CHAPTER VI. (p. 099)

1828-1833.

Misrepresentation and abuse of his native land it was not in Cooper's

nature to bear in silence. His resentment for the imputations cast upon

his country began to show itself soon after he had taken up his

residence abroad. In "The Red Rover," which appeared in 1827, there are

satirical references to the benevolence and piety of the moral

missionaries which England had sent among us, and to the correctness and

wisdom of current foreign opinion. In the next novel, "The Wept of

Wish-ton-Wish," his feelings are still more fully expressed. In this

work he puts into the mouth of one of the characters, a physician, an

elaborate disquisition upon the degeneracy of man in America. In the

course of it the leech informs his opponent that the science and wisdom

and philosophy of Europe had been exceedingly active in the

investigation of this matter of colonial inferiority, that they had

proved to their own perfect satisfaction, which was the same thing as

disposing of the question without appeal, that man and beast, plant and

tree, hill and dale, lake, pond, sun, air, fire, and water were all

wanting in some of the perfectness of the old regions. It was plain we

could never hope to reach the exalted excellence they enjoy; and while

he respected the patriotism that held the contrary view, he could not,

out of deference to it, afford to doubt what had been demonstrated (p. 100)

by science and collected by learning.

It was not in this indirect way, however, that he could content himself

with defending his country. No sooner had he lived in Europe long enough

to become acquainted with the erroneous impressions there prevalent, in

regard to America, than he set out to prepare a work which should expose

their falsity. In it he determined to lay the precise facts before a

public which was indisposed to believe anything to the credit, and

disposed to believe everything to the discredit of democratic institutions.

On the face of it, this was a futile undertaking, no matter how

praiseworthy its motive. Nations, no more than individuals, are

convinced by what other nations say of themselves; it is only by what

they do. In this particular case the difficulty was rendered more

insurmountable by the fact that these erroneous impressions prevailed

among those who did not care enough about the matter to investigate it

seriously, and who would be certain in most cases to refrain from

investigating it at all, had they a suspicion that their preconceived

beliefs would be overthrown or even shaken, as a result of their

examination. The question naturally arises, whether such men could be

convinced by facts and arguments, and if so, whether they were worth the

trouble of convincing. Why grudge the adherents of a dying cause the

dismal enjoyment they receive from contemplating the ruin that is always

being wrought, or is always to be wrought, by Democracy to Democracy?

Experience led Cooper subsequently to see the uselessness of the

experiment he, in this instance, tried. When asked at a later period why

some efforts were not made to correct the false notions prevalent (p. 101)

in Europe in regard to America, he answered with perfect truth then,

that no favorable account would be acceptable; that it would not be

enough to confess our real faults, but we should be required to confess

the precise faults that, according to the opinions of that quarter of

the world, we were morally, logically, and politically bound to possess.

By the wide circulation of his fictions he, in truth, did more to remove

wrong impressions, dissipate prejudices, and open the eyes of Europe to

a knowledge of American life and manners, than could have been

accomplished by the longest and most ponderous array of indisputable

facts.

Facts, however, he at this time purposed to furnish. Accordingly, on the

13th of August, 1828, appeared a work entitled, "Notions of the

Americans, Picked up by a Traveling Bachelor." Whatever its actual

success, it was a relative failure. Cooper himself tells us that it

occasioned him a heavy pecuniary loss. Manner and matter, both

foredoomed it to the fate which it met. The plan of it was an unfortunate

one as well as a purely artificial one. The views and observations and

statements of fact are put into the mouth of a European traveling

bachelor, a member of a club of cosmopolites, who, in consequence of

meeting an American, named Cadwallader, is persuaded to visit and see

for himself the new world. Arriving there he writes letters to his

friends, giving an account of his impressions. The fiction of foreign

authorship was the first mistake. It could not mislead any one, nor was

it intended to mislead any one. But a grave didactic treatise which was

designed to convey a truthful impression, lost something and gained

nothing by being connected with any artifice, even though not meant to

impose upon the reader. Nor was the work interesting to one not (p. 102)

