The States and Union. [volume] (Ashland, Ohio) 1868-1872, 1869-09-01
James Fenimore Cooper:
BY JAMES PARTON.

BY JAMES PARTON.
This pioneer and ornament of the
young literature of the United States
was not SO happy man as we should
suppose he might have been. He had
an exaggerated estimate of his own i'm
portance, and as consequence he was
prone to undervalue both the charac-
ter and opinions of other men. I'm
like the genial and friendly Irving,
who never had an enemy because he
could never be an enemy, Cooper's life
| was sown with enmities, and it ended
in prodigious broil. He had, how
ever, admirable qualities, without reck-
oning his brilliant talents; and if he
had but thought a littleeless of HIM
self, and great deal more of others,
he might have been as much beloved
as he was admired.
His father was that rich and proud
old Federalist politician and member
of Congress, Judge William Cooper,
whose name figures in the history of
the intrigue of 1901 to toist Aaron
Burr upon the country as President,
instead of Thomas Jefferson, who was
the real choice of the victorious DEM
cratic party. 1t was Judge Cooper
who wrote, in the midst of the struggle
in the House of Representatives:
"a little good management would have
secured our object on the first vote.
Had Burr done anything for himself, he
would long ere this have been President"
This passage was much relied upon
by the friends of Burr in their success
full attempts to defend that politician
against the charge of aiding that ne
farious conspiracy. Judge Cooper at
that time was representative from
the State of New York, almost in the
very center of which, on the shores of
Lake Otsego, he lived in a kind of pi-
oneer baronial style-lord of country
of primeval forest. He had built
stately mansion near the lake, and he
lived in it very much in the manner
frequently described in the novels of
his son. Judge Cooper was q rich
man when he removed into the wilder
ness, but he became still richer by the
rapid rise in the value of the lands
which he had bought of the Indians.
His son, James Fenimore Cooper,
born in Burlington, New Jersey, in
1889, was little more than an infant
when the family took up their abode
in the forest around Lake Otsego, and
there he continued to live, the petted
child of a wealthy family, until at age
of thirteen he was sent to New Haven,
where he entered the Freshman class
of Yale College-the youngest pupil
in the Institution. It is not surprising
that his college life left few percepti-
bic traces upon his character or his
mind. He was too young to go to
college. A boy should be at least
eighteen years of age before he at
tempts to grapple with the subjects
which properly belong to a college
course, and which demand for their
consideration a certain maturity OF
mind seldom attained before eighteen.
He seems to have enjoyed his resi-
dence at New Haven. AT least, he
left college q year before his class
graduated, and accepted a midship-
mans commission in the navy of the
United States in which he served six
years, rising to the rank of Lieutenant.
He saw some service on the ocean,
and some ON Lake Ontario enough in
all to give him the knowledge of sea
life which his sea novels exhibit. But
just as the country was drifting into
the war of 1912 with Great Britain,
which would have given abundant
scope for all his seamanship and dar-
ing he fell in love with Susan DeLan-
cey, an admirable girl, of the we'll
known New York De Lanceys. On
New years day of 1911, Lieutenant
Cooper married this young lady, and
resigning his commission soon after,
settled in a pleasant village on Long
Island Sound, thirty miles from New
York.
Here he lived for some years the
half-idlc life of country gentleman,
without the remotest expectation of at
tracing to himself the particular at
tention of the world. So far as is
known, he had never given any par
ticular indication of possessing tai
ent for literature, and probably did
not himself suspect the existence of
the gift that slumbered within him.
He used to relate the trifing circum-
stances which led to his first attempt.
He was reading aloud to his wife one
OF those tedious and trivial English
novels, invented, [ believe, by Miss
Austin, which were so common before
Scott and Cooper supplanted them.--
Weary of the spiritlcss delineations
of inane characters, he said to his wife,
with yawn: Hfi
81 can write a better novel than
that myself"
"You had better try, replied she; /;
and thought no more of itad ~ -.
1t was happy and timely sugges-
ton. He was young, energetic, with
plenty of ambition, and nothing to do.
Without telling even his wife of his
intention, he began to write a novel,
which he named "Precaution," and
which, after few weeks of secret toll,
he had the pleasure of submitting to
his wife's inspection, and reading it to
a circle of friends. 1t is a curious
thing, but he produced merely q toll
erable imitation of the very kind of
novel with which he had been so much
disgusted. Partial friends, however,
llattered the author, as they generally
do, and he was induced in 1919 to
publish it, at his own expense, in two
volumes. 1t had a moderate success,
but made nothing that resembled a hit;
and was indeed singularly devoid of
all that energy, and lirc, and graphic
power which distinguished the authors
later works. He was thea thirty years