In This Issue
Explore the December 1877 print edition below. Or to discover more writing from the pages of The Atlantic, browse the full archive.
"Some magician's touch is needed to evoke the melody and beauty now surely latent alike in the water-driven saw-mill and the big Corliss engine. Will he be the man?"
Part III. "We walked several miles that afternoon in the bewildering glare of the sun, the white roads, and the white buildings."
A poem for Alfred Tennyson