When he recovered, a clerkship was given him in the Department of the Interior; he was presently removed on the charge (it is said) of having written an indecent book.[70] A place was immediately found for him in the Attorney General’s office, and this place he held until he was stricken by partial paralysis early in 1873. From 1873 until his death Whitman lived in Camden, New Jersey, at first making his home with his soldier brother, George, later setting up an establishment of his own at 328 Mickle Street. He never married, having an ‘overmastering passion for entire freedom, unconstraint; I had an instinct against forming ties that would bind me.’ The following list of Whitman’s writings conveys no idea of the interest attaching to them as bibliographical curiosities, but will perhaps answer the needs of the student. _Leaves of Grass_, 1855 (second edition, 1856; third, 1860–61; fourth, 1867; fifth, 1871); _Walt Whitman’s Drum-Taps_ and its _Sequel_, 1865–66; _Democratic Vistas_, 1871; _After All not to Create Only_, 1871; _Passage to India_, 1871; _As a Strong Bird on Pinions Free_, 1872; _Memoranda during the War_, 1875–76; _Two Rivulets_ (prose and verse), 1876; _Specimen Days and Collect_, 1882–83; _November Boughs_ (prose and verse), 1888; _Good-Bye My Fancy_, 1891; _Calamus: A Series of Letters ... to a young friend (Peter Doyle)_, 1897; _The Wound Dresser_, 1898. The storm of opposition which greeted Whitman’s earlier work gradually subsided, and he became a notable figure among contemporary men of letters. He was invited to read original poems on public occasions, such as the opening of the American Institute (1871), the Commencement at Dartmouth College (1872), and the Commencement at Tufts College (1874). In later years he enjoyed literary canonization in a small way. Many pilgrims visited the bard in his unpoetical house in Camden. Worshippers came from England to pay him homage and incidentally to rail at Americans for neglecting one of their few geniuses, stolidly ignoring the fact that they themselves had neglected not a few of their many geniuses. And before Walt Whitman died (March 26, 1892) he had tasted some of the delights of fame. II THE GROWTH OF A REPUTATION Being prejudiced in favor of metre and rhyme, probably from long experience of verse written in the conservative way, an old-fashioned world did not welcome _Leaves of Grass_ with enthusiasm. A few discerning spirits saw in Whitman the promise of mighty things. Emerson greeted him ‘at the beginning of a great career;’ but when the poet had these words from a private letter stamped in gilt capitals on the cover of his next volume, Emerson (it is thought) was a little dismayed.