specially interested in the subject. To the American it gave the

strongest assurances of loyalty to republican institutions on the part

of her most widely-known man of letters; but it added little or nothing

to the information of which he was already in possession. On the other

hand, the laudatory style in which this country was invariably spoken of

was certain to be offensive to those whom it was the design of the work

to enlighten. The weight of matter, moreover, was not rendered any more

endurable by lightness of treatment. At the present day the work is

chiefly interesting for the keen observations that are found in it, and

for its remarks upon the future of the country rather than upon its then

existing state. Cooper's predictions were concerned with the minutest,

as well as the greatest subjects. They ranged all the way from the

indefinite assurance, that New York must eventually become the

gastronomic capital of the globe, to the precise statement, as to the

exact number of the population there would be in the United States fifty

years from the time in which he was writing. This last prophecy, it is

to be said, has turned out singularly true. He fixed the number at fifty

millions. That this was no chance guess, but a carefully worked out

computation, is evident from the fact that he repeats it several times

in this work and occasionally in later ones. He, moreover, assigned

definitely forty-three millions to the whites and seven millions to the

blacks.

It is not for an American to find fault with the laudatory tone of a

work which reflects the ardent love of country felt by the writer. Yet

in many respects it is a singular production. In manner it is calm,

grave, almost philosophical; there is not the slightest effort at (p. 103)

fine writing; the tone can never be said to be even fervid. Yet it

must be confessed that not in the most exalted of Fourth of July

orations does the national eagle scream with a shriller note, or wing

his way with a more unflagging flight. Any one who formed his notions of

this country exclusively from this book, would be sure to fancy that

here at last paradise was reopening to the children of a fallen race.

After this remark, it may seem ridiculous, and yet it is perfectly just

to say, that Cooper, so far from giving way to exaggeration in his

assertions, kept himself well within the bounds of the truth. In the

exercise of that duty which presses heavily upon every reviewer, to

seem, if not to be wiser than his author, many of the English

periodicals, even those most favorable to America, undertook to doubt

his statements of fact, to sneer at his prophecies of the future as

ludicrous exaggerations, and to term them striking and whimsical

instances of Yankee braggadocio, and of the love of building castles in

the air. Cooper could not well overstate the material prosperity and

progress of the country, nor the inability of men trained under

different conditions either to believe it or to comprehend it. Reality

soon outran some of his most daring anticipations. His most extravagant

statements were speedily more than confirmed by the operation of

agencies whose mighty results he could not foresee, because, when he

wrote, the agencies themselves did not exist. He had carefully guarded

himself in one instance, by saying that he did not expect that the

Northwest would be settled within an early period. The precaution was

unnecessary. He had been brought up in a town, founded in the

wilderness, at a distance of less than one hundred and fifty miles (p. 104)

from the commercial capital of the republic. He lived long enough to see

the frontiers of civilization pushed one thousand miles west of the line

it had held in his boyhood's home.

Any wrong impression, therefore, which the work conveyed was not due to

the spirit of braggadocio pervading it, as asserted and commented upon

by the English reviewers. No false statement was made intentionally;

there were very few that were made mistakenly. But though Cooper

purposed to tell nothing but truth about his country, he did not feel

himself under obligation to tell all the truth. The attention was almost

exclusively directed to that side of the national character which lent

itself most readily to favorable treatment. What was unfavorable was

either omitted altogether, or was very lightly passed over. One letter

alone, and that not a long one, was devoted to slavery. It is plain that

he was annoyed by it; to some extent, in spite of his confidence,

disquieted by it, though the dangers he feared were not the dangers that

actually came. Even at that early day there was enough to trouble the

lover of his country in the criticism it encountered, for the glaring

contrast between its professions of liberty and its practice; but far

more in the dimly-seen shape of that gigantic struggle which, though

itself vague and undefined, was already beginning to cast its lowering

shadow over the future of the republic. So in a similar manner the

literature, architecture, and art of America were passed over in a few

pages, while letter after letter was given up to a description of its

progress in wealth and comfort. Yet no one knew better than Cooper,--at

a later period he took care his countrymen should not forget it,--that

of all standards by which to test national glory, the material (p. 105)

standard is in itself the lowest and most vulgar; and that the

difference in real greatness between two places can never be measured by

the comparative amount of sugar, or salt, or flour sold in each. Yet he

remembered then, what later he seemed to forget, that the necessity of

conquering the continent, of making it inhabitable for man, was at the

time and must continue long to remain a very positive hindrance to the

development of literary and artistic ability, because by the immense

rewards it offered it attracted to the development of material resources

the intellect and vigor of the entire land.

