[Illustration:  QUEEN MARIE AMELIE.]

December 8, 1830 the Americans in Paris gave General Lafayette a dinner over which Cooper presided.  And, says Professor Lounsbury, “in a speech of marked fervor and ability, he had dwelt upon the debt due from the United States to the gallant Frenchman, who had ventured fortune and life to aid a nation struggling against great odds to be free.”  As “It was not in his [Cooper’s] nature to have his deeds give lie to his words,” he was fairly caught in a public controversy that brought upon him the following unpleasant results.

During this period a public dispute arose on the comparative expenses of American and French government, which Lafayette was called upon to settle, and he appealed to Cooper as an American authority.  In his spirited defense of the gallant Marquis, our author was caught in a maelstrom of harsh criticism.  It ended in his victory abroad, but brought upon him uncalled-for comment from the American press for “attacking the authorities of a friendly country”—­as that press unjustly termed it.

At Paris in 1831, by the request of an English friend, Cooper wrote of “The Great Eclipse” which he saw June 16, 1806, at his Cooperstown home.  This account was found after his death and appeared in Putnam’s Magazine of 1869.  It included a thrilling tragedy and closed as follows:  “I have passed a varied and eventful life—­but never have I beheld any spectacle which so plainly manifested the majesty of the Creator, or so forcibly taught the lesson of humility to man as the total eclipse of the sun.”

From Paris, in 1832, Cooper wrote:  “I care nothing for criticism, but I am not indifferent to slander.  If these attacks on my character should be kept up five years after my return to America, I shall resort to the New York courts for protection.”  Cooper gave the press the full period, then, said Bryant,—­himself an editor,—­“he put a hook in the nose of this huge monster of the inky pool, dragged him to land, and made him tractable.”  After these five years had passed Cooper noted, February, 1843:  “I have, beaten every man I have sued who has not retracted his libels.”

[Illustration:  N.P.  WILLIS.]

In Paris, in 1832, our author was meeting many foreigners of note, and among the Americans was N.P.  Willis, then sketching his “Pencillings by the Way,” and breakfasting with Cooper, and strolling with him through the Tuileries gardens.

[Illustration:  S.F.B.  MORSE.]

Samuel F.B.  Morse, who was later to chain electricity for future use, was then a young artist painting in the Louvre, and helping Cooper to buy pictures.  Of one purchase is noted:  “Shortly after the revolution of 1830, passing through the Carousel, he bought a portrait, covered with dust but of apparent rare beauty, from a dealer in antiques, who said it was a Teniers.  This painting was shown to Morse and to Archbishop Luscomb of Paris, also an art critic of his day, both of whom verified the dealer’s statement.  Catalogues and prints of originals of Tenier’s wife later proved the picture to be her portrait painted round in form by that artist and afterwards cut to the square.”