unsatisfactory, as he 'sallied forth, after no very great interval, with an air quite desolate and chop-fallen.' As he pursued his way homeward, 'all the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoon came crowding upon his recollection. When he approached the haunted bridge, he was fully prepared to see the phantom of which his rival had given such a graphic account, and, lo! 'in the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black, and towering.' Ichabod quickened his steed, and a lively chase of ghost after schoolmaster ensued. When he reached the vanishing-place of which his rival had told, he ventured to cast a look behind. 'Just then he saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at him. Ichabod endeavoured to dodge the horrible missile, but too late! It encountered his cranium with a tremendous crash-he was tumbled headlong into the dust, and Gunpowder, the black steed, and the goblin rider, passed by like a whirlwind. The next morning, the old horse was found without his saddle, and with the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master's gate. Ichabod did not make his appearance at breakfast-dinner-hour came, but no Ichabod. The boys assembled at the school-house, and strolled idly about the banks of the brook; but no schoolmaster. Hans Van Ripper now began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of poor Ichabod and his saddle. An inquiry was set on foot, and after diligent investigation, they came upon his traces. In one part of the road leading to the church, was found the saddle trampled in the dirt; the tracks of horses' hoofs deeply dented in the road, and evidently at furious speed, were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a shattered pumpkin. The brook was searched, but the body of the schoolmaster was not to be discovered. Hans Van Ripper, as executor of his estate, examined the bundle which contained all his worldly effects. They consisted of two shirts and a half, two stocks for the neck, a pair or two of worsted stockings, an old pair of corduroy small-clothes, a rusty razor, a book of psalm-tunes, full of dog's ears, and a broken pitch-pipe..... Brom Bones, who shortly after his rival's disappearance conducted the blooming Katrina in triumph to the altar, was observed to look exceedingly knowing whenever the story of Ichabod was related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the mention of the pumpkin; which led some to suspect that he knew more about the matter than he chose to tell. The old country wives, however, who are the best judges of these matters, maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away by supernatural means; and it is a favourite story often told about the neighbourhood round the winter-evening fire. The bridge became more than ever an object of superstitious awe, and that may be the reason why the road has been altered of late years, so as to approach the church by the border of the millpond. The school-house being deserted, soon fell to decay, and was reported to be haunted by the ghost of the unfortunate pedagogue; and the plough-boy, loitering homeward of a still summer evening, has often fancied his voice at a distance, chanting a melancholy psalm-tune among the tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow.' JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. "No American writer has been so extensively read as JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. His novels have been translated in nearly every European tongue. . . . We have seen some of them, well thumbed and worn, at a little village in a remote mountainous district of Sicily; and in Naples and Milan, the bookstalls bear witness that L'Ultimo dei Mohecanni [The Last of the Mohicans] is still a popular work. In England, these American novels have been eagerly read and transformed into popular dramas; while cheap and often stupidly mutilated editions of them have been circulated through all her colonies, garrisons, and naval stations, from New Zealand to Canada.'1 The review from which the above paragraph is quoted, also states that, 'of all American writers, Cooper is the most original, the most thoroughly national.' These opinions, given in a review of Cooper's collected novels, are sufficient to shew that, whatever our own opinion of his merits may be, his name deserves a prominent place in this account of American literature. He was born at Burlington, New Jersey, in 1789. His course of studies in Yale College ended in 1805, when he entered the navy. After six years of service, he retired to private life, and resided at Cooperstown, on the border of Otsego Lake, in the midst of the scenes described in one of his fictions. Soon afterwards, he published his first novel, Precaution, which American reviewers absurdly described as a work displaying a considerable knowledge of English society.' It was followed by a better fiction, The Spy, which was very successful, though 1 North American Review, No. 154, Art. VI. it was unfavourably reviewed in America. In 1823 appeared The Pioneers, which may be noticed hereafter as one of a series of tales. The Pilot, commonly regarded as the best of the seastories, followed, but gained no high reputation until the praise of English critics found echoes in America. In this novel, the fate of a vessel, the Ariel-which might almost be described as the heroine-is narrated with a singular force and truthfulness; and Long Tom Coffin is one of the best characters portrayed by the author. Lionel Lincoln, the next publication, has been regarded as a failure. It was followed (1826) by The Last of the Mohicans, one of the most widely circulated of modern fictions. The Prairie, The Red Rover, The Wept of Wish-ton- Wish, and The Water-witch, followed too rapidly—all bearing marks of hasty execution. Meanwhile the author had visited Europe, and had published his Notions of the Americans, a vindication of the institutions and manners of his own country. In his next work of fiction, The Bravo, he left the lakes and forests of the West, and selected foreign scenes and characters. It was followed by The Heidenmauer, The Headsman of Berne, and a very dull, satirical novel, The Monikins. Cooper next published his Gleanings in Europe, consisting of ten volumes of sketches, and criticisms of scenes, society, and manners in the Old World. In his American Democrat (1835), he appeared as a didactic writer, and described the virtues and failings of his countrymen. In 1839, the History of the Navy of the United States was published. Of several novels intended to