any view to publication, and which he
afterward learned to think and to speak of slightingly. Still, though,
compared with many of his writings, "Precaution" is a novel of little
worth, it is, in some respects, a better guide to the knowledge of the
man than his better productions. The latter give evidence of his
powers; in this are shown certain limitations of his nature and
beliefs. Peculiarities, both of thought and feeling, which in his
other writings are merely suggested, are here clearly revealed. Some
of them will appear strange to those whose conception of his character
is derived from facts connected with his later life, or whose
acquaintance with his works is limited to those most celebrated.

Cooper was, by nature, a man of deep religious feeling. This disposition
had been strengthened by his training. But there is something more
than deep religious feeling exhibited in his first novel. There runs
through it a vein of pietistic narrowness, which seems particularly
unsuited to the man whom popular imagination, investing him somewhat
with the characteristics of his own creations, has depicted as a
ranger of the forests and a rover of the seas. Yet the existence of
this vein is plainly apparent, though all his surroundings would (p. 023)
seem to have been unfavorable to its birth and development. He shared,
to its fullest extent, in the jealousy which at that time, far more
than now, prevailed between the Middle States and New England. He was
strongly attached to the Episcopal Church, and he had, or fancied he
had, a keen dislike to the Puritans and their manners and creeds. To
these "religionists," as he was wont to call them, he attributed a
great deal that was ungraceful in American life, and a good deal that
was disgraceful. But the Puritan element is an irrepressible and
undying one in English character. It can be found centuries before it
became the designation of a religious body. It can be traced, under
various and varying appellations, through every period of English
history. It is not the name of a sect, it is not the mark of a creed;
it is the characteristic of a race. It is, therefore, never long put
under ban before it comes back, and takes its turn in ruling manners
and society. The revolt against it in the eighteenth century had
stripped from religion everything in the shape of sentiment, and left
it merely a business. The reaction which brought the Puritan element
again to the front was so intens