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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 08, No. 48, October, 1861   By:

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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 08, No. 48, October, 1861 is a collection of essays, poems, and stories that offer readers a fascinating glimpse into the culture and politics of the time. The diverse range of topics covered in this issue provides a well-rounded look at the issues that were important to people in 1861. From discussions on the Civil War to musings on art and literature, there is something for everyone in this magazine.

One standout piece in this issue is a poem titled "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" by Julia Ward Howe. This stirring poem captures the spirit of patriotism and sacrifice that defined the Civil War era, and it has since become an iconic piece of American literature. Additionally, the essay "Art and Politics" by John Lothrop Motley provides a thought-provoking analysis of the intersection between art and politics, offering readers a new perspective on these two interconnected spheres.

Overall, The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 08, No. 48, October, 1861 is a thought-provoking and engaging read that will appeal to history buffs and literature enthusiasts alike. Its blend of fiction, poetry, and non-fiction provides a well-rounded reading experience that is sure to captivate readers.

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On a fine morning in September, we set out on an excursion to Blenheim, the sculptor and myself being seated on the box of our four horse carriage, two more of the party in the dicky, and the others less agreeably accommodated inside. We had no coachman, but two postilions in short scarlet jackets and leather breeches with top boots, each astride of a horse; so that, all the way along, when not otherwise attracted, we had the interesting spectacle of their up and down bobbing in the saddle. It was a sunny and beautiful day, a specimen of the perfect English weather, just warm enough for comfort, indeed, a little too warm, perhaps, in the noontide sun, yet retaining a mere spice or suspicion of austerity, which made it all the more enjoyable.

The country between Oxford and Blenheim is not particularly interesting, being almost level, or undulating very slightly; nor is Oxfordshire, agriculturally, a rich part of England. We saw one or two hamlets, and I especially remember a picturesque old gabled house at a turnpike gate, and, altogether, the wayside scenery had an aspect of old fashioned English life; but there was nothing very memorable till we reached Woodstock, and stopped to water our horses at the Black Bear... Continue reading book >>

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