lity, as compared with the rest of the Anglo-Saxon race; it shows a finer grain and a nicer touch.
If this is not yet brought to bear on literature, it is only because the time has not come.
It is visible everywhere else.
The aim which Bonaparte avowed as his highest ambition for France, to convert all trades into arts, is being rapidly fulfilled all around us. There is a constant tendency to supersede brute muscle by the fibres of the brain, and thus to assimilate the rudest toil to what Bacon calls sedentary and within-door arts, that require rather the finger than the arm.
It is clear that this same impulse, in higher and higher applications, must culminate in the artistic creation of beauty.
And to fortify this fine instinct, we may trust, secondly, in the profound earnestness which still marks our people.
With all this flexibility, there is yet a solidity of principle beneath, that makes the subtile American mind as real and controlling as that of the robust race from whi
ll be just as classic a thing, if we do our part, as any which the past has treasured.
There is a mirage over all literary associations.
Keats and Lamb seem to our young people to be existences as remote and legendary as Homer, yet it is not an old man's life since Keats was an awkward boy at the door of Hazlitt's lecture-room, and Lamb was introducing Talfourd to Wordsworth as his own only admirer.
In reading Spence's Anecdotes, Pope and Addison appear no further off; and wherever I open Bacon's Essays, I am sure to end at last with that one magical sentence, annihilating centuries, When I was a child, and Queen Elizabeth was in the flower of her years.
And this imperceptible transformation of the commonplace present into the storied past applies equally to the pursuits of war and to the serenest works of peace.
Be not misled by the excitements of the moment
Written early in 1862. into overrating the charms of military life.
In this chaos of uniforms, we seem to be approa
dmit that the fundamental theory of English and Oriental law is the same on this point: Man and wife are one, and that one is the husband.
It is the oldest of legal traditions.
When Blackstone declares that the very being and existence of the woman is suspended during the marriage, and American Kent echoes that her legal existence and authority are in a manner lost ; when Petersdorff asserts that the husband has the right of imposing such corporeal restraints as he may deem necessary, and Bacon that the husband hath, by law, power and dominion over his wife, and may keep her by force within the bounds of duty, and may beat her, but not in a violent or cruel manner ; when Mr. Justice Coleridge rules that the husband, in certain cases, has a right to confine his wife in his own dwelling-house, and restrain her from liberty for an indefinite time, and Baron Alderson sums it all up tersely, The wife is only the servant of her husband, --these high authorities simply reaffirm the dogma