l mysticism of Jefferies; the Puritan austerity of Thoreau. In
short, there are aspects in the writings of the other "Vagabonds" in this
volume which command attention quite apart from the characteristics
specifically belonging to the literary Vagabond.

But it is not possible to view Whitman apart from his Vagabondage. He is
proud of it, glories in it, and flings it in your face. Others, whatever
strain of wildness they may have had, whatever sympathies they may have
felt for the rough sweetness of the earth, however unconventional their
habits, accepted at any rate the recognized conventions of literature.
As men, as thinkers, they were unconventional; as artists conventional.
They retained at any rate the literary garments of civilized society.

Not so Whitman. He is the Orson of literature. Unconventionality he
carries out to its logical conclusion, and strides stark naked among our
academies of learning. A strange, uncouth, surprising figure, it is
impossible to ignore him however much he may shock our susceptibilities.

Many years ago Mr. Swinburne greeted him as "a strong-winged soul with
prophetic wings"; subsequently he referred to him as a "drunken
apple-woman reeling in a gutter." For this right-about-face he has been
upbraided by Whitman's admirers. Certainly it is unusual to find any
reader starting out to bless and ending with a curse. Usually it is the
precedent of Balaam that is followed. But Mr. Swinburne's mingled
feelings typify the attitude of every one who approaches the poet, though
few of us can express ourselves so resourcefully as the author of _Poems
and Ballads_.

There may be some students who accept Whitman without demur at the outset
on his own terms. All I can say is that I never heard of one. However
broad-minded you may consider yourself, however catholic in your
sympathies, Whitman is bound to get athwart some pet prejudice, to
discover some shred of conventionality. Gaily, heedlessly, you start out
to explore his writings, just as you might start on a walking tour. He
is in touch with the primal forces of Nature, you hear. "So much the
better," say you; "civilization has ceased to charm." "You are enamoured
of wildness." Thus men talk before camping out, captivated by the
picturesque and healthy possibilities, and oblivious to the
inconveniences of roughing it.

But just as some amount of training is wanted before a walking tour, or a
period of camping out, so is i