castigate the errors of American society, it would be useless to mention even the titles, for they are commonly regarded as very dull productions. Homeward Bound and The Two Admirals belong to the series of romances of naval life. The Deerslayer and The Pathfinder may be described in our notice of the series to which they belong. It is said that the writer regarded these two as his best fictions. Mercedes of Castile, Wing-and-Wing, Wyandotte, and Ashore and Afloat, displayed the author's power of diffusing a few ideas over a vast surface of paper; though they contained many passages of lively description. Altogether, in the course of thirty years, or little more, Cooper published about the same number of novels and romances, besides many volumes of history and travels. Thus every year produced, on an average, its two or three volumes. Shortly before his decease (1851), he was engaged in preparing a work, under the title, The Middle States of America; their Origins, Customs, Conditions, and Prospects. With regard to his apparent productiveness, Cooper may be classed with the modern novelists who have written as if they expected that their works would be estimated according to their bulk. The number of the distinct characters portrayed in the whole series of his novels, bears a very small proportion to the number of pages, or, we might say, volumes. This seems to be commonly admitted; yet an American writer1 has hazarded the assertion, that 'very few authors have added more than one original and striking character to the world of imagination ; none has added more than Cooper; and his are all as distinct and actual as the personages that stalk before us on the stage of history.' It is fair to state that this assertion appears almost as singular in America as in England. The comparison of Cooper with Scott is a mere absurdity. Another American reviewer has said, that Cooper never invented more than 'two probable and interesting characters -Long Tom Coffin and the Leather-stocking;' and that 'the latter of these, as if to shew how much the writer was delighted with his success, was made to figure in about six different novels.' 2 This series of tales-in which the adventures of a simple hunter are described-is commonly regarded as the best; and the tales intended to have a satirical purport may be described as the worst of Cooper's fictions. The excessive dulness of the latter is explained by the fact, that the writer made them vehicles of controversy with certain neighbours and with newspaper-editors. In the better works of Cooper-such as have their scenes in the forest, or on the sea-the plot is often grossly improbable; the conversations and the speeches of Red Indians are unreal and tedious; and the female characters are, with few exceptions, failures or nonentities. This last feature accounts for the little favour which these tales have found among female readers. They have been read chiefly by youths who love stories of adventure, narrow escapes, skirmishes with Indians, and ambuscades. These features are so often repeated, that in The Last of the Mohicans, and other stories, the reader becomes almost careless about heroes and heroines, knowing that, though surrounded by levelled rifles, they will be sure to make their escape. Critics who ought to have good information on the subject, have said that the characters of Cooper's Red Indians are mostly imaginary, and that their propensity to speech-making is caricatured. The chief merits of Cooper's tales consist in their descriptions of scenery, and adventures in the forest and on the sea. In their sketches of the lakes and forests of the West, a genuine love of nature, and a tone of feeling, such as is commonly but vaguely styled poetical, redeem passages of great prolixity. A fact may 1 Griswold's Prose-writers of America, Fourth Edition. J indicate at once the merits and the defects of such tales as the Leather-stocking series. The reader of ripe years, who, for the first time, peruses The Pathfinder or The Pioneers, may very probably be offended by long conversations and other wordy passages, or by some awkward attempts in humorous writing, and may impatiently lay down the half-read book; but the man who, in his boyhood or youth, followed the career of Hawk-eye, retains memories so strong of lonely lakes and forests, beleaguered travellers, Indian scalping-parties, and thrilling adventureslike that of the battle at Glenn's Falls-that he is tempted to renew his acquaintance with Cooper's tales. Apart from distinct description, there is in these fictions the pervading influence of solitary forest-life. We might even say that, as Wordsworth's poems rather breathe the spirit than describe the exact features of our English Lake district, so Cooper's best tales have the spirit of the sombre, or tranquil, or majestic scenes in which their adventures take place. So far as they have any moral tone, it is pure and elevated; and the portraiture of that simple and manly pioneer the Pathfinder, reflects great credit on the author. this is certainly the most successful of Cooper's creations, some account of the series of tales to which it belongs may be given here. As The first of the series is The Deerslayer. Its scenery is on and around Lake Otsego, in the district of New York; which, at the time of the story, was mostly 'a virgin wilderness'—' one vast expanse of woods, relieved by a comparatively narrow fringe of cultivation along the sea, dotted by the glittering surfaces of lakes, and intersected by the waving lines of rivers.' The scene of adventures is thus more fully described :—‘On all sides, wherever the eye turned, nothing met it but the mirror-like surface of the lake, the placid view of heaven, and the dense setting of woods. So rich and fleecy were the outlines of the forest, that scarce an opening could be seen; the whole visible earth, from the rounded mountain-top to the water's edge, presenting one unvaried line of unbroken verdure. As if vegetation were not satisfied with a triumph so complete, the trees overhung the lake itself, shooting out towards the light; and there were miles along its eastern shore, where a boat might have pulled beneath the branches of dark Rembrandt-looking hemlocks, "quivering aspens," and melancholy pines. In a word, the hand of man had never yet defaced or deformed any part of this native scene, which lay bathed in the sunlight, a glorious picture of affluent forest-grandeur, softened by the balminess of June, and relieved by the beautiful variety afforded by the presence of so broad an expanse of water.' |