JOURNALIST, Letter to a Young.. .P. R. Burchard.. John Hay. 86, 205, 290 97 616 650 24 583 .Mrs. Ed. Ashley Walker.. LANGUAGES, Should the Study of the Modern Precede that of the Ancient ?. G. F. Comfort. LAW OF THE HEART AND LAW OF THE STREET.. LOITERING ABOUT A FRENCH CHATEAU... LOWELL'S PROSE, MR... MANUFACTURES, Labor and Capital in. MAURICE, Frederick Denison... MESSAGE, A. Poem.. MISTRAL, FREDERIC, The Provençal Poet. MIGNONETTE. Poem. (Illustrated).. Poem.... MY LIFE. Poem... MY SCHOOL IN FERN CITY.. NAUTILUS ISLAND, The Waif of. No MORE. Poem.. ONE DAY AT ARLE .H. H..... 613 .E. J. Mallett, Fr... 576 Kate Hillard. 748 ..Benson J. Lossing. 398 The Conservative Resources of American Life-Esthetics at a Premium-Rum and Railroads, I Theaters and Theater-going-The Loneliness of Farming Life in America, 238; The Christian Sabb in Great Cities-The Literary Bureaus again-Our President-Indirect Damages, 361; Strike, but I -The Wine Question in Society—Novel-Reading, 491; The Bane of the Republic--The Matter of S --Modern Preaching-Prizes for Suicide, 627; The New York Woman-The Art of Speaking New Names Stories without Point -Concerning a Pestilent Evil-MacDonald's " Within and Witho -Tragic, 109; Cousin Bertha-Our Standing Among our Friends-Talking about the Absent -Hur Sympathy-"The Afterglow"-Imitation-The Big Picture, 240; Old Probabilities-My Fam Friend-Poor Pillicoddy-Mrs. Whitney's "Pansies," 364; A Hard Time for Some of Us-Photogra and Looking-glasses-A Glimpse of One's Self-Wrecked on a Resemblance-Lost Opportunities, 4 Bulrushes The Little Red Salamanders-Tests-A Canon of Criticism-Let us have Faith, 630; AI gerous Question-Limitations-The Last, First-Quality-Separation-Beauty and the Beast-Ro VOL. IV. MAY, 1872. No. 1. MORNING on Arlington Heights, after a frosty night; season, Indian summer. The broad reach of the Potomac, curving from Georgetown to below the mouth of the Eastern Branch, sleeps under the slant rays of the haze-tempered sun, unreached by the puffs of wind which rustle the crimson foliage that still clings to the oaks on the Heights, or send the fallen leaves chasing each other by fits and starts, like flocks of yellow-birds frollicking over a patch of thistles. The air is crisp and cool; the sunshine just warm enough to be inviting. Both together act like a tonic, filling body and mind with a healthy glow that gives a zest to mere existence. The view from the Heights is not imposing. It is not particularly beautiful. Yet it would be hard to look VOL. IV. -I |