The native Virginian. [volume] (Orange Court House, Va.) 1867-187?, 1868-05-22
ORANGE COURT HOUSE, VA FRIDAY MORNING. MAY 22 1868

nor by natural Incidence, nor yet by
that recuperativc idleness, which the
Country Parson commends; but grows
out of positive liking for ''lounging,n y
as n good thing in itself, and because it
is in his blood. He loves work, delights
in it, indeed; but he loves ''lounging,"
too, and delights in it thoroughly
Doubtless this play of light and shade,
these tidal waves of action and repose
are essential to the well-being of every
man, literary or not literary; but the
popularity in Cookies case is this-that
he is not beset, as so many literary men
are during their periods of inaction, with
vain regrets about lost time, yearnings
for some impossible faculty of incessant
labour, accompanied with hearty dam
nings of their mental impotence. but
accepts the situation frankly, aud rel
ishes his loungings as sincerely as his
labours. This happy frame enables aim
to make his vacations what they ought
to be to all authors-seasons ofabsolute
rest, without one troubling thought
and brings him back to his work ever
fresh, vigorous, joyous. Hence the
charm OF his writings. which always en-
livcn and seldom fever fatigue. You
are borne bounding and gaily along, as
upon mettlesome steed, not jolted and
dragged at a funeral pace on jaded,
wind-broken and thick-ankled hack.
The character of my friend, as man,
not as an author, is easily told. His
tastes are simple, his disposition afiec-
tionate, his habits quiet, his manners
unstudied. He is friend-maker,
lover OF children and of servants. While
we were in the midst of our great talk,
the evening 1 reached "the Vineyard,
a little negro girl appeared suddenly
before us. "Marse John. come to
show you the new dress you give me. :"
Cooke made her turn round to show
the fit of the dress, approved, admired,
and sent her away rejoicing. When he
lived in Richmond, his old Nanny"
paid him regular visits at his roo ms, and
with him, found his rocking chair EN-
circled by little glrls, the daughters of
his friends. On his return to Richmond,
after the war, one of the first visits he
made was to his "Mammy." Separated
from her now, he still keeps up the old
relations by means of frequent presents
and kindly messages to her in letters
to his relatives.
He is friend maker, but he does not
wear his heart upon his sleeve for DAVIS
to peck at. He is none of your jolly
good fellows, hand In glove with Bob,
Tom and. ..Hobnail. His friends are few
but firm. They are firm, because he
himself is firm and true. He loves, not
for position, but for positive qualities of
the soul, and his love is returned in
kind f-. ,.
J., He is high-toncd. Littleness and in
direction are his dctcstation. His natu-
raj pride, chastened by Christianity, has
never degenerated into insolence,. but
has served its legitimate purpose in keep
/ ing him true to himself and to his best
interests. Beginning life in Richmond
as an author, under many disadvantages
and against the wishes of his friends,
he held steadfastly to his purpose, never
running in debt, never borrowing mo-
ney, resisting all temptations TO conviv-
iality and the customary pleasures of
young men in society, denying himself
resolntely and pressing forward to the
high mark before him without swerying
to the right hand or the left. His self
denial and devotion to the profession
he had chosen were speedily rewarded.
In very few years and before ne was
four and twenty, he had made a name
III letters and reputation which
brought him money, work and fame
such as comparatively few men in the
South, after a score of years of arduous
literary toll, ever attain His novels
were republished in England and Ger
many, and as a contributor to the lead
ing periodicals of the North and South
his name became familiar in all parts of
the country. Harper's Monthly was
often enriched by his contributions, and
some of the most important biographi-
cal sketches in Applcton's New Ency-
clopedia came from his pen. Indeed,
there are rot few who esteem these
sketches more highly than his most
elaborate compositions. But his novels
have made his fame. AS curious re-
suit of this fame, he showed me letters
from correspondents of whom he had
never before heard, who had read his
books and desired to express their
gratitude for the pleasure they had de-
rived from them. These letters came
from all parts of the Union, and were
addressed to Capt. Cooke, Major Cooke,
Colonel Cooke, add even Gen. Cooke.
His proper rank is that of Captain
He is. helieve, the only prominent lit
erary man in the South, who was in the
army from the beginning to the close of
the war. This is high honor, Other
literary men were in for a time, and
cOtilC vi pay GU btlCif DuItS WGlls
but, sooner or later, they all got out
Cooke joined the Richmond Howitzers
before the war, and accompanied them
to Harper's Ferry at the time of the
John Brown raid. When the war broke
out and the HowitZers increased to
battalion, Cooke was promoted to the
rank of sergeant in Capt. Shields's
company and as such comma lded gun
at the first Manassas and the battle of
Leesburg. In the fall of '61 or the win
ter of '62 he was assigned to duty on
the staff of his connection, Gen. j. Il.
u. Stuart, and remained with him until
he was mortally wounded at the Yellow
Tavern. After that, he was attached
to the artillery corps of the Army of
Northern Virginia, as Inspector Gener-
al. While he was with Stuart, he saw
active service in its most arduoils forms,
and was by the side of ''the flower of
cavaliers" in his hottest engagements
and most perilous raids.
With the rest ofthe faithful, he sswent
up" at App0mattox q. III.
But am not here to discuss Cooke
as an author, man, soldier or anything
else. l am no biographcr-I'm a Wuf-
fix. My aim was to tell about my vis-
it, and here have gone off in a pane
gyric, like biographer for all the world
But Cooke has his faults, plenty of them;
he wouldn be man much less Cooke.
if he didn't have them. Am to incur
his fierce dispfeasurc, the rage of his
family and friends, and, belize, the en-
nifty Of the immortal gods, by deserib-
ing those faults? will do no such
thing. But here certainly is problem:
You ought by no means to sly anything
buS good of the dead, and, unless you
want to raise arrow, you had better not
say anything but good of the living
How is 1t possible, then, to tell the truth,
which, Napoleon IIi says should be to
the historian ibig biographer) no less