The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 15, No. 89, March, 1865: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 15, No. 89, March, 1865: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
If it be true, as tradition informs us, that the Toltecs were a
cultivated race, even more advanced than the Aztecs who occupied Mexico
at the time of the Conquest, we may reasonably suppose that a metal so
valuable to them as copper would be in great demand, and that mines of
it, even at a remote distance, would be worked by a people, the
construction of whose religious temples and royal palaces, and, it would
seem, their nationality even, depended upon its possession.
Other evidence might be adduced to show that the extensive mining-pits
on the shores of Lake Superior were not the work of the indolent and
untutored race of Indians who now inhabit that region, nor of their
ancestors, but of a people comparatively well acquainted with the
mechanic arts. Our article, however, has already extended beyond the
limits contemplated. I therefore leave the subject, with the hope that
the few hints here thrown out may awaken other and abler minds to its
investigation.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] See Col. Whittlesey's Report, Vol. XIII. _Smithsonian
Contributions._
TO A POET ON HIS BIRTHDAY,
FEBRUARY 27.
O singer, musical and strong,
Why should a faint and faltering line
Seek through the happy realms of song
To celebrate thy voice divine?
The tribute bears its own reply,
And speaks for many a voiceless one,
Of hearts disburdened of a sigh
Wherever thy brave accents run;
And blessing brings for youthful hours,
When maidens dreamed their early dreams,
And boys awakened, crowned with flowers,
Plucked walking by thy sunlit streams;
For all of Nature's pictured calm,
The children's hour, the fireside scene,
For our frail lives' undying psalm,
And wandering sweet Evangeline;
Praises for all; yet first for thee,
O lover with the kindling eye!
Quick to discern the minstrelsy
Where planets sway and star-fires die.
O prophet of a nobler world!
Thy song shall cheer the hill and plain,
Till sunset's glowing wings are furled
On faded joys and vanished pain.
NEEDLE AND GARDEN.
THE STORY OF A SEAMSTRESS WHO LAID DOWN HER NEEDLE AND BECAME A
STRAWBERRY-GIRL.
WRITTEN BY HERSELF.
CHAPTER III.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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