The egotism of Whitman was like the force of gravity, like the poise of the earth, the centrality of the orbs. Nothing could disturb it, no burden was too great for it to bear. He seemed always to have in mind the self-control and the _insouciance_ of Nature. He would fain try himself by the self-balanced orbs. His imagination was fired by the undemonstrative earth; he would be as regardless of observation as it was. He was moved by the unsophisticated freshness of Nature. He saw that the elemental laws never apologized; he would emulate the level he planted his house by: “these shows of the day and night, I will know if I am to be less than they are.” He will not be outfaced by irrational things: “I will see if I have no meanings, while the houses and ships have meanings, I will see if the fishes and birds are to be enough for themselves, and I not to be enough for myself. I match my spirit against yours, you orbs, growths, mountains, brutes. Copious as you are, I absorb you all in myself, and become the master myself.” It is these cosmic and natural-universal standards to which Whitman appeals, that mark him off from all other poets or bards who have yet appeared, and which, I hope, justify me in singling him out and giving him a place in this volume. THE END The Riverside Press CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS U . S . A TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within the text and consultation of external sources. Some hyphens in words have been silently removed, some added, when a predominant preference was found in the original book. Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained. Pg 182: ‘Java man of Du Bois’ replaced by ‘Java man of Dubois’.