Cooper tells us, as has been said, that he lost money on this work. But

there was something more than pecuniary failure that attended it. There

were in it statements which met with disfavor at home. More important

than these, however, were remarks that aroused personal hostility

abroad. He made several references, in particular, to the people of

England, and they were not of a kind to conciliate regard for himself

and his work. In one place he spoke of the society of that country as

being more repulsive, artificial, and cumbered, and, in short, more

absurd and frequently less graceful than that of any other European

nation. Theoretically, the English care nothing for foreign opinion.

They have said it so often among themselves that most of them look upon

it as a point which has been settled by the consent of mankind. But like

many other beliefs it has become an article of faith without having

become an article of practice. To this extent it is true that they care

nothing for the remarks of obscure men of which they never hear. On the

other hand, no nation is more sensitive to contemporary foreign opinion,

coming from writers of distinction. There will be plenty of (p. 106)

instances furnished in this one biography to prove fully this assertion.

Cooper's attack was never forgotten or forgiven. From this time there

was a distinctly hostile feeling manifested toward him in many of the

English periodicals. Even before his next work appeared, London

correspondents of American newspapers announced that it was going to be

severely criticised, inasmuch as the novelist had made himself unpopular

in England by the comments made and the views put forth in the "Notions

of the Americans." If this were not true, it was at least believed to be

true. Certainly the fact of hostility steadily increasing from this

period, on the part of the British press, cannot be denied, whatever we

may think of the causes that brought it about. Nor did it stop short

with depreciation of his works. Literary criticism, even if based merely

upon personal dislike, can always resort with safety to the cheap

defense that it is honest. But there were reviewers who went farther,

who framed for Cooper imaginary feelings and then proceeded to assail

him for having them. He was accused, especially, of pluming himself

highly upon the title of the "American Scott." Hazlitt, for instance,

seeing him strutting, as he terms it, in the streets of Paris, was

enabled to detect by the way the novelist walked the way he felt upon

this special matter, and afterward to state the conclusion at which he

had arrived as a positive fact. Similar specimens of fine critical

insight into Cooper's motives and sentiments can be found scattered up

and down the pages of English journals.

At the time he was bringing out "The Water Witch" in Germany, the

revolution in France took place that resulted in the expulsion of (p. 107)

the Bourbons and the calling of Louis Philippe to the throne. Paris

became at once the Mecca to which the lovers of liberty throughout

Europe resorted. Thither Cooper hastened from his home in Dresden. He

reached the city in August, 1830. There he watched with the profoundest

interest the political movements that were going on about him. The

reactionary tendencies that early began to manifest themselves in the

rule of the Citizen King, brought to him the same disappointment and the

same disgust that it did to all the ardent republicans of the Old World.

There is much in what he says to remind the reader of the feelings

expressed by Heine, who had likewise hurried to Paris after the July

revolution, and who was venting his indignation and contempt in the

columns of the Augsburg "Allgemeine Zeitung." Occasional passages bear

even a close similarity. Cooper on one occasion describes Louis Philippe

walking about among his subjects wearing a white hat, carrying a red

umbrella, and evidently laboring to act in an easy and affable manner.

"In short," he said in a phrase that might have been written by the

great German, "he was condescending with all his might."

Close upon the revolution in France followed the revolt of Poland. The

insurrection lasted about ten months, and during its progress the

feelings of Cooper were profoundly stirred in behalf of that people.

