Chapter Twelve.
An Argument on Argumentation—Also on Religion—Bounce “feelosophical” again—A Race cut short by a Bullet—Flight and Pursuit of the Redskins.
When McLeod returned to the square, he found that the trappers had adjourned with the men of the establishment to enjoy a social pipe together, and that Theodore Bertram was taking a solitary, meditative promenade in front of the gate of the fort.
“You seem in a pensive mood, Mr Bertram,” said the fur trader on coming up, “will you not try the soothing effects of a pipe? Our tobacco is good; I can recommend it.”
He offered a plug of tobacco to the artist as he spoke.
“Thank you, I do not smoke,” said Bertram, declining the proffered luxury. “Tobacco may be good—though I know it not from experience. Yet, methinks, the man is wiser who does not create an unnatural taste, than he who does so for the purpose of gratifying it.”
“Ah! you are a philosopher.”
“If judging of things and questions simply on their own merit, and with the single object of ascertaining what is truth in regard to them, constitutes a philosopher, I am.”