museums where you put five cents in the slot and everything begins going of a sudden. The new "Leaves   of Grass are very much appreciated here—indeed they are very nice.

Last night I sat up late reading L. of G. to a dear friend of mine who is paying me a visit. To-day has been a glorious, fresh October day, and as we have walked about we have felt so braced up & cheerful by   our reading. After all—though one does say it in a university town—life is more than theories about life, or pictures of it, or learning or rhymes. And even over Oxford there is the blue unsophisticated sky—

With love as ever Logan Pearsall Smith