The Knickerbocker, Vol. 10, No. 5, November 1837

In Short

This volume is a quintessential nineteenth-century literary periodical, serving as a repository for essays, travelogues, fiction, and criticism. Through a mix of high-minded political discourse and intimate storytelling, it reflects the values of an expanding, self-conscious republic. It remains a fascinating document for readers interested in the early American imagination, offering a bridge between the era’s formal pedagogical aspirations and its burgeoning interest in regional identity, the aesthetics of the landscape, and the sentimental power of the written word.

The Story

The narrative arc of this volume is not a single linear plot, but an expansive, interconnected exploration of the American experience as it stood in November 1837. The journey begins with the foundational belief in the republican experiment, framing universal education as the essential safeguard against political sophistry and the fragility of democracy. From this philosophical starting point, the focus shifts to the tangible realities of the classroom, contrasting the "amiable" but often under-qualified female teachers of the countryside with the "show" and "pretension" of urban schoolmasters, who favor rapid, superficial instruction over the cultivation of genuine intellect.

As the volume progresses, the geography of the American mind broadens. The reader is transported to the rugged, egalitarian heights of Vermont—held up as the purest example of republican character—and then to the contrasting "polished" coast of New England, where intellectual pride and refined sensibility reside. These portraits of character are balanced by the romantic allure of distant lands. Travels through Switzerland and along the Rhine—passing through Mayence and Coblentz—connect the American reader to the Old World, juxtaposing the "grandeur" of European history and scenery with the nascent, raw energy of the American frontier.

The story then descends into the wild, lonely reaches of the West. Here, the life of a frontier family, the Joplins, unfolds with stark intensity. Their departure from the settled East, their struggle to carve a life from the wilderness, and the eventual, tragic death of the husband from "dumb ague" provide a grim, powerful counterpoint to the earlier discussions of progress. The narrative cycle finds its balance in the intimate, quiet drama of a village post-office, where the young postmaster acts as a silent witness to the joys and sorrows of his community. These personal histories—of lovers, of families, and of aging—are elevated to an epic status, asserting that the lives of the humble possess an inherent dignity that rivals the greatest fiction.

Finally, the volume circles back to its initial focus on the mind. It explores the emerging "science" of phrenology, using it to reconcile the mysterious, uneven distribution of human genius, and closes with a series of critical reviews and literary tributes. The concluding pages celebrate the fine arts, cataloging books and art that anchor the American identity in a burgeoning tradition of science, poetry, and landscape, ultimately affirming that in a land of freedom, the cultivation of the spirit is the highest pursuit of a nation.

How It Unfolds

The republican foundation The volume opens by positioning the United States as a unique political experiment, arguing that its survival depends entirely on the widespread education of its citizens. This initial argument establishes the moral gravity that informs the rest of the text.

The critique of pedagogy The narrative shifts to a candid assessment of the nation’s schools, contrasting the limitations of rural teachers with the hollow vanity of city academics. It calls for a more professional, substantive approach to shaping the minds of the next generation.

Regional and global perspectives The text moves from the moral character of Vermont to the intellectual habits of the New England coast, before departing for a European grand tour. These sections provide a window into how Americans of the time viewed their own regional differences compared to the storied landscapes of Switzerland and Germany.

The frontier tragedy The focus turns to the brutal realities of life on the edge of the Indian country, detailing the Joplin family’s struggle for survival. This section offers a somber look at the physical and psychological costs of westward expansion.

The intimate village life The perspective settles into the quiet observation of a village post-office, where small-town correspondence acts as a mirror for the human condition. It elevates the daily lives of ordinary neighbors to a position of profound literary importance.

The final synthesis The volume concludes by bridging the gap between phrenology, the fine arts, and the preservation of personal history. It leaves the reader with a sense of a culture that is intensely curious, deeply sentimental, and firmly committed to the belief that the American story is still being written.

The People

• The Republican Citizen: An ideal figure who acts as the primary audience for the book. This person is imagined as a juror who must be constantly vigilant against political dishonesty, using their education to protect the "experiment" of freedom.
• The Rural and Urban Teachers: These figures represent the tension between sincerity and show. The rural teacher is portrayed as virtuous but limited, while the city teacher is often cast as a "pretender" who sacrifices depth for the sake of public fashion.
• The Joplin Family: The husband and wife represent the raw, unrefined energy of the frontier. The husband is a man of physical struggle and "bear bacon," while the wife embodies the silent, stoic endurance of the pioneer, ultimately facing the loss of her husband in a desolate, isolated cabin.
• Loyd Barnard: A young, sensitive deputy post-master who acts as the human heart of the village narrative. He possesses the rare, delicate quality of empathy, holding the "key" to his neighbors' secrets and feeling the weight of their joys and sorrows as if they were his own.
• The New Englander: A figure described as small in stature but possessed of an "intellectual face" and a "head full of bumps." He is characterized by a deep, almost painful pride that keeps him reserved until he is shown genuine respect, at which point he becomes a loyal, sensitive companion.

In Its Own Voice

Education in the United States is like the sun pouring his cheering radiance over every hill, and into every valley.

(This comparison highlights the author's optimistic view of the nation's commitment to universal learning.)

Every American citizen is a juror, before whom each officer of the government is on trial, in regard to his capacity and fidelity.

(This serves as the central justification for why civic education is non-negotiable in a republic.)

The true story of human relations never ends, and this seal of immortality it is, that gives a dignity and interest to the affections of the humble and unknown.

(This sentiment explains the focus on ordinary, village-level dramas as worthy of literary consideration.)

What It's Really About

The volume is fundamentally an inquiry into what constitutes a "noble" American life. It grapples with the tension between the pursuit of material success—the "show and bustle" of the city or the survivalism of the frontier—and the cultivation of the inward life. It asks whether a republic can truly sustain itself through the sheer force of its citizens' intelligence and moral character. Beneath the travelogues and the sketches lies a preoccupation with the "dignity of the humble," suggesting that the American project is not merely political, but deeply personal and domestic, defined by how we treat our neighbors, how we remember our dead, and how we interpret the vast, shifting geography of our own minds.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the slow, meditative pace of nineteenth-century prose will find this volume deeply rewarding. It offers a portal into a time when the American identity was being actively constructed through public debate, romantic poetry, and the exploration of the frontier. You will feel the intellectual restlessness of a young nation—a mixture of "fire around the heart" and a calm, exterior demeanor.

The book is not without its challenges. The language is often formal and ornate, and the period’s attitudes regarding frontier life, gender roles, and the "Indian country" are expressed with a casual, unfiltered bias that reflects the prejudices of the 1830s. It requires a reader willing to engage with the text on its own terms, navigating its occasional moralizing tone and its heavy reliance on classical allusions. Yet, it remains haunting in its descriptions of the human condition—the way a person’s life can fade, the melancholy of the "death-rattle," and the intense curiosity about why we love, why we read, and why we build. It lingers because it captures the fundamental, timeless wonder of existence: the realization that every life, no matter how small or hidden, contains an entire world of meaning.