Wednesday, February 25, 1891
Referred again to [Robert Ingersoll's] lecture. "These Eakins critics ought to go to the lecture. I think that one of the strong points of the Colonel—truth—he sees clearly the dividing line, which is 'Leaves of Grass': the old school stood for what it called beauty—aesthetics, elegance—we stand for truth: the schools stood for it—not men necessarily—not the big fellows, anyhow. Truth, truth, truth—as the basis of the poetic—oh yes! the Colonel has it—it is all there!"
Tuesday, June 1, 1891
"You remember what I told you the other night—remember it quite clearly? The purpose of 'Leaves of Grass'?" And to my assent he added, "It was this: nature, nature, again nature. Not art, erudition, decoration, elegance, but simple, elemental first-causeism—to get at things direct—accept the final truths. Without this a reader can never grasp 'Leaves of Grass.' I was going to say, damn art, but again I say, I must not do that. For no one knows more than I do the place it has occupied, the good it has done—no one. But accepting all that, I pass beyond."
Saturday, July 4, 1891
Speaking of portraits in general, "They must be natural, of course, but then the question will come—what is the natural? It may be as with the girl who went to Paris to learn to sing—who said, oh! my voice is all nature, pure, true—and whose teacher told her at the very start—do you know, my girl, that not one of your tones is natural, equal to the measure I will set for it? Often our nature may be as far below nature as that—and yet we will continue to demand it—demand, demand! Here is 'Leaves of Grass': its purpose—whatever it has done—falls nothing short of that."
Saturday, August 8, 1891
Would practical things make poems? "They are poems—that is one of my purposes: to show the universal beat of the poetic. There was the locomotive: how often I heard of its artificiality—that nothing but dust and iron could be made of it. I accepted the sneers as a challenge—then the 'Locomotive in Winter.' How clearly I remember my anxiety—to get terms straight, to express the technicality of the trade, then to infuse all with life. It was a challenge—yes, a challenge—perhaps I was reckless to take it up. But something came of it—whether the thing I was after or something less I do not know." I had been speaking of the beauty of the bed of a railroad to Reeder days before, he protesting its artificiality, therefore not beauty—I contrary. W. now: "You were clearly right, at least"—with a smile—"right as our gospel puts it—as 'Leaves of Grass,' science, evolution, holds it."