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2 3   Dear Mary Smith

Your second letter (dated July 9) came an hour ago—welcomed, & read twice already—the acc't of the Toynbee? Hall doings & chat deeply interesting to me—I think much of all genuine efforts of the human emotions, the soul & bodily & intellectual powers, to exploit themselves for humanity's good—the efforts in themselves, I mean (sometimes I am not sure but they are the main matter)—without stopping to calculate whether the investment is tip-top in a business or statistical point of view. These libations, ecstatic life-pourings as it were of precious wine or rose-water on vast desert sands or great polluted river—taking chances for returns or no returns—what were they (or are they) but the theory & practice of the beautiful God Christ? or of all divine personality?

   

We have had a week of furious hot weather here—& are having it yet—(seems to have concentrated in & around Philadelphia)—I keep pretty well, considering—dont go out at all till toward sundown, but get on the river two or three hours afterwards every even'g—I send in Phil. Press my last little piece—you must chew upon it a little—my inward idea in it being the least literary or poetical, & most physiological & scientific—

My last letter from Dr. Bucke spoke of his going off with a sick friend & relative to the Canadian Rockies, a jaunt of six or seven weeks—I have heard lately from John Burroughs—he has been writing quite a piece ab't Matthew Arnold, which I tho't​ thought​ at first I w'd send you, but I believe I won't—as it is not very clear or encouraging—rather discouraging—

   

Ab't myself & my own affairs there is nothing new or special to write, Mary dear. My house-lady Mrs. Davis continues to be in every respect (handiwork & atmosphere) the very best and most acceptable that could have befallen me—Hot as it is, & with several kind invitations away, I remain for the summer at my shanty in Mickle Street—upon the whole it is best for me—

Mary, I hope your next letter will tell me of a visit to Mrs. Gilchrist—As I close it suggests itself to me that I prepare one of the big photos (the one with hand up to mouth) & send you to give to the Toynbee? Hall folk—Love to you & all

Walt Whitman