世界上最优美的散文--- 人生短篇

恒逸有恒 · 发表于 2017-8-6 22:15:12

读书的乐趣
人类世世代代的聪明才智，几百年来愉悦人们的故事，都可以轻松实惠地从书中获得。不过，读者必须懂得利用知识，进而获得最大收益。世上最不幸的人就是那些从未体会过阅读佳作所带来的快乐的人。
我对人很感兴趣，对他们个人和发掘他们同样兴趣十足。我所认识的一些卓越的人物只能到作家的想像中寻找，然后又体现在作家的作品之中，最后变成我的想像。我从书中结识了新朋友，扩大了社会知识，也学到了新的语言。
如果说我是对人感兴趣，那么其他人的兴趣则是关注怎样而不是谁的问题。书中的人物可谓丰富多彩，不仅有科幻小说中描写的两万年后的超人，还可以追溯到人类历史的开端。记录的事情也是千奇百怪，从对福尔摩斯侦探故事的巧妙叙述到科学发现和管教孩子的方法。
读书是一种思维享受，有点像体育运动。善于读书的人需要强烈的求知欲，丰富的知识和敏捷的反应。读书之所以是一种乐趣，并不在于作者告诉你什么，而是因为读书使你积极思考。在作者的引导下，你的想像任意驰骋，甚至超越作者的想像。对比作者的经历，你会得出自己的结论，也许相同，也许相悖，而随着你对作者思想的理解，你也会变得越来越深刻。
每一部书都独自存在，犹如独户房子。而图书馆的书籍则像城市中的建筑。尽管它们各成一体，但却共同构成一个整体。不仅它们之间相互关联，而且也与其他城市相互联系。相同或相近的看法在不同的地方出现。文学作品中反映的就是人们生活中经常出现的事情，但在不同时期作者的处理却大相径庭。书籍之间也相互影响，它们传承过去，体现现在，预测将来，相互联系，代代相传，形同各个家族。不管你从何时读起，都会有一种观点与你相符。长远来看，你不仅从书中了解世界，体验别人的生活，你也会认识你自己。
只有你诚心读书，阅读才会成为一种乐趣。假如你读的是别人认为“该”读的书，你很可能觉得索然寡味。假如你放下自己不喜欢的书，另试一本，直到发现自己觉得有意义的书，然后心情轻松地读下去，你肯定会感到心情畅快。假如你因阅读而变得更为高尚、聪明、善良、文雅，读书就不再是一种负担了。
The Pleasure of Reading
Anonymous
All the wisdom of the ages, all the stories that have delighted mankind for centuries, are easily and cheaply available to all of us within the covers of bo oks but we must know how to avail ourselves of this treasure and how to get the most from it. The most unfortunate people in the world are those who have never discovered how satisfying it is to read good books.
I am most interested in people, in them and finding out about them. Some of the most remarkable people I've met existed only in a writer's imagination, then on the pages of his book, and then, again, in my imagination. I've found in boo ks new friends, new societies, new words.
If I am interested in people, others are interested not so much in who as i n how. Who in the books includes everybody from science fiction superman two hun dred centuries in the future all the way back to the first figures in history. H ow covers everything from the ingenious explanations of Sherlock Holmes to the d iscoveries of science and ways of teaching mannner to children.
Reading is pleasure of the mind, which means that it is a little like a sport: your eagerness and knowledge and quickness make you a good reader. Reading is fun, not because the writer is telling you something, but because it makes your mind work. Your own imagination works along with the author's or even goes beyo nd his. Your experience, compared with his, brings you to the same or different conclusions, and your ideas develop as you understand his.
Every book stands by itself, like a one family house, but books in a librar y are like houses in a city. Although they are separate, together they all add u p to something, they are connected with each other and with other cities. The sa me ideas, or related ones, turn up in different places; the human problems that repeat themselves in life repeat themselves in literature, but with different so lutions according to different writings at different times. Books influence each other; they link the past, the present and the future and have their own genera tions, like families. Wherever you start reading you connect yourself with one o f the families of ideas, and in the long run, you not only find out about the wo rld and the people in it; you find out about yourself, too.
Reading can only be fun if you expect it to be. If you concentrate on books somebody tells you you “ought” to read, you probably won't have fun. But if you put down a book you don't like and try another till you find one that means som ething to you, and then relax with it, you will almost certainly have a good tim e — and if you become, as a result of reading, better, wiser, kinder, or more g entle, you won't have suffered during the process.

