Mr. Ernest Rhys has just receiv'd an interesting letter from Walt Whitman, dated "Camden, January 22, 1890." The following is an extract from it:

   I am still here -- no very mark'd or significant change or happening -- fairly buoyant spirits, &c. -- but surely, slowly ebbing. At this moment sitting here, in my den, Mickle Street, by the oakwood fire, in the same big strong old chair with wolf-skin spread over back -- bright sun, cold, dry winter day. America continues -- is generally busy enough all over her vast demesnes (intestinal agitation I call it,) talking, plodding, making money, every one trying to get on -- perhaps to get towards the top -- but no special individual signalism -- (just as well, I guess.)