the complete writings-3-第13章

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　way；　that；　if　they　had　been　published　properly　in　print；　a　proper　reader　would　have　reproduced　them　again　the　same　way。　　In　the　midst　of　those　remarks　Mr。　Greeley　took　up　a　paper；　to　reproduce　by　reading　part　of　a　speech　that　some　one　else　had　made；　and　his　reading　did　not　sound　much　more　like　the　man　that　first　read　or　made　the　speech　than　the　clatter　of　a　nail　factory　sounds　like　a　well…　delivered　speech。　　Now；　the　fault　was　not　because　Mr。　Greeley　did　not　know　how　to　read　as　well　as　almost　any　man　that　ever　lived；　if　not　quite：　but　in　his　youth　he　learned　to　read　wrong；　and；　as　it　is　ten　times　harder　to　unlearn　anything　than　it　is　to　learn　it；　he；　like　thousands　of　others；　could　never　stop　to　unlearn　it；　but　carried　it　on　through　his　whole　life。〃

Whether　a　reader　would　be　thanked　for　reproducing　one　of　Horace　Greeley's　lectures　as　he　delivered　it　is　a　question　that　cannot　detain　us　here；　but　the　teaching　that　he　ought　to　do　so；　I　think；　would　please　Mr。　Greeley。

The　first　driblets　of　professional　tourists　and　summer　boarders　who　arrived　among　the　Adirondack　Mountains　a　few　years　ago　found　Old　Phelps　the　chief　and　best　guide　of　the　region。　　Those　who　were　eager　to　throw　off　the　usages　of　civilization；　and　tramp　and　camp　in　the　wilderness；　could　not　but　be　well　satisfied　with　the　aboriginal　appearance　of　this　guide；　and　when　he　led　off　into　the　woods；　axe　in　hand；　and　a　huge　canvas　sack　upon　his　shoulders；　they　seemed　to　be　following　the　Wandering　Jew。　　The　contentsof　this　sack　would　have　furnished　a　modern　industrial　exhibition；　provisions　cooked　and　raw；　blankets；　maple…sugar；　tinware；　clothing；　pork；　Indian　meal；　flour；　coffee；　tea；　&c。　　Phelps　was　the　ideal　guide：　he　knew　every　foot　of　the　pathless　forest；　he　knew　all　woodcraft；　all　the　signs　of　the　weather；　or；　what　is　the　same　thing；　how　to　make　a　Delphic　prediction　about　it。　　He　was　fisherman　and　hunter；　and　had　been　the　comrade　of　sportsmen　and　explorers；　and　his　enthusiasm　for　the　beauty　and　sublimity　of　the　region；　and　for　its　untamable　wildness；　amounted　to　a　passion。　　He　loved　his　profession；　and　yet　it　very　soon　appeared　that　he　exercised　it　with　reluctance　for　those　who　had　neither　ideality；　nor　love　for　the　woods。　　Their　presence　was　a　profanation　amid　the　scenery　he　loved。　　To　guide　into　his　private　and　secret　haunts　a　party　that　had　no　appreciation　of　their　loveliness　disgusted　him。　　It　was　a　waste　of　his　time　to　conduct　flippant　young　men　and　giddy　girls　who　made　a　noisy　and　irreverent　lark　of　the　expedition。　And；　for　their　part；　they　did　not　appreciate　the　benefit　of　being　accompanied　by　a　poet　and　a　philosopher。　　They　neither　understood　nor　valued　his　special　knowledge　and　his　shrewd　observations：　they　didn't　even　like　his　shrill　voice；　his　quaint　talk　bored　them。　　It　was　true　that；　at　this　period；　Phelps　had　lost　something　of　the　activity　of　his　youth；　and　the　habit　of　contemplative　sitting　on　a　log　and　talking　increased　with　the　infirmities　induced　by　the　hard　life　of　the　woodsman。　　Perhaps　he　would　rather　talk；　either　about　the　woods…　life　or　the　various　problems　of　existence；　than　cut　wood；　or　busy　himself　in　the　drudgery　of　the　camp。　　His　critics　went　so　far　as　to　say；〃Old　Phelps　is　a　fraud。〃　　They　would　have　said　the　same　of　Socrates。　　Xantippe；　who　never　appreciated　the　world　in　which　Socrates　lived；　thought　he　was　lazy。　　Probably　Socrates　could　cook　no　better　than　Old　Phelps；　and　no　doubt　went　〃gumming〃　about　Athens　with　very　little　care　of　what　was　in　the　pot　for　dinner。

