France (1837) was the third volume published in Cooper's Gleanings in Europe series, but first in the chronology of his European experience. Less sequential than his other travel narratives, France distills his impressions of French and European culture during his first two years abroad. Exhibiting many qualities of the familiar essay, it considers a wide range of topics of interest to Cooper, his friends, and potential readers in the United States. As a celebrity thoroughly at home in the brilliant society of Bourbon Paris, Cooper was able to provide fascinating glimpses of personalities, spectacles, institutions, and manners--from his distinctly American perspective. Indeed, as Professor Philbrick remarks, "No other of Cooper's works, perhaps, brings us closer to his speaking voice or puts us more directly in contact with the man himself, with all his idiosyncratic preoccupations, his quick resentments, his restless curiosity, his surprising humor, and his nobility of principle." The reader of this edition is brought even closer to Cooper in the draft of a hitherto unpublished letter, probably intended for this book, which illustrates Cooper's grasp of the still finer points of French customs and attitudes.

In the summer of 1828 James Fenimore Cooper, his wife, and their five children set out from Paris for Switzerland, and Cooper wrote that he experienced a "glorious anticipation," for "a common-place converse with men was about to give place to a sublime communion with Nature." Sketches of Switzerland, the book which describes this experience and which is republished here for the first time in the United States since its original issue in 1836, was the first of five European travel books written, Cooper said, "for my own Countrymen," in which the American novelist gave "rapid sketches" of what he saw "with American eyes," studiously avoiding the drab, factual accounts of ordinary tourists. His indispensable resources in the composition of Switzerland were his gifts of total recall and his skill in writing prose pictures in the style then known as "picturesque." Seeking an immediacy analogous to that of the artist's brush, Cooper captures various elements of "picturesque" style, especially the incongruity between the sublime, terrifying scenery and the more familiar sights and associations of domestic life. Even in the creation of verbal pictures, Cooper could not resist expressing his concerns with society and politics; and though his criticism seems harmless enough today—perhaps even salutary—it was disturbing to American readers less secure than Cooper in their confidence in their institutions and society. Partly, at least, for this reason, Cooper's most successful nonfictional experiment in the "picturesque" mode has never been adequately appreciated.