ter extraordinary for a work of
fiction. Part of it is little else than a controversial tract on the
superiority of Episcopacy; and the temper in which it is written could
hardly have been grateful to any but an opponent of that church.
"Satanstoe" is full of many of Cooper's likes and dislikes, but there
can be no greater contrast conceived than between the tone which
pervades that delightful creation, and the boisterous brawling of "The
Redskins".

With the publication of this series Cooper's career as a creator of
works of imagination practically closed. He wrote several novels
afterward, but not one of them did anything to advance his reputation.
Some of them tended to lower it. This was not due to failure of power,
but to its misdirection. The didactic element in his nature had now
gained complete mastery over the artistic. The interest, such as it is,
which belongs to his later stories, is rarely a literary interest. Not
one of them has the slightest pretension to be termed a work of art.
There are, at times, passages in them that thrill us, and scenes that
display something of his old skill in description. But these are
recollections rather than new creations. Cooper's fame would not have
been a whit lessened, if every line he wrote after "The Chainbearer" had
never seen the light.

The works that came out during the remaining years of his life (p. 255)
were "The Crater," published October 12, 1847; "Jack Tier," published
March 21, 1848; "The Oak Openings," published August 24 of the same
year; "The Sea Lions," published April 10, 1849, and "The Ways of the
Hour," published April 10, 1850. Of these "Jack Tier" originally made
its appearance in "Graham's Magazine" during the years 1845-1847, under
the title of "The Islets of the Gulf," and strictly stands first in the
order of time. It shares with "The Crater" the distinction of being one
of the two best of these later stories. It may be fair to mention that
Bryant saw in it as much spirit, energy, invention, and life-like
presentation of objects and events as in anything the author ever wrote.
This will seem exaggerated praise when one reads it in connection with
"The Red Rover," of which it is in some respects a feeble reflection. It
was hard for Cooper to be uninteresting when once fairly launched upon
the waves. Without denying the existence in "Jack Tier" of passages of
marked power, no small share of it was merely a reproduction of what had
been done a