The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 74, December, 1863: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics

In Short

This volume serves as a mirror to the American mind during a pivotal moment of the nineteenth century. It gathers fiction, poetry, historical analysis, and scientific reportage to offer a comprehensive view of the national spirit at the height of the Civil War. By juxtaposing the harsh realities of military conflict with the graceful art of storytelling and the slow, deep truths of natural history, the magazine preserves a sense of cultural continuity. It has lasted because it captures the period's profound tension between immediate political strife and a desire for enduring beauty.

The Story

The narrative arc of this volume begins with the somber, haunting tale of Philip Nolan, a man who, in a fit of youthful rebellion, curses his native country and is subsequently sentenced to a life of perpetual exile at sea. Forbidden from hearing the name of his homeland or seeing it again, Nolan drifts through five decades of naval service, becoming a ghost among his peers—a "man without a country" whose tragedy illuminates the gravity of patriotism. His eventual death, reported in an obscure corner of a newspaper, marks the quiet end of a life defined by the absence of a hearth.

From this stark exploration of national belonging, the magazine transitions into the delicate, often melancholic lives of the struggling artistic class in France. Through the account of the writer Henry Murger, the reader encounters the precariousness of a life dedicated to the pen, where the lack of material security constantly threatens to extinguish genius. It is a story of "the writers militant," whose dedication to their craft is matched only by their poverty, revealing the fragility of the human spirit when faced with the indifference of both government and fortune.

The focus then shifts to the American countryside, where the rhythm of life is measured by the turn of the seasons and the toil of the farmer. Here, the narrative examines the quiet struggles of individuals like the old machinist, a man who has poured his life’s labor into an engine only to face the harsh judgment of a world that values industry over invention. Yet, even in this sphere of hard labor, there is space for sentiment and the warmth of domestic life, as seen in the pride of a father watching his young son grow.

The volume culminates in a broader philosophical survey of the human condition. It moves from the immediate, often contradictory nature of daily human conversation—where men bend their principles to suit the moment—to the eternal symbols of human connection, such as the stone bridge. Through scientific observation of glaciers and reflections on the legends of kings and abbesses, the magazine finally confronts the necessity of the ongoing war. It concludes by framing the conflict not as a mere political disagreement, but as an essential struggle for justice and a "just and abiding peace," grounding the nation’s survival in the same moral imperative that drives the poet, the scientist, and the soldier alike.

How It Unfolds

The exile’s burden The volume opens with the report of Philip Nolan’s lonely death at sea, prompting a retrospective look at his fifty-year sentence of living on ships without ever touching American soil. This story frames the entire issue around the themes of identity, loyalty, and the devastating weight of a life severed from one's origins.

The artist’s struggle The focus shifts to the literary circles of France, tracing the life of Henry Murger and his cohort as they battle poverty and the crushing lack of state support. This segment moves from the cold reality of the writer’s garret to the broader European context of historical change.

The rhythm of the farm The narrative moves to the American landscape, exploring the lives of farmers and inventors who find themselves at the mercy of societal indifference. These stories emphasize the tension between individual genius or quiet domesticity and the unforgiving machinery of progress and economy.

The philosophical inquiry The final acts turn to intellectual and natural history, examining how human communication wavers with convenience and how glaciers record the slow, tectonic forces of the Earth. These beats bridge the gap between human inconsistency and the permanence of the natural world.

The call to duty The concluding essays ground the preceding reflections in the brutal, urgent reality of the Civil War. By arguing that peace is not merely a cessation of noise but an active, moral conquest, the magazine brings the reader back to the central crisis of the age.

The People

Philip Nolan serves as the volume’s most poignant figure, a cautionary example of what happens when a citizen rejects his fundamental bond to his nation. His life, spent in the service of a country he is forbidden to name, represents the ultimate form of self-imposed tragedy. In contrast, Henry Murger stands for the "writers militant," the struggling intellectuals whose creative persistence is constantly thwarted by the lack of material support. His life is defined by the tension between his immense potential and the daily reality of hunger and debt.

The old machinist is a figure of quiet, mechanical obsession, representing the individual who builds his very soul into his work. His stoicism, even in the face of failure and the loss of his family, highlights the hidden dignity of the common man. Standing alongside him is the young boy, Richard, whose "hero-face" embodies the promise of the next generation and the hopes of those, like the Doctor, who look toward the future. Finally, the various historical figures mentioned—from the kings of Norway to the politicians of the French and American pasts—serve as cautionary or inspirational touchstones, reminding the reader that current struggles are but one chapter in a much larger, ongoing human drama.

In Its Own Voice

"Died, May 11th, THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY."

The author notes that this simple, tragic announcement in the newspaper could have summarized the entire, hidden life of Philip Nolan.

"And when you think of this, remember, too, 'Tis always morning somewhere, and above The awakening continents, from shore to shore, Somewhere the birds are singing evermore."

These lines, taken from a poem about the birds of Killingworth, serve as a hopeful, lyrical counterpoint to the surrounding political gravity of the issue.

"The true motto for the Government is precisely and preeminently the motto of the State of Massachusetts, 'Ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem,' which, freely, but faithfully, translated, means, 'We must conquer a just and abiding peace.'"

This quote captures the firm, resolute stance of the magazine regarding the necessity of continuing the war to secure a lasting future for the nation.

What It's Really About

The volume is essentially an argument for the necessity of rootedness in a world defined by change. It asks what constitutes a human life when it is stripped of its primary connections—be it a country, a home, or a means of survival. It contrasts the fleeting, often dishonest nature of human conversation and political shifting with the "eternal" truths found in history, nature, and the moral duty to one's society. The overarching question is how to maintain one's character and purpose when the world demands sacrifice—whether that sacrifice is the exile of a life at sea, the poverty of the artist, or the bloodshed of a righteous war.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the mid-nineteenth-century style—characterized by long, eloquent sentences, a penchant for classical references, and a deeply earnest moral tone—will find this volume a rewarding experience. It provides a visceral sense of the anxiety and resolve felt by Americans in 1863, offering a window into the cultural life that continued even as the nation was torn apart.

There are challenges for the modern reader: the prose is dense, often ornate, and reflects the period’s specific, sometimes exclusionary, attitudes toward history and social roles. The excerpts display a firm, uncompromising perspective on the Civil War that may feel startling in its directness. However, the emotional core of the writing remains resonant. The stories of men like Nolan or the machinist, and the beautiful, rhythmic poetry, possess a timeless quality that transcends the specific political crises of the day. To read this book is to witness a society attempting to find order in chaos, using literature and inquiry to construct a sense of meaning. It stays with you not because of its answers, but because of the way it highlights the profound, quiet struggles that define the human condition in any era.