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My dear Linton,

I have just been spending an hour looking over "The Future"—and the "Ireland" you sent me—& stopping at certain pieces here & there, & reading them quite carefully, & dwelling upon them. They touch me deeply—indeed more than anything of the kind had previously done—the undertone of anguish and despair—the Laocoön struggles, (apparently useless) under the tightening grip[p]ing folds of the serpent—the cries & complaints & remonstrances & calls for help—somehow, in your verses, brought the fearful condition of the laboring millions not only of Ireland, Italy, Poland &c—but all Europe—more vividly than ever yet, before me.

And it is well for me to get such reminding's—

But my own vein is full of hope, promise, faith, certainty—I see how an American—I for instance—cannot perhaps realize the peoples​ peoples'​ desperate condition over the major part of the world—

—This point you have to-day brought up sharply before me.

Walt Whitman

I return to Washington Saturday.