has been from his day of national rather than sectional character."
As is obvious, I have just reread Mr. Brownell's "Cooper," with a note-book in hand; and I am astonished to discover how many points he has given me to reflect upon, how many paths he has suggested for excursions. I am grateful to him now for revealing the relation between prolixity and illusion; in a world where prolixity is a predominant quality, that revelation alone is worth an essay. I am tormented with a desire to reread not merely the Leatherstocking Tales, but also the Waverley Novels, and to compare my middle-aged with my juvenile impressions of Scott's men and Cooper's men. I should like to go thoroughly into that interesting matter of Cooper's early and long vogue in France and his influence upon Balzac. I wish a complete account of the Indian in American fiction and a similar survey of American tales of the sea. I have a lively desire to investigate the origin and development of the anti-New England conscience before 1850. But—to make a conclusion rather than an end to the desires wakened by Mr. Brownell's method of dealing with American classics, I have never read in this book without saying to myself rather sternly: "It is high time that young Americans should begin the serious study of their own literature; and here is a guide who shows us how the task should be undertaken."
Since the English language became for the ma-
