_The Ways of the Hour_ appeared in 1850. At this time his personal
appearance was remarkable. He seemed in perfect health, and in the highest
energy and activity of his faculties. I have scarcely seen any man at that
period of life on whom his years sat more lightly. His conversation had
lost none of its liveliness, though it seemed somewhat more genial and
forbearing in tone, and his spirits none of their elasticity. He was
contemplating, I have since been told, another Leatherstocking tale,
deeming that he had not yet exhausted the character; and those who
consider what new resources it yielded him in the _Pathfinder_ and the
_Deerslayer_, will readily conclude that he was not mistaken.

The disease, however, by which he was removed, was even then impending
over him, and not long afterwards his friends here were grieved to learn
that his health was declining. He came to New York so changed that they
looked at him with sorrow, and after a stay of some weeks, partly for the
benefits of medical advice returned to Cooperstown, to leave it no more.
His complaint gradually gained strength, subdued a constitution originally
robust, and finally passed into a confirmed dropsy. In August, 1851, he
was visited by his excellent and learned friend, Dr. Francis, a member of
the weekly club which he had founded in the early part of his literary
career. He found him bearing the sufferings of his disease with manly
firmness, gave him such medical counsels as the malady appeared to
require, prepared him delicately for its fatal termination, and returned
to New York with the most melancholy anticipations. In a few days
afterwards, Cooper expired, amid the deep affliction of his family, on the
14th of September, the day before that on which he should have completed
his sixty-second year. He died, apparently without pain, in peace and
religious hope. The relations of man to his Maker, and to that state of
being for which the present is but a preparation, had occupied much of his
thoughts during his whole lifetime, and he crossed, with a serene