With this his personal friendship with the Polish poet, Mickiewicz, had

probably a great deal to do; for at Rome a close intimacy had sprung up

between him and that author. At a meeting, held in Paris on the 4th of

July, 1831, at which Cooper presided, a sum of money was contributed to

aid the revolters in their struggle. He presided also at other (p. 108)

meetings to advance the same cause, and acted as chairman of a committee

to raise funds to assist the Polish soldiers who were fighting for

independence, and when this failed, to relieve the exiles in their

distress. Two addresses to the American people signed by him in his

official capacity--one written in July, 1831, and the other in June,

1832--appeared in the American papers of those years; and the fervor

that characterizes them both leaves little doubt as to their authorship.

Into the great struggle going on in Europe, either openly or silently

between aristocracy and democracy, he now, indeed, threw himself with

his whole heart. In certain respects this was a disadvantage. Whenever

Cooper's feelings on political subjects were aroused, his literary work

betrayed the obtrusion of interests more dominating than those which

belong to it legitimately. This was manifested in the three tales which

followed. In them the scene of action was not only transferred to

European soil, but a direct attempt was avowedly made to apply American

principles to European facts. These novels were "The Bravo," which

appeared November 29, 1831; "The Heidenmauer," which appeared September

25, 1832; and "The Headsman," which appeared October 18, 1833. The

purpose of all these was the direct exaltation of republican

institutions, and likewise the exposure of those which paraded in the

garb of liberty without possessing its reality. The scenes of two were

accordingly laid in the aristocratic cities of Venice and of Berne. The

first of the three is generally spoken of as the best, especially by

those who have read none of them at all. Little difference will be

found, as a matter of fact, between "The Bravo" and "The Headsman" (p. 109)

as regards literary merit. "The Heidenmauer" is, however, distinctly

inferior, and is in truth one of the most tedious novels that Cooper

ever wrote. All were, however, animated by the same spirit. They all

assailed oligarchical, and lauded democratic institutions. They were

full of denunciations of the accommodating stupidity of patricians who

were never able to see anything beneficial to the interests of the state

in what was injurious to the interests of their own order. In

particular, the doctrine was held up to derision, that while to the

ignorant and the low there was ample power given to suffer, there was no

power given to understand; and that consequently it was their duty

always to obey and never to criticise.

In writing this series Cooper was undertaking what was on the face of it

a hazardous experiment. The peril was not, as thoughtless criticism has

had it, in transferring his scenes and characters to a foreign soil.

Human nature suffers no material change in passing from America to

Europe. The danger lay in the fact that these were novels written with a

purpose. The story was not told for its own sake, but for the sake of

enforcing certain political opinions. It required, therefore, unusual

skill in its construction and in the management of its details. For

whatever may be the exact truth contained in the doctrine of art for

art's sake, this is certainly clear, that in a work of fiction designed

to advance successfully any cause, or support any theory, the didactic

element must be made entirely subordinate to the purely creative

element. Otherwise we impart to the novel the tediousness of a homily

without its accepted authority. Art must be wooed as a mistress; she can

never be commanded as a slave. He, therefore, who seeks to press (p. 110)

fiction into a work so foreign to its nature as the inculcation of

political opinions, must, if he hopes to succeed, make the story suggest

the lesson without conveying it obtrusively. Above all is there need of

delicate touch and skillful handling, if the aim be to affect those who

are prejudiced against the views expressed, or whose interests are

involved in the fate of those attacked. But Cooper's was never a

delicate touch. What he thought he never insinuated; what he believed

himself he never allowed to make its way indirectly into the minds of

others. He always uttered it boldly, and sometimes offensively.

Effective this assuredly is in compositions of a certain class; but it

is entirely out of place in a work of fiction. In the case of these

particular novels the purpose is avowed openly and repeatedly. Cooper,

indeed, takes care never to let it escape the reader's attention. He may

almost be said to stand by his shoulder to jog him if he once happens to

forget that the story has a moral. American institutions, especially,

were constantly held up as models in which the best results were seen,

and which it was the policy of all other countries to imitate. The

course taken was a mark of patriotism; but it was not the way to gain

converts. It is, in truth, the misfortune of the novelist, burdened with

a moral purpose, that the reader usually feels the burden and is not

affected by the moral. It was not by methods like these that Scott threw

about chivalry and aristocracy that glamour which outlasts the most

minute acquaintance with the reality, and influences the imagination in

spite of the protest of the judgment.

