The Knickerbocker, Vol. 10, No. 2, August 1837

In Short

This collection serves as a quintessential example of the nineteenth-century "gentleman’s magazine." It aggregates essays on philosophy, travelogues from Europe, biting critiques of contemporary publishing practices, and creative fiction, all tied together by a sophisticated, witty editorial voice. By preserving the diverse anxieties and aspirations of its time—from the perceived decline of traditional church structures to the prideful defense of the American Revolution—the work endures as a primary source for the cultural history of the Jacksonian era, reflecting both the elegance and the prejudices of its contributors.

The Story

The narrative arc of the volume is not one of a single plot, but of a vast, intellectual pilgrimage. It opens with a philosophical challenge to the then-common belief that human inequality is merely the result of differing external circumstances. The writer argues instead for a more complex, innate mental organization, setting a tone of rigorous, if sometimes provocative, inquiry. This philosophical grounding soon gives way to the "luxuries" of the intellect, as the text pivots to consider the role of genius in society, contrasting the "good" poet who elevates the human heart with the dangerous, if brilliant, figures like Byron.

From these lofty abstractions, the reader is ushered into the grit and theater of human crisis. A striking, dramatic sequence unfolds in a hospital setting where surgeons, students, and attendants grapple with a patient’s agonizing injury. In a moment of high tension, a young student intervenes to save the patient through a daring, ruse-filled operation, demonstrating the necessity of quick-witted action in the face of medical failure. This blend of clinical observation and narrative flair characterizes the volume’s movement toward the practical and the worldly.

The journey continues across the Atlantic, as an observant traveler records a voyage through Scotland, London, and beyond. Through these "rough notes," the reader visits the literary haunts of Johnson and Goldsmith, observes the efficiency of the London police, and reflects on the stark contrast between the intellectual accessibility of books in America versus the high-priced exclusivity of the English market. These impressions are interspersed with poetry and reflections on the shifting religious landscape of the United States, where the old, rigid Presbyterianism seems to be dissolving under the weight of innovation and congregational change.

The volume concludes by grounding itself firmly in the American experience. It reflects on the rugged beauty of the Catskill Mountains—comparing them favorably to the Appenines—and offers a sobering, patriotic look back at the desperate, freezing winter of Valley Forge. By juxtaposing the profound sacrifices of the revolutionary past with the mundane, humorous advertisements for local dining establishments like "Knickerbocker Hall," the book settles into a final, balanced perspective: it is a record of a nation simultaneously building its history, refining its tastes, and managing the everyday, trivial "bagatelles" of life.

How It Unfolds

The philosophical inquiry The volume opens by questioning the "learned" consensus on human equality, positing that mental organization, rather than mere circumstance, dictates the disparities between nations and individuals. This sets a serious, analytical pace for the essays that follow.

The assessment of genius The focus shifts to the nature of artistic talent, distinguishing between those who use their gifts to improve the human heart and those whose brilliance leaves no lasting benefit to their fellow men. This transition moves the text from the realm of the political to the realm of the aesthetic.

The medical drama In an abrupt shift, the narrative enters a hospital theater where a high-stakes, nearly botched surgery forces a young man to use a theatrical ruse to save a patient. This sequence provides a stark, visceral counterpoint to the earlier, more abstract discussions.

The travelogue of the Old World The reader is transported to Europe, where the narrator tours Scotland and London, meticulously documenting the historical sites of the literary masters and the social structures of the modern metropolis. These observations emphasize the cultural differences between the Old World and the New.

The American reflection The volume returns home to meditate on the landscape of the Catskills and the near-fatal struggle of the American Revolution. These final segments serve to anchor the reader’s focus on the unique, emerging identity of the American citizen.

The People

The book features a cast that serves as a cross-section of its era. The "Learned" are the primary antagonists of the opening argument, representing the established, perhaps complacent, intellectual elite. In the medical narrative, we encounter the "Subaltern" and the unnamed hospital staff, whose rigid, hierarchical behavior—down to the "No. 14" who orders his inferiors about—illustrates the pervasive influence of rank. The "Young Student" who performs the surgery stands out as an emblem of modern resourcefulness, using daring and artifice to achieve what the established surgeons cannot.

In the travel notes, the "Narrator" acts as our guide, a man of refined sensibilities who admires the "lions" of the stage yet remains fiercely proud of his American democratic roots. We also meet "Juba," the faithful servant in the backwoods tale, who, through his shrewdness and ability to act a part, becomes the unexpected hero of a domestic crisis. Finally, there is the personification of "Sorrow" and "Bagatelle," characters in the poetry who represent the eternal struggle between the burden of heavy, "monkish" seriousness and the lighthearted, frolicsome joy of a life well-lived.

In Its Own Voice

"Now if it can be made to appear, as I think it can, that the difference in the external condition of men and nations is mainly attributable to their mental organization, it will be obvious that the learned, who have undertaken to solve this question, have been so unphilosophical as to substitute the effect for the cause."

The author challenges the prevailing social theories of the 1830s by arguing that innate mental differences, not just environment, drive human inequality.

"A paper money, without any certain foundation, and unmixed with any specie, was both counterfeited by the enemy, and discredited by their partizans."

This stark account of the economic fragility of the American Revolution highlights the desperate circumstances faced by the troops at Valley Forge.

"How many of the thousands among us who get the last novel of Bulwer, James, or Marryat, for the trifling sum of fifty cents, would make the purchase, if they had to pay one pound eleven shillings and sixpence, or seven dollars, as in London?"

The narrator uses the high cost of literature in England to illustrate the greater accessibility of culture and information in the American democracy.

What It's Really About

The volume is fundamentally an exploration of the "American experiment" in the context of global history. It asks whether a people can be truly equal when their intellectual capacities and circumstances are so varied. It grapples with the tension between the weight of tradition—represented by the aging, rigid church structures and the historic ruins of Europe—and the fluid, innovative, and sometimes chaotic nature of the new American republic. Beneath the varied topics lies a persistent inquiry into what constitutes a "great or good man" in a society that is rapidly moving away from old hierarchies toward a future defined by mass participation, democratic ideals, and the unpredictable, often frantic, pace of modern progress.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the slow, deliberate pace of nineteenth-century prose will find this volume deeply rewarding. It offers the sensation of stepping into a well-stocked private library, where one can move from a serious philosophical treatise to a lighthearted poem or a piece of vivid, dramatic fiction in the span of a few pages. The language is formal and precise, demanding a level of focus that is rare in modern media, but the payoff is a rich understanding of the American mind during its formative years.

The work does not shy away from the period’s limitations; the casual, dismissive attitudes toward non-Western cultures and the often haughty tone of the editors are clearly visible. These are not flaws to be overlooked, but rather evidence of the specific, bounded worldview of the era. The reader will find that the text is at its best when it is most opinionated, offering a sharp-eyed look at the transition from the old ways of thinking to the new. It is for those who want to understand not just what people were doing in 1837, but how they were processing the rapid, often dizzying changes in their social and intellectual landscape.