s the exponent of a distinctly
unfriendly feeling. Among individuals a conspicuous representative of
this hostility was the poet Percival. He could not endure the reputation
which the novelist had acquired. Percival was a man of a good deal of
ability, of a great deal of knowledge, and of an inexhaustible (p. 061)
capacity of spinning out verse, never rising much above, nor falling
much below mediocrity, which, if mere quantity were the only element
to be considered, would have justified him in contracting to produce
enough to constitute of itself a national literature. As he invariably
proved himself entirely destitute of common sense in his ordinary
conduct, he was led to fancy that he was not merely a man of ability,
but a man of genius; and during the whole of his life he perpetually
posed as that most intolerable of literary nuisances, a man of
unappreciated genius. In spite of the fact that he had been hospitably
entertained and befriended by Cooper, he could not be satisfied, because
their common publisher looked upon the latter as the "greatest literary
genius in America." The reception given by the public to the "long, dirty,
straggling tales" of the novelist disgusted him. "I ask nothing," he wrote
in April, 1823, "of a people who will lavish their patronage on such a
vulgar book as "The Pioneers." They and I are well quit. They neglect me,
and I despise them." In a later letter he returned to this work. "It might
do," he said, "to amuse the select society of a barber's shop or a
porter-house. But to have the author step forward on such stilts and claim
to be the lion of our national literature, and fall to roaring himself and
set all his jackals howling (S. C. & Co.) to put better folks out of
countenance--why 'tis pitiful, 'tis wondrous pitiful at least for the
country that not only suffers it but encourages it." Percival, indeed, his
biographer tells us, was subsequently urged to contribute to "The North
American Review" a critical article on "The Prairie," in which simple
justice was to be done to Cooper--which phrase had, of course, its (p. 062)
usual meaning, that injustice was to be done him. The poet's customary
indecision prevailed, however; the country was spared this exhibition
of spiteful incapacity, and the novelist was left to stumble along in
uncertainty as to his precise position among men of letters.

Not but there were plenty of men anxious to show it. Especially was this
true of that clas