The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 120, October, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics

In Short

This volume of The Atlantic Monthly serves as a curated time capsule from October 1867. It blends serialized fiction—such as segments of The Guardian Angel and The Autobiography of a Quack—with travelogues of the Pyrenees, essays on the necessity of international copyright, and biographical sketches of historical figures like Ben Jonson. By documenting everything from the mechanics of Burmese diplomacy to the social grievances of New Englanders, the magazine functions as both a sophisticated parlor conversation and a serious record of the cultural and political climate of post-Civil War America.

The Story

The magazine organizes its contents into a diverse assembly of voices that mirror the complexities of the mid-nineteenth century. The fiction pieces establish a tone of mystery and moral scrutiny. In The Guardian Angel, we follow the schemes of Mr. William Murray Bradshaw, a man whose machinations in Oxbow Village are shadowed by the perceptive Master Byles Gridley. Gridley, an academic detective of sorts, attempts to navigate the social webs and personal deceits that define life in a small town. Simultaneously, The Autobiography of a Quack introduces a narrator who, confined to a hospital bed with a grim diagnosis, recounts his life as a medical charlatan. His tale is one of cynical survival, where he exploits the credulity of others through amateurish stethoscopes and homoeopathic schemes.

Interspersed with these narratives are biographical and travel-focused journeys. We are taken back to the life of Ben Jonson, portrayed as a brawny, argumentative poet who transitioned from bricklaying to the highest literary circles of the English Renaissance. The prose highlights his abrasive personality, his professional rivalries, and his penchant for "Tartars and Turks" fighting in his imagination. Parallel to this, a travel account pulls the reader into the rugged, stone-strewn landscapes of the Pyrenees. Here, the landscape dictates the journey; the author reflects on the "division walls" of history and encounters the monastery of Montserrat, linking the physical terrain to the spiritual and poetic echoes found in Goethe’s Faust.

The magazine also addresses the "politics" promised on its cover through a vigorous argument for international copyright. The editors contend that the current system of "ill-regulated plunder" unfairly impoverishes authors and stunts the growth of literature in both Great Britain and the United States. They argue that protecting intellectual property is not merely a legal detail but a moral imperative, necessary for the cultivation of masterpieces. Finally, the volume offers glimpses into the wider world, such as a formal encounter with a Burmese monarch, where the rigid, repetitive formality of royal protocol is contrasted with the simple, domestic habit of eating pickled tea. The issue concludes with critical reviews, including a dismissal of The Sayings of Doctor Bushwhacker, which the reviewer finds wanting in literary depth despite capturing the humorous, insufferable nature of the British tourist abroad.

How It Unfolds

The social web tightens Mr. Bradshaw travels to Oxbow Village to pursue a mysterious agenda involving a land-case and his interest in Myrtle, while Master Gridley begins his quiet surveillance. Gridley’s attempt to confront Miss Badlam about her secrets reveals the friction between his inquisitorial duty and the inherent awkwardness of social politeness.

The artist’s struggle The magazine turns to history, tracing Ben Jonson’s life from his humble origins as a bricklayer to his emergence as a combative, learned poet. The narrative highlights the tension between Jonson’s intellectual arrogance and the precarious financial reality of his existence as an author.

The ethics of the page A lengthy argument emerges regarding international copyright, framing the absence of legal protections as a blight on national literature. The editors contrast the "warm and lasting friendship" between authors and their domestic publishers against the chaos of the international book trade.

The clinical confession In a hospital ward, a self-described "clever scamp" begins documenting his history of medical deception. He details his transition into a fake physician, exposing the ease with which he manipulated patients by mimicking professional authority.

The remote encounter The reader is transported to the court of a Burmese king, witnessing the intricate, scripted bureaucracy of diplomacy. The scene shifts to the Pyrenees, where the author moves from the bustling, vine-covered plains to the silent, desolate heights of mountain monasteries.

The People

Master Byles Gridley is the moral anchor of the fiction, a man of "detective’s sagacity" who uses his retirement to protect the vulnerable from the machinations of the calculating Mr. William Murray Bradshaw. Bradshaw is the quintessential opportunist, a "Macchiavelli" figure driven by land deals and social manipulation. In contrast, the narrator of The Autobiography of a Quack is a master of self-delusion and deception, a "stirring, active person" who views his life of medical fraud with a detached, sardonic wit even as his health fails.

These characters are grounded by historical and real-world figures. Ben Jonson stands as a "brawny egotist," a man of immense learning and even greater pugnacity who defines himself against his rivals. Miss Cynthia Badlam provides a portrait of the "desolate spinster," whose life in Oxbow Village is momentarily interrupted by the intrusion of Gridley’s business. Finally, the "British tourist" in the book reviews serves as a caricature of entitlement, defined by his insistence that his guide-book is the definitive arbiter of truth, contrasting sharply with the intellectual aspirations of the magazine’s own writers.

In Its Own Voice

"If any underhand contrivance was at work, involving the welfare of any one in whom he was interested, he was a dangerous person for the plotters, for he had plenty of time to attend to them, and would be apt to take a kind of pleasure in matching his wits against another crafty person's."

Master Gridley prepares to confront those who would manipulate the social order of Oxbow Village.

"When we reflect that in the aristocratic age of good Queen Bess, play-writing... was, if we may trust Dr. Farmer, hardly considered 'a creditable employ,' we may form some judgment of the position of the working classes, when a mechanic was thus deemed to have no rights which a playwright 'was bound to respect.'"

The author contextualizes the social standing of the legendary playwright Ben Jonson during his early years.

"The man on my right has consumption, smells of cod-liver oil, and coughs all night; the man on my left is a Down-Easter, with a liver which has struck work; looks like a human pumpkin."

The narrator of the quack’s autobiography describes the grim, mundane reality of his hospital ward.

What It's Really About

At its core, this volume grapples with the tension between individual integrity and the systems that threaten to erode it. Whether it is the integrity of an author’s work in the face of copyright theft, the honesty of a physician against the backdrop of medical charlatanism, or the sanctity of truth versus the malicious "tale-bearing" of society, the magazine is preoccupied with the moral health of a nation in transition. It asks whether the "cultivated intelligence" of society can be sustained when the mechanisms of culture—law, medicine, and literature—are either neglected or actively exploited for base personal gain. It seeks a balance between the "stout-hearted" pursuit of knowledge and the protection of the individual against those who would trade on false witness.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the slow, deliberate pace of nineteenth-century prose will find this volume a rewarding, if challenging, experience. It is not a book for those seeking a singular, fast-moving plot; rather, it is a collection of curiosities that reward the patient reader. The writing carries the refined, often didactic tone of the era, which can feel dense or even fussy to modern sensibilities. However, the vividness of the descriptions—from the "misty depths" of Montserrat to the "minute white shot" of homoeopathic medicine—is striking.

You will find the sections on international copyright surprisingly relevant, as they echo contemporary concerns about the value of creative labor in a digital, often exploitative economy. The dialect in the dialogue, while occasionally difficult to parse, provides a raw, authentic texture to the lives of New Englanders and traveling tourists. What stays with you is the sense of a world that is simultaneously expanding through global travel and retracting into the insular, often cruel, judgments of small-town life. It is an honest, unvarnished portrait of an age that was deeply concerned with how to define "honor" in a marketplace that often punished the honorable.