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.

CHAPTER VII. (p. 117)

1833-1838.

On the fifth of November, 1833, Cooper landed at New York. For a few
winters that followed he made that city his place of residence. The
sum