that the typewriter now fuses the functions of the pen and sword. But the effect of the typewriter is not all of this kind. If the typewriter has contributed greatly to the familiar forms of the homogenized specialism and fragmentation that is print culture, it has also caused an integration of functions and the creation of much private independence. G. K. Chesterton demurred about this new independence as a delusion, remarking that "women refused to be dictated to and went out and became stenographers." The poet or novelist now composes on the typewriter. The typewriter fuses composition and publication, causing an entirely new attitude to the written and printed word. Composing on the typewriter has altered the forms of the language and of literature in ways best seen in the later novels of Henry James that were dictated to Miss Theodora Bosanquet, who took them down, not by shorthand, but on a typewriter. Her memoir, Henry James at Work, should have been followed by other studies of how the typewriter has altered English verse and prose, and, indeed, the very mental habits, themselves, of writers. With Henry James, the typewriter had become a confirmed habit by 1907, and his new style developed a sort of free, incan-tatory quality. His secretary tells of how he found dictating not only easier but more inspiring than composing by hand: "It all seems to be so much more effectively and unceasingly pulled out of me in speech than in writing," he told her. Indeed, he became so attached to the sound of his typewriter that, on his deathbed, Henry James called for his Remington to be worked near his bedside. Just how much the typewriter has contributed by its unjustified right-hand margin to the development of vers libre would be hard to discover, but free verse was really a recovery of spoken, dramatic stress in poetry, and the typewriter encouraged exactly this quality. Seated at the typewriter, the poet, much in the