If　the　summer　visitors　measured　Old　Phelps；　he　also　measured　them　by　his　own　standards。　　He　used　to　write　out　what　he　called　〃short…faced　descriptions〃　of　his　comrades　in　the　woods；　which　were　never　so　flattering　as　true。　　It　was　curious　to　see　how　the　various　qualities　which　are　esteemed　in　society　appeared　in　his　eyes；　looked　at　merely　in　their　relation　to　the　limited　world　he　knew；　and　judged　by　their　adaptation　to　the　primitive　life。　　It　was　a　much　subtler　comparison　than　that　of　the　ordinary　guide；　who　rates　his　traveler　by　his　ability　to　endure　on　a　march；　to　carry　a　pack；　use　an　oar；　hit　a　mark；　or　sing　a　song。　　Phelps　brought　his　people　to　a　test　of　their　naturalness　and　sincerity；　tried　by　contact　with　the　verities　of　the　woods。　　If　a　person　failed　to　appreciate　the　woods；　Phelps　had　no　opinion　of　him　or　his　culture；　and　yet；　although　he　was　perfectly　satisfied　with　his　own　philosophy　of　life；　worked　out　by　close　observation　of　nature　and　study　of　the　Tri…bune；　he　was　always　eager　for　converse　with　superior　minds；　with　those　who　had　the　advantage　of　travel　and　much　reading；　and；　above　all；　with　those　who　had　any　original　〃speckerlation。〃　　Of　all　the　society　he　was　ever　permitted　to　enjoy；　I　think　he　prized　most　that　of　Dr。　Bushnell。　　The　doctor　enjoyed　the　quaint　and　first…hand　observations　of　the　old　woodsman；　and　Phelps　found　new　worlds　open　to　him　in　the　wide　ranges　of　the　doctor's　mind。　　They　talked　by　the　hour　upon　all　sorts　of　themes；　the　growth　of　the　tree；　the　habits　of　wild　animals；　the　migration　of　seeds；　the　succession　of　oak　and　pine；　not　to　mention　theology；　and　the　mysteries　of　the　supernatural。

I　recall　the　bearing　of　Old　Phelps；　when；　several　years　ago；　he　conducted　a　party　to　the　summit　of　Mount　Marcy　by　the　way　he　had　〃bushed　out。〃　　This　was　his　mountain；　and　he　had　a　peculiar　sense　of　ownership　in　it。　　In　a　way；　it　was　holy　ground；　and　he　would　rather　no　one　should　go　on　it　who　did　not　feel　its　sanctity。　　Perhaps　it　was　a　sense　of　some　divine　relation　in　it　that　made　him　always　speak　of　it　as　〃Mercy。〃　　To　him　this　ridiculously　dubbed　Mount　Marcy　was　always　〃Mount　Mercy。〃　　By　a　like　effort　to　soften　the　personal　offensiveness　of　the　nomenclature　of　this　region；　he　invariably　spoke　of　Dix's　Peak；　one　of　the　southern　peaks　of　the　range；　as　〃Dixie。〃　It　was　some　time　since　Phelps　himself　had　visited　his　mountain；　and；　as　he　pushed　on　through　the　miles　of　forest；　we　noticed　a　kind　of　eagerness　in　the　old　man；　as　of　a　lover　going　to　a　rendezvous。　　Along　the　foot　of　the　mountain　flows　a　clear　trout　stream；　secluded　and　undisturbed　in　those　awful　solitudes；　which　is　the　〃Mercy　Brook〃　of　the　old　woodsman。　　That　day　when　he　crossed　it；　in　advance　of　his　company；　he　was　heard　to　say　in　a　low　voice；　as　if　greeting　some　object　of　which　he　was　shyly　fond；　〃So；　little　brook；　do　I　meet　you　once　more？〃　　and　when　we　were　well　up　the　mountain；　and　emerged　from　the　last　stunted　fringe　of　vegetation　upon　the　rock…bound　slope；　I　saw　Old　Phelps；　who　was　still　foremost；　cast　himself　upon　the　ground；　and　heard　him　cry；　with　an　enthusiasm　that　was　intended　for　no　mortal　ear；　〃I'm　with　you　once　again！〃　　His　great　passion　very　rarely　found　expression　in　any　such　theatrical　burst。　　The　bare　summit　that　day　was　swept　by　a　fierce；　cold　wind；　and　lost　in　an　occasional　chilling　cloud。　　Some　of　the　party；　exhausted　by　the　climb；　and　shivering　in　the　rude　wind；　wanted　a　fire　kindled　and　a　cup　of　tea　made；　and　thought　this　the　guide's　business。　　Fire　and　tea　were　far　enough　from　his　thought。　　He　had　withdrawn　himself　quite　apart；　and　wrapped　in　a　ragged　blanket；　still　and　silent　as　the　rock　he　stood　on；　was　gazing　out　upon　the　wilderness　of　peaks。　　The　view　from　Marcy　is　peculiar。　It　is　without　softness　or　relief。　　The　narrow　valleys　are　only　dark　shadows；　the　lakes　are　bits　of　broken　mirror。　　From　horizon　to　horizon　there　is　a　tumultuous　sea　of　billows　turned　to　stone。　　You　stand　upon　the　highest　billow；　you　command　the　situation；　you　have　surprised　Nature　in　a　high　creative　act；　the　mighty　primal　energy　has　only　just　become　repose。　　This　was　a　supreme　hour　to　Old　Phelps。　Tea！　　I　believe　the　boys　succeeded　in　kindling　a　fire；　but　the　enthusiastic　stoic　had　no　reason　to　complain　of　want　of　appreciation　in　the　rest　of　the　party。　　When　we　were　descending；　he　told　us；　with　mingled　humor　and　scorn；　of　a　party　of　ladies　he　once　led　to　the　top　of　the　mountain　on　a　still　day；　who　began　immediately　to　talk　about　the　fashions！　　As　he　related　the　scene；　stopping　and　facing　us　in　the　trail；　his　mild；　far…in　eyes　came　to　the　front；　and　his　voice　rose　with　his　language　to　a　kind　of　scream。

〃Why；　there　they　were；　right　before　the　greatest　view　they　ever　saw；　talkin'　about　the　fashions！〃

Impos