But another result that followed from writing novels with a purpose, had

a more direct influence upon his reputation. It made it impossible (p. 111)

that his work should any longer be criticised fairly. This was

immediately seen in the case of "The Bravo." This novel had far more

success in Europe than in America. But the success was not of a

legitimate kind. Parties were at once arrayed for it or against it, not

because it was a good or bad production from a literary point of view,

but according as men sympathized with or were hostile to the political

principles it advocated. It was not the merit of the work that came

under consideration, but the merit of the cause. This at once destroyed

almost entirely the value of any criticism which the story received.

A little while before "The Bravo" appeared, Cooper was unwillingly led

to take part in a controversy which, according to his own view, was the

remote cause of the hostility he afterwards encountered in his own land.

It was at the time that the movement began on the part of Louis Philippe

to separate himself from the liberals, of whom Lafayette was the chief

representative. A discussion had arisen, in the French Chamber of

Deputies, on the desirability of a reduction in the expenses of

government. It gave rise to a controversy which extended much beyond the

body in which it originated. Lafayette had advocated greater economy. In

the course of the debate mentioned, he had referred to the United States

as being a country which was cheaply governed, and at the same time well

governed. The periodical press at once took up the question. M. Saulnier,

one of the editors of the "Revue Britannique," came out with an article,

the direct object of which was to prove that a government of three

powers, such as was the limited monarchy recently established, was not

so expensive as that of a republic. In particular, he claimed that (p. 112)

the tax levied per head on the citizens of France was less than that

similarly levied on the citizens of the United States. This was a direct

attack upon Lafayette, who had for forty years been maintaining that the

government of this country was the cheapest known. The attention of

Cooper was called to this article, and he was asked to reply. He

declined. A little later it was made clear to him that the object with

which it was written was to injure Lafayette. The matter then assumed

another aspect. To that statesman Cooper was bound by ties of intimate

personal friendship and by a common love of this country. At a public

dinner, which had been given to Lafayette on the 8th of December, 1830,

by the Americans in Paris, Cooper had presided, and in a speech of

marked fervor and ability, he had dwelt upon the debt due from the

United States to the gallant Frenchman, who had ventured fortune and

life to aid a nation struggling against great odds to be free. It was

not in his nature to have his deeds give the lie to his words. The fact

above mentioned at once overcame his reluctance to engage in the

controversy. Accordingly in December, 1831, appeared a "Letter to

General Lafayette," preceded by a letter from Lafayette to himself,

dated the 22d of November. This was a pamphlet of fifty pages, in which

he went into the subject of the cost of the United States government. It

produced an immediate reply from M. Saulnier, who went over the ground

again, and with a fine air of candor affected to revise his previous

statements. As a result he made the cost of the American government a

little larger than he had done before. To this Cooper replied in a series

of letters published in the "National." The controversy would (p. 113)

have ended sooner than it did, had it not been for the appearance

of a fresh actor on the scene. This was a certain Mr. Leavitt Harris. He

nominally belonged to New Jersey, but a large share of his life had been

spent in Russia, and his political notions had apparently become

acclimated to that region. He wrote an article on the subject in the

shape of a letter to M. Francois Delassert, the vice-president of the

Chamber of Deputies. In it he took ground opposite to that taken by

Cooper, controverted his facts, and denied his inferences. So great

weight was attached to it by the French government party that it was

published as a supplementary number of the "Revue Britannique." Mr.

Harris had once been left as _chargé d'affaires_ at St. Petersburg

during the absence of John Adams at the peace negotiations at Ghent. His

letter was accordingly dwelt upon as the production of an American who

had been intrusted by his government with high diplomatic position. We

who know out of what stuff our foreign agents are sometimes made, would

not be likely to attach much weight to the mere fact. But to a foreign

nation the opinion of an official seemed naturally more trustworthy than

that of a private citizen.

