St. Nicholas Vol. XIII, September, 1886, No. 11: An Illustrated Magazine for Young Folks

In Short

This periodical serves as a time capsule of late 19th-century intellectual life for young people. It balances educational non-fiction—ranging from the lives of English painters to the geography of the American West—with serialized fiction and interactive reader correspondence. By prioritizing cultural literacy, scientific curiosity, and character development, the magazine offers a window into how children were encouraged to engage with their world. Its enduring legacy lies in its refusal to talk down to its readers, treating them instead as budding scholars, artists, and citizens of a global community.

The Story

The magazine unfolds through a diverse array of narrative and informative threads. History and art are treated with scholarly weight; readers learn how the English Royal Academy was born from the success of William Hogarth, whose observational grit transformed native art. We see the trajectory of artistic temperament through the lives of figures like Thomas Gainsborough, who finds his grounding in his wife’s thrift, and the sensitive Landseer, whose bond with Sir Walter Scott shapes his romantic vision of the Scottish Highlands. The prose paints these lives as lessons in industry and integrity, emphasizing that true genius requires both talent and a stable moral core.

Shifting to contemporary fiction, the magazine presents the trials of young women navigating social expectations. We follow Nan and Bert, two girls straining against the "luxuries of aimlessness" and the vapid social circles of their class. Bert dreams of subverting those circles, while Nan seeks more "nourishing rations" for her life than mere social success. Their search for meaning reflects the era's growing impatience with rigid gender roles. Simultaneously, the magazine features the serialized drama of the "Little Lord Fauntleroy," where the titular character faces the confusion of lost inheritance. Cedric, however, remains unconcerned with titles, valuing only his relationship with his grandfather. His innocence is tested by a fraudulent claim to his station, but the narrative hinges on his steadfast affection, which eventually softens the Earl’s stern, aristocratic heart.

The scope then widens to the American landscape. We hear of the frontier, where the bison’s vulnerability to the "civilized man" serves as a sobering reminder of the ecological cost of progress. George Washington is presented not merely as a soldier, but as a visionary statesman looking toward the Ohio Valley, seeing the necessity of connecting East and West to solidify a young Union. The narrative arc finally settles into the practical, domestic, and inquisitive lives of the magazine's readers. We see children in Maine navigating the dangers of the coast, others learning the mechanics of marquetry, and young naturalists debating the merits of the English sparrow. The issue concludes by fostering a sense of community, connecting children across the globe—from the bustling streets of New York to the quiet homes of Hungary—all united by their shared participation in the magazine’s puzzles, letters, and the burgeoning movement to protect the natural world.

How It Unfolds

The cultural foundation The issue opens by grounding the reader in history, detailing the shifts in English painting from the royal patronage of Henry VIII to the emergence of native masters like Gainsborough. These biographical sketches position art as a product of both individual discipline and social environment.

The struggle for identity The narrative moves to the domestic sphere, where young women like Bert and Nan begin to question the emptiness of high-society life. Their internal monologues reveal a desire for purpose that disrupts the traditional expectations of their upbringing.

The test of character Through the experiences of Little Lord Fauntleroy, the magazine explores the tension between birthright and moral worth. Cedric’s gentle nature acts as a catalyst for change in the hardened, older generation.

The exploration of the wild The focus shifts outward to the American frontier and the natural world. Detailed reports on the behavior of deer and the plight of wild birds transition the reader from indoor study to environmental stewardship.

The community of minds The final section transforms the magazine into a dialogue, where readers share scientific observations, solve intricate linguistic puzzles, and report on the activities of their local chapters of the Agassiz Association.

The People

The figures within these pages are defined by their capacity for growth and their adherence to duty. William Hogarth stands as the archetype of the self-made, truthful artist, while Sir Edwin Landseer represents the intersection of artistic imagination and emotional vulnerability. Thomas Gainsborough’s life is anchored by Margaret Burr, who provides the practical stability his creative temperament lacks. In the realm of fiction, Cedric—the young Lord Fauntleroy—is the moral compass, whose lack of ambition for status makes him incorruptible. Opposite him, the Earl of Dorincourt undergoes the most profound shift, moving from a position of cold, detached authority to one of genuine, human connection. Bert and Nan are the modern seekers, defined by their restlessness and their critical, sometimes witty, rejection of societal artifice. These individuals are portrayed as models for the reader, illustrating how one might navigate the complexities of art, duty, and social standing.

In Its Own Voice

"He was a teacher as well as an artist, for his pictures dealt with familiar scenes and subjects and presented the lessons of the follies of his day with more effect upon the mass of the people than any writer could produce with his pen, or any preacher by his sermons."

This observation highlights the moral authority attributed to William Hogarth’s work.

"The moment a bird was dead, however beautiful it had been when in life, the pleasure arising from the possession of it became blunted."

This quote from John James Audubon serves as the emotional foundation for the nascent society dedicated to the protection of birds.

"I don't care about the earl part at all; I don't care whether I'm an earl or not; I thought--you see, I thought the one that was going to be the Earl would have to be your boy, too, and--and I couldn't be."

Cedric expresses his simple, heartfelt priority to his grandfather, valuing their bond over his noble title.

What It's Really About

At its core, this magazine explores the tension between inheritance and merit. It argues that whether one inherits an estate, a talent for painting, or a place in the social hierarchy, the value of that inheritance is determined by one's actions. It promotes a life of "nourishing" activity over idle consumption, urging the young reader to be an active participant in their education. There is a constant push toward observation—looking closely at a painting, a wild animal, or the letters of an alphabet—to understand the underlying order of the world. Ultimately, it emphasizes that kindness and integrity are the true measures of a person's worth.

Why Read It Today

Readers today will find this magazine a fascinating window into a period that valued rigorous intellectual engagement for the young. It feels like a quiet, scholarly conversation, filled with the warmth of a society that took its civic and natural responsibilities seriously. You will love the precision of the writing and the sheer variety of its contents, from the technical instructions on woodworking to the charming, intricate word-games that occupy the final pages.

However, you must be prepared for the period-specific attitudes; the writing reflects the Victorian era’s class structures and its romanticized view of colonial expansion and "civilized" dominion over nature. The prose can be dense, and the references to 19th-century social figures may require some context for the modern reader. Yet, the persistent call for environmental protection and the encouragement of independent, critical thinking feel surprisingly contemporary. What stays with you is the sense that the magazine’s contributors truly believed that children were capable of tackling complex, "grown-up" questions. It is a rare experience to read a publication that assumes its audience is intellectually hungry, and for those who enjoy the historical texture of the 1880s, this issue offers a rewarding and thoughtful excursion.