Default Metadata, or override by section

  To Walt Whitman. Gentleman. Sir.

You have had many tributes from the learned and great of Europe and America, yet you will not despise that of a simple, honest woman who writes to thank you, in all sincerity for those "Leaves of Grass" from which her soul has drawn such health, freshness and aroma. I visited Washington for the first time, this May. The guest of Mrs. Schwartz, (who one night in passing off the platform of a Car, gave you a rose) I was compelled to many Car rides in my transit to "the City". On Car No 14, I encountered you more than once. Your face, which I chose to think a facsimile of the grand old patriarch's, Abraham, attracted me. Through Mr. Devlin, from Mr. Doyle, I was allowed to read your—I prefer saying—I was permitted a long look into that wonderful mirror of your creation, where I saw the reflex of your   soul, and felt the influence of your divining power. Mr O'Conner's​ O'Connor's​ manly, eloquent, but most unnecessary vindication of your purity was also given me.

"Only themselves understand themselves and the like of themselves. As Souls only understand Souls."

I needed no one to translate for me the language of yours, written so plainly in every line and furrow of your face, and revealed to the world in the many gracious deeds of love to your kind.

I closed your book revelation, a wiser and more thoughtful woman, than when, from idle curiosity I first opened it, at the very stanza, "Perfections" which I have just quoted. Life held grander possibilities to me from that hour, and the mission of a soul, born into this world to love, influence, and suffer, was invested with profounder responsibilities.

To whoever is granted the power to make   another long for Truth, for its own beautiful sake; love the lowly and oppressed for the sake of the divinity spark which is in each human body, and see in Nature the heart of the great Mother–God who conceived and gave it birth.—To such an one there is a debt due of allegiance and profound gratitude.

I thank you Sir, with all my heart, and pray for you the abiding Presence and hourly Comfort of the divine Pure in Heart whom you worship.

I need make no apology for this note. You will not misunderstand it. I go to my home in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, tomorrow. I may never again chance to see you, but you will believe, nevertheless that I will wish for you—and teach others to do the same—a long earth–life of usefulness, and an eternity of appreciation and reward.

Reverently yours. Mrs. Nellie Eyster.     from a lady—a stranger | Washington—1870 | a letter to comfort a fellow & brace him up Nellie Eyster 1888 see notes Apr 14 1888