James Fenimore Cooper | Page 4

was the first in Yale College that had ever tried it. This may
be questioned; but we need not feel any distrust of his declaration, that
little learning of any kind found its way into his head. Least of all will
he be inclined to doubt it whom extended experience in the class-room
has taught to view with profoundest respect the infinite capability of
the human mind to resist the introduction of knowledge.
Far better than study, Cooper liked to take solitary walks about (p. 008)
the wooded hills surrounding New Haven, and the shores of the bay
upon which it lies. These nursed the fondness for outdoor life and
scenery which his early associations had inspired. In these communings
with nature, he was unconsciously storing his mind with impressions
and images, in the representation and delineation of which he was
afterward to attain surpassing excellence. But the study of scenery,
however desirable in itself, cannot easily be included in a college
curriculum. No proficiency in it can well compensate for failure in
studies of perhaps less intrinsic importance. The neglect of these latter
had no tendency to recommend him to the regard of those in authority.
Positive faults were in course of time added to negative. A frolic in
which he was engaged during his third year was attended by
consequences more serious than disfavor. It led to his dismissal. The
father took the boy's side, and the usual struggle followed between the
parents and those who, according to a pretty well worn-out educational

theory, stand to the student in place of parents. In this particular case
the latter triumphed, and Cooper left Yale. In spite of his dismissal he
retained pleasant recollections of some of his old instructors; and with
one of them, Professor Silliman, he kept up in later years friendly
personal relations and occasional correspondence.
It had been a misfortune for the future author to lose the severe if
somewhat wooden drill of his preparatory instructor. It was an
additional misfortune to lose the education, scanty and defective as it
then was, which was imparted by the college. It might not and probably
would not have contributed anything to Cooper's intellectual
development in the way of accuracy of thought or of statement. It (p.
009) would not in all probability have added materially to his stock of
knowledge. But with all its inefficiency and inadequacy, it would very
certainly have had the effect of teaching him to aim far more than he
did at perfection of form. He possibly gained more than he lost by
being transferred at so early an age to other scenes. But the lack of
certain qualities in his writings, which educated men are perhaps the
only ones to notice, can be traced pretty directly to this lack of
preliminary intellectual drill.
His academical career having been thus suddenly cut short, he entered
in a little while upon one better suited to his adventurous nature. Boys
are sent to sea, he tells us in one of his later novels, for the cure of their
ethical ailings. This renovating influence of ocean life he had at any
rate a speedy opportunity to try. It was decided that he should enter the
navy. The position of his father, who had been for several years a
representative in Congress, and was a leading member of the Federalist
party, naturally held out assurances that the son would receive all the
advancement to which he would be legitimately entitled. At that time
no naval school existed. It was the custom, in consequence, for boys
purposing to fit themselves for the position of officers to serve a sort of
apprenticeship in the merchant marine. Accordingly in the autumn of
1806, Cooper was placed on board a vessel that was to sail from the
port of New York with a freight of flour to Cowes and a market. The
ship was named the Sterling, and was commanded by Captain John
Johnston, of Wiscasset, Maine, who was also part owner. Cooper's

position and prospects were well known; but he was employed
regularly before the mast and was never admitted to the cabin. The (p.
010) vessel cleared from the port of New York on the 16th of October.
The passage was a long and stormy one; forty days went by before land
was seen after it had once been left behind. The ship reached the other
side just at the time when the British Channel was alive with vessels of
war in consequence of one of the periodical anticipations of invasions
from France. It went to London, and stayed for some time there
discharging its cargo and taking in new. Cooper embraced the
opportunity to see all the sights he could of the great metropolis. "He
had a rum time of it