t it was, but how harmlessly and how happily!
What pure delight, what freedom from perturbation and care, when a dictionary and a dozen books furnished luxury for a lifetime!
What were wealth and fame, peerages and palaces, to him who had all Aeschylus for a winter residence, and Homer for the seaside!
And a culture which seems remotest from practical ends may not only thus furnish exhaustless intellectual enjoyment, but may educate one's aesthetic perceptions to the very highest point.
Bsmall comrades disapproved his political sentiments.
For higher intellectual pursuits there are not only no such penalties among us, but there are no such opportunities.
Yet in Athens — with its twenty thousand statues, with the tragedies of Aeschylus performed for civic prizes, and the histories of Herodotus read at the public games — a boy could no more grow up ignorant of art than he could here remain untrained in politics.
When we are once convinced that this higher training is desira
iginality in mere externals; we think, because we live in a new country, we are unworthy of ourselves if we do not Americanize the grammar and spelling-book.
In a republic, must the objective case be governed by a verb?
We shall yet learn that it is not new literary forms we need, but only fresh inspiration, combined with cultivated taste.
The standard of good art is always much the same; modifications are trifling.
Otherwise we could not enjoy any foreign literature.
A fine phrase in Aeschylus or Dante affects us as if we had read it in Emerson.
A structural completeness in a work of art seems the same in the Oedipus Tyrannus as in The scarlet letter.
Art has therefore its law; and eccentricity, though often promising as a mere trait of youth, is only a disfigurement to maturer years.
It is no discredit to Walt Whitman that he wrote Leaves of grass, only that he did not burn it afterwards and reserve himself for something better.
A young writer must commonly plough in his fi