To the letter of Mr. Harris, Cooper replied on the 3d of May, 1832. This

closed the discussion, at least so far as he was concerned.[1] But the

controversy was followed by circumstances of a mortifying character. After

the return to America of the United States minister, William (p. 114)

C. Rives, Mr. Harris was nominated by the President, and confirmed by

the Senate early in March, 1833, as _chargé d'affaires_; and this office

he held until the arrival of Edward Livingston, who was appointed

minister on the 3d of May of the same year. Previously to this

discreditable act, the Department of State had committed one of

imbecility. It had issued a circular to the different local authorities

of the Union with avowed reference to the finance controversy. Its

purport was a request for them to furnish information in regard to the

amount of public expenditures over which they had control. Against this

course Cooper protested at once in a long and vigorous letter to the

American people, written on the 10th of December, 1832, from Vevay,

Switzerland, and first printed in the Philadelphia "National Gazette."

He took the ground that in such a discussion local burdens ought not to

be included. It was, in fact, by confusing various kinds of taxation,

and taxation for various objects, that the French government party had

been able to make any showing for their own side. The letter was widely

circulated, and seems to have served its purpose in suppressing the

information that had been asked.

[Footnote 1: I express no opinion on the merits of

this controversy, for I have seen very slight

summaries only of the articles that appeared in the

_Revue Britannique_. But it is proper to say that it

was the opinion of the French liberals, that Cooper

utterly demolished his antagonists in the

controversy.]

Unfortunately it was not the administration alone that displayed a lack

of proper sentiment in this controversy. It is far from being a

creditable thing in the history of the country that Cooper was subjected

to constant attack, and even abuse, in the American newspapers, for his

conduct in this finance discussion. He had been particularly careful to

confine his remarks to the cost of government in the United States. He

had not touched at all upon the cost of government in France. Yet he

was charged with having overstepped the reserve imposed upon (p. 115)

foreigners, and of having attacked the administration of a friendly

country. The accusation was constantly made against him that he went

about "flouting his Americanism throughout Europe," and in this

particular case that he had overrated the importance of the controversy,

and also the importance of the part he had taken in it. He had, in fact,

aroused the hostility of that section of Americans, insignificant in

number and ability, but sometimes having social position, who prefer the

conveniences of despotism to the inconveniences of liberty. To such men

Cooper's intense nationality was a standing reproach. His reputation,

moreover, made their own littleness especially conspicuous. Depreciation

of him, and of his rank as a man of letters, was a necessity of their

case. As they did not express openly their real feelings, they carried

on at advantage a war against a man who never had the prudence to hide

what he thought. Yet among the better class of Americans abroad,

Cooper's attachment to his native land received the recognition it

merited. "Cooper's new book, 'The Bravo,'" wrote Horatio Greenough, from

Paris, to Rembrandt Peale, in November, 1831, "is taking wonderfully

here. If you could transfuse a little of that man's love of country and

national pride into the leading members of our high society, I think it

would leaven them all."

But the attacks in the American newspapers made a painful impression

upon a mind that was morbidly sensitive to criticism even from the most

insignificant of men. For an act of generous patriotism for which he

deserved the thanks of all his countrymen he had received vilification

from many of them. These things embittered him. They made him

distrustful of the spirit that prevailed in his own land. He (p. 116)

began to fancy that the country had gone back instead of forward in

national feeling during the years of his absence. He had determined to

return, because he was unwilling to have his children brought up on

foreign soil and under foreign influences. But for himself he resolved

to abandon literature. As soon as he had finished the manuscript he had

in hand, he would give up all further thought of writing. "The quill and

I are divorced," he wrote to Greenough in June, 1833, "and you cannot

conceive the degree of freedom, I could almost say of happiness, I feel

at having got my neck out of the halter." Longings for his old sea-life

often came over him. "You must not be surprised," he wrote,

half-jestingly, to the same friend, "if you hear of my sailing a sloop

between Cape Cod and New York." But he had no definite plans marked out.

The only thing about which his mind was made up was not to write any

more.

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