James Fenimore Cooper

                                The Pioneers or

                         The Sources of the Susquehanna

                               A Descriptive Tale

 »Extremes of habits, manners, time and space,
 Brought close together, here stood face to face,
 And gave at once a contrast to the view,
 That other lands and ages never knew.«
                                          Paulding, The Backwoodsman, II, 571-4.
 
                                       To
                               Jacob Sutherland,
                            of Blenheim, Schoharie,
                                    Esquire.
 
The length of our friendship would be a sufficient reason for prefixing your
name to these pages; but your residence so near the scene of the tale, and your
familiarity with much of the character and kind of life that I have attempted to
describe, render it more peculiarly proper. You, at least, dear Sutherland, will
not receive this dedication as a cold compliment, but as an evidence of the
feeling that makes me,
War mly and truly,
Your friend,
-- --.
 

                                    Preface

                       To Mr. Charles Wiley, Bookseller.
 
Every man is, more or less, the sport of accident; nor do I know that authors
are at all exempted from this humiliating influence. This is the third of my
novels, and it depends on two very uncertain contingencies, whether it will not
be the last; - the one being the public opinion, and the other mine own humour.
The first book was written, because I was told that I could not write a grave
tale; so, to prove that the world did not know me, I wrote one that was so grave
nobody would read it; wherein I think that I had much the best of the argument.
The second was written to see if I could not overcome this neglect of the
reading world. How far I have succeeded, Mr. Charles Wiley, must ever remain a
secret between ourselves. The third has been written, exclusively, to please
myself; so it would be no wonder if it displeased every body else; for what two
ever thought alike, on a subject of the imagination!
    I should think criticism to be the perfection of human acquirements, did
there not exist this discrepancy in taste. Just as I have made up my mind to
adopt the very sagacious hints of one learned Reviewer, a pamphlet is put into
my hands, containing the remarks of another, who condemns all that his rival
praises, and praises all that his rival condemns. There I am, left like an ass
between two locks of hay; so that I have determined to relinquish my animate
nature, and remain stationary, like a lock of hay between two asses.
    It is now a long time, say the wise ones