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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 39, January, 1861   By:

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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 39, January, 1861 is a gripping collection of essays, stories, and poems that provide a fascinating glimpse into the intellectual and literary landscape of the mid-19th century. The diverse range of topics covered in this volume, from insightful political commentary to moving personal narratives, makes for a rich and engaging read.

One standout piece in this volume is the essay "The Narragansett Planters" which offers a vivid portrayal of life in Rhode Island during the colonial period. The author's meticulous research and evocative writing style bring this forgotten chapter of American history to life, shedding light on the complexities of race, class, and power in early America.

Another highlight is the short story "The Betrothed" which follows the emotional journey of a young couple torn apart by war and societal expectations. The author's keen attention to detail and nuanced characterizations make this tale of love and sacrifice both poignant and relatable, resonating with readers across generations.

Overall, The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 39, January, 1861 is a must-read for anyone interested in 19th-century literature and history. Its timeless themes and masterful storytelling make it a valuable addition to any library or bookshelf.

First Page:

THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY.

A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.

VOL. VII. JANUARY, 1861. NO. XXXIX.

WASHINGTON CITY.

Washington is the paradise of paradoxes, a city of magnificent distances, but of still more magnificent discrepancies. Anything may be affirmed of it, everything denied. What it seems to be it is not; and although it is getting to be what it never was, it must always remain what it now is. It might be called a city, if it were not alternately populous and uninhabited; and it would be a wide spread village, if it were not a collection of hospitals for decayed or callow politicians. It is the hybernating place of fashion, of intelligence, of vice, a resort without the attractions of waters either mineral or salt, where there is no bathing and no springs, but drinking in abundance and gambling in any quantity. Defenceless, as regards walls, redoubts, moats, or other fortifications, it is nevertheless the Sevastopol of the Republic, against which the allied army of Contractors and Claim Agents incessantly lay siege. It is a great, little, splendid, mean, extravagant, poverty stricken barrack for soldiers of fortune and votaries of folly.

Scattered helter skelter over an immense surface, cut up into scalene triangles, the oddity of its plan makes Washington a succession of surprises which never fail to vex and astonish the stranger, be he ever so highly endowed as to the phrenological bump of locality... Continue reading book >>


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