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Dear Rudolf Schmidt,

The Danish edition Demokratiske Fremblik, of my Democratic Vistas, has reached me to–day, (one copy, complete, paper–bound, and two instalments of loose sheets)—makes a handsome little book, very neatly & appropriately printed & bound—It is a great, deep, joy to me to be thus in communion with thoughtful & democratic men & women in the Scandinavian countries—I think much, much of it—& of you as the medium of it.

I suppose you rec'd my letter from here of Jan. 25—about my illness, paralysis—(& the papers I sent giving some details of it.) I am still unwell—Cannot work any—To–day I send you Harper's Magazine for February, with a piece I have written to idealize our great Pacific half of America, (the future better half)—also a N. Y. Tribune, with a poem, (my latest,) Prayer of Columbus. So you will see I cannot desist from writing, sick or well.

Clemens Petersen I see his pieces occasionally in the magazines—I have sent you one or two, formerly—I only met him that time, over two years ago, I mentioned—have not seen any thing of his lately in print. You speak of a jaunt or tour in Germany—O how I should like to be with you & go around with you, in some of those quaint old cities & spots—the motherhood, (or rather grandmotherhood) of so much in this New World. Don't fail, my dear friend, to write me at least as soon as you return. Mention whether you have rec'd the paper, (N. Y. Graphic) with acc't of my illness—also February Harper's, and the Tribune, by this mail—I like to hear specifically whether the papers and letters I send, reach you all right—address me here, Camden, N. Jersey, until further notice. (On papers, printed matter, &c. don't write any thing on wrappers, but only address, as our post office law strictly prohibits it.)

As I am laid up here, very lonesome, your letters will be doubly welcome. I am saving up for you some pieces on American humor, which I will send, when ready. About Demokratiske Fremblik I shall next time have something further to say. I enclose in Harper's, two copies, proof of my portrait—wood engraving, rough but good, lately made—looks quite like me—(for all my sickness, which is pretty serious, I keep much the same in flesh & face.) It is mild & pleasant here to–day as I write, middle of the day—I am sitting here with open doors, the bright sun shining—Don't fail to write me—try to take some time of an hour's leisure—I like to hear about your people there—about the lady you spoke of who was interested in Democratic Vistas—& the Professor you once wrote of also—about Bjornsen also.

Walt Whitman