notwithstanding the positive proofs of his American nativity. In the decade following the adoption of his mother's surname the controversies gathered force that affected the closing years of his life, and even survived him. He was one of the first Americans that, from personal association, reached a point whence he could look without bias upon the somewhat crude social development of his native country. Naturally of a headstrong and combative disposition, he had not the address to temper his utterances so as to avoid giving offence in an age when the popular sense smarted under what Mr. Lowell, even in our own time, has termed “a certain condescension in foreigners.” All his patriotic championship of the young republic in foreign lands counted for naught in the light of the criticisms pronounced at home. His self-assertive manner made him enemies among men who could not understand that he was merely in earnest, and even Bryant owned to having been at first somewhat startled by an “emphatic frankness,” which he afterward learned to estimate at its true value. A thorough democrat in his convictions, Cooper was still an aristocrat, and he often gave expression to views under different conditions that seemed alike contradictory and offensive. His love of country, however, was one of the most pronounced traits of his nature, and his faith in what is known as the “manifest destiny” of the republic was among the firmest of his convictions. This faith remained through the troublous days of “nullification,” and through the early controversies concerning the abolition of slavery. Abroad he was the champion of free institutions, and had his triumphs in foreign capitals. At home he was looked upon as an enemy of all that the fathers of the republic had fought for. An English writer in Colburn's “New Monthly Magazine” (1831) said of his personal bearing: “Yet he seems to claim little consideration on the score of intellectual greatness; he is evidently prouder of his birth than of his genius, and looks, speaks, and walks as if he exulted more in being recognized as an American citizen than as the author of 'The Pilot' and 'The Prairie.'” This proud Americanism did not, however, after the first years of his celebrity, injure his standing in England. During his repeated and often protracted visits to England, his society was sought by the most distinguished men of the time, although it is said that he never presented letters of introduction. He very soon convinced those with whom he associated that, though an American, he was not an easy person to patronize. On the continent he was unwillingly led into a controversy to which he ascribed much of the unpopularity that he afterward incurred in the United States. A debate had arisen in the French chamber of deputies in which Lafayette referred to the government of the United States as a model of economy and efficiency. Articles soon appeared in the papers disputing the accuracy of the figures, and arguing that the limited monarchy was the cheapest and best form of government. Cooper, after holding aloof for a time from the discussion, published a pamphlet prefaced by a letter from Lafayette to himself, in which he reviewed the whole subject of government expenditure in the United States. This provoked answers and contradictory statements, some of which had a semi-official origin in the U. S. legation at St. Petersburg. One immediate outcome of the affair was a circular from the department of state calling for information regarding local expenditures. Against this Cooper protested in a long letter, which was published in the “National Gazette,” of Philadelphia. The letters on the finance discussion aroused what now seems an altogether inexplicable bitterness against their author. The attacks upon him in the newspapers were excessively annoying to a proud and sensitive nature, and when he returned in 1833 it was with a determination to abandon literature, and a distrust of public opinion under the American republic. He resolved to reopen his ancestral mansion at Cooperstown, now long closed and falling into decay, and visited the place in June, 1834, after an absence of nearly sixteen years. Repairs were at once begun, and the house was speedily put in order. At first the winters were spent in New York and the summers in Cooperstown; but eventually he made the latter place his permanent abode. He was no longer in sympathy with the restless spirit of progress that had exterminated the Indian and was levelling the forests of the United States. The Mohawk valley, once traversed only by a rude bridle-path, now afforded passage for an endless procession of canal-boats from the ocean to the inland seas; railroads were building, and the whole motive of existence was feverish anxiety for gain. The associations of his boyhood home soon revived the instinct for literary work, and he resumed his pen. But in the
mean time he did not hesitate to express, his conviction that the morals and manners of the country were decidedly worse than they had been twenty years before, and the utterances of so famous a man soon became public property. A contemporary journal said of him, in 1841: “He has disparaged American lakes, ridiculed American scenery, burlesqued American coin, and even satirized the American flag!” Cooper had apparently believed that his amicably intended criticism of American manners and customs would be received with some deference, if not with a moderate degree of gratitude, and vituperation of this character astonished him. During the years that followed, the breach steadily widened between Cooper and his countrymen, and even his fellow-townsmen. In 1837 the local quarrel culminated in what was known as “the three-mile-point controversy.” This point was a part of the Cooper estate, and, owing to the good nature of the heirs, had been used as a public resort until the townspeople had come to believe that it was actually their own. When Cooper returned to his home he endeavored, in an informal way, to uproot this idea of public ownership. Each repetition of his purpose was resented, and at last a popular outcry was raised against the arrogant claims of “one J. Fenimore Cooper.” A mass-meeting was called, and fiery resolutions were passed; but there was not a shadow of lawful right on the popular side, and, as soon as measures were taken to protect the property against trespassers, the claim of the town had
