o
be a German martyr. I presume things have changed in Germany since those
times, and that the Goethe of to-day does not encounter the jealousy and
hatred the great poet and critic of Weimar seemed to have called forth. In
Walt Whitman we in America have known an American author who was an
American martyr in a more literal sense than any of the men named by the
great German. More than Heine, or Rousseau, or Moliere, or Byron, was
Whitman a victim of the literary Philistinism of his country and times;
but, fortunately for himself, his was a nature so large, tolerant, and
self-sufficing that his martyrdom sat very lightly upon him. His
unpopularity was rather a tonic to him than otherwise. It was of a kind
that tries a man's mettle, and brings out his heroic traits if he has any.
One almost envies him his unpopularity. It was of the kind that only the
greatest ones have experienced, and that attests something extraordinary
in the recipient of it. He said he was more resolute because all had
denied him than he ever could have been had all accepted, and he added:--

"I heed not and have never heeded either cautions, majorities, nor
ridicule."

There are no more precious and tonic pages in history than the records of
men who have faced unpopularity, odium, hatred, ridicule, detraction, in
obedience to an inward voice, and never lost courage or good-nature.
Whitman's is the most striking case in our literary annals,--probably the
most striking one in our century outside of politics and religion. The
inward voice alone was the oracle he obeyed: "My commission obeying, to
question it never daring."

The bitter-sweet cup of unpopularity he drained to its dregs, and drained
it cheerfully, as one knowing beforehand that it is preparing for him and
cannot be avoided.

"Have you learn'd lessons only of those who admired you and were tender
with you? and stood aside for you?
Have you not learn'd great lessons from those who reject you, and brace
themselves against you? or who treat you with contempt, or dispute
the passage with you?"

Every man is a partaker in the triumph of him who is always true to
himself and makes no compromises with customs, schools, or opinions.
Whitman's life, underneath its easy tolerance and cheerful good-will, was
heroic. He fought his battle against great odds and he conquered; he had
his own way, he yielded not a hair to the enemy.

The pressure brought to