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  Dear Walt:

I got your postal of yesterday this morning and was greatly gratified to hear from you. I have wanted badly to write to you for three weeks past, but have really felt too sad and anxious to do so, besides being quite crushed with the dead heat we have been having, and sick with obstinate bowel trouble and my enfeebling lameness. I have felt that you and I were brothers in misfortune—I hope in all other and better ways too.

Words cannot tell how badly I feel at your confinement to bed and to the house for so long, and I enter into the irksomeness of it, combined as it is with strengthlessness and general illness. But I hope   the spirit will still surge strong in you to resist and endure—it is about all there is for us in life after a certain age is reached. My belief in your getting better is invincible, for your stamina is indomitable. If you can only get through this hot weather! It is our common enemy, and the worst. Everyone appears to be affected by it badly; even the well, and how much more the ailing!

I had two previous cards from you, one of June 17, and one of June 23. The proofs were read with much pleasure, and despatched to Dr. Bucke, as you wished. I was sorry you left in the one about the Red Emperor, but find some consolation in the sweet assurance that he is finally damned, and   can trouble the earth no more! Many of the pieces are very beautiful, especially the one about the nirwana sunset. I think the title very fine.

When you sent the proofs, you wrote that you had been better all day—relieved from the prostration, and added that there had been a thunder-storm. See what atmosphere does for one! I think another storm is brewing today, and hope so, for I know it will give you relief.

I heard from our all-good Bucke the last of June, and owe him a letter.

I heard recently from Donnelly at London. His book is much abused by the English press, as by ours, but in private circles, among   lettered and cultivated people, it gains great headway. Dr. Bucke is not convinced (no wonder since a part of the secret was withheld.) But I have no doubt that Donnelly has the truth and will make his way after a little, especially as the mathematicians back him.

I don't hear of Kennedy, but hope his book has prospects.

Charles Eldridge appears to have won a big law-suit. I daily expect to hear from him, and to hear that he has got his fee—a large one.

No news here. An even tenor. Nelly is pretty well, though under the weather, and sends her love and hopes. Cheer up, Walt, and take all the ease you can! I trust you can get out soon, if only for a drive.

Always with strong affection. WD O'Connor Walt Whitman.   See notes 1888 Aug 21