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James Fenimore Cooper
James Fenimore Cooper was a 19th-century American writer best known for his historical novels set on the American frontier. His most famous work, "The Last of the Mohicans," is part of the "Leatherstocking Tales" series, which follows the adventures of Natty Bumppo, a resourceful frontiersman. Cooper's writing significantly contributed to the development of American literature, highlighting themes of wilderness, native peoples, and the conflict between civilization and nature.
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It is a strong proof of the diffusive tendency of every thing in this country, that America never yet collected a fleet. Nothing is wanting to this display of power but the will. But a fleet requires only one commander, and a feeling is fast spreading in the country that we ought to be all commanders; unless the spirit of unconstitutional innovation, and usurpation, that is now so prevalent, at...
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Chapter I. --"But I'll not chide thee;Let shame come when it will, I do not call it;I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove;Mend when thou canst--" Lear. It is almost as impossible to describe minutely what occurred on the boat's reaching the Wallingford, as to describe all the terrific incidents of the struggle between Drewett and myself in...
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PREFACE. It may seem to be late in the day to give an account of the more ordinary characteristics of Europe. But the mass of all nations can form their opinions of others through the medium of testimony only; and as no two travellers see precisely the same things, or, when seen, view them with precisely the same eyes, this is a species of writing, after all, that is not likely to pall, or cease to be...
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W. C. Bryant's Discourse on the Life, Genius, and Writings of James Fenimore Cooper, Delivered at Metropolitan Hall, N.Y., February 25, 1852. It is now somewhat more than a year, since the friends of James Fenimore Cooper, in this city; were planning to give a public dinner to his honor. It was intended as an expression both of the regard they bore him personally, and of the pride they took in the...
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CHAPTER I. The turf shall be my fragrant shrine;My temple, Lord! that arch of thine;My censer's breath the mountain airs,And silent thoughts my only prayers.MOORE The sublimity connected with vastness is familiar to every eye. The most abstruse, the most far-reaching, perhaps the most chastened of the poet's thoughts, crowd on the imagination as he gazes into the depths of the illimitable...
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INTRODUCTION. It is not improbable that some of those who read this book, may feel a wish to know in what manner I became possessed of the manuscript. Such a desire is too just and natural to be thwarted, and the tale shall be told as briefly as possible. During the summer of 1828, while travelling among those valleys of Switzerland which lie between the two great ranges of the Alps, and in which both...
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CHAPTER I."Filled with the face of heaven, which from afarComes down upon the waters; all its hues,From the rich sunset to the rising star,Their magical variety diffuse:And now they change: a paler shadow strewsIts mantle o'er the mountains; parting dayDies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbuesWith a new color as it gasps away,The last still loveliest, till--'tis gone--and all is...
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PREFACE. This book closes the series of the Littlepage Manuscripts, which have been given to the world, as containing a fair account of the comparative sacrifices of time, money and labour, made respectively by the landlord and the tenants, on a New York estate; together with the manner in which usages and opinions are changing among us; as well as certain of the reasons of these changes. The...
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PREFACE. This work has already appeared in Graham's Magazine, under the title of "Rose Budd." The change of name is solely the act of the author, and arises from a conviction that the appellation given in this publication is more appropriate than the one laid aside. The necessity of writing to a name, instead of getting it from the incidents of the book itself, has been the cause of this...
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Chapter VI. O! It is great for our country to die, where ranks are contending;Bright is the wreath of our fame; Glory awaits us for aye--Glory, that never is dim, shining on with light never ending--Glory, that never shall fade, never, O! never away. Percival. Notwithstanding the startling intelligence that had so unexpectedly reached it, and the warm polemical conflict that had been carried on within...
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