读书乐
约翰·卢伯克
约翰·卢伯克（1834—1913），英国考古学家，生物学家和政治家。出生于伦敦，曾任下议院议员，提出过数十个议案，包括1871年通过的《银行节假日法》（后来被称为“圣卢伯克日”）。
书对于人类就如同记忆对于个人一样。书籍记载了民族的历史，人类的发现、世代累积的知识和经验；书为我们描述自然界的奇迹和美丽，帮我们渡过难关，在我们伤痛时给予安慰，将疲劳的日子变为快乐短暂的时刻；书知识武装我们的头脑，填满美好而快乐的思想，然后提升自我，超越自我。
读书时，请不要做皇宫里的国王，最好让自己沉醉在山林海滨，探询美丽奇景，而不必受疲惫、麻烦和费用巨大之苦。书籍把珍贵无价的祝福撒在身边的小径，我们心情高尚，想像丰富地穿梭其中，去探寻壮丽迷人的地区。
麦考莱拥有财富和名声、地位和权力，然而他在传记里告诉我们，他一生中最快乐的时光就是与书为伴。在一封写给一个小女孩的迷人信件中，他写道：“如果有人能使我做有史以来最伟大的国王，拥有宫殿、园林、美酒、佳肴、马车、华服和上百名仆从，却以不能读书为条件，我不会做这个国王。我宁愿做个穷人，住在小阁楼却能饱览群书，而不愿变成不爱读书的国王。”
The Delights of Books
John Lubbock
Books are to mankind what memory is to the individual. They contain the hist ory of our race, the discoveries we have made, the accumulated knowledge and exp erience of ages; they picture for us the marvels and beauties of nature; help us in our difficulties, comfort us in sorrow and in suffering, change hours of wea riness into moments of delight, store our minds with ideas, fill them with good and happy thoughts, and lift us out of and above ourselves.
When we read we may not only be kings and live in palaces, but, what is far better, we may transport ourselves to the mountains or the seashore, and visit t he most beautiful parts of the earth, without fatigue, inconvenience, expense. P recious and priceless are the blessing, which the books scatter around our daily paths. We walk, in imagination, with the noblest spirits, through the most subl ime and enchanting regions.
Macaulay had wealth and fame, rank and power, and yet he tells us in his bio graphy that he owed the happiest hours of his life to books. In a charming lette r to a little girl, he says: “If any one would make me the greatest king that e ver lived, with palaces and gardens and fine dinners,and wines and coaches, and beautiful clothes, and hundreds of servants, on condition that I should not read books, I would not be a king. I would rather be a poor man in garret with plent y of books than a king who did not love reading.”
关于读书
阿诺德·本涅特
阿诺德·本涅特(1867—1931)，本世纪初期英国著名的小说家、散文家。他的文风受法国自然主义的影响较深，行文冷静客观，准确工整；他的文字也简单易懂，与所叙内容非常协调，具有很好的艺术效果。
鲍斯威尔的《约翰逊传》今天出了新版第一卷（奥古斯丁·比勒尔编）。这再次提醒我这本书我还没怎么读过。我在思索,那些一个普通文化人应该读，不读即为罪过的书籍,是否真有人读了或几乎读完了?如果真有这样一个人，那他一定是个非常非常老的人，而且是从婴孩时期就要开始读书,每天要坚持16个小时。
我不记得曾否读完任何一位作家的全部著作，即使简·奥斯汀也不例外。我从未看过《苏珊》和《沃森一家》，其中有一本是绝好的书。莎士比亚、培根、斯宾塞的大部分作品我也不曾读过,乔叟的书几乎没读过；康格里夫、德莱顿、蒲柏、斯威夫特、斯特恩、约翰逊、斯科特、科勒律治、雪莱、拜伦、埃奇沃斯、兰姆、利· 亨特、华兹华斯（几乎全部）、丁尼生、史文朋、勃朗特姐妹、乔治·艾略特、N·毛里斯、乔治·梅瑞迪斯、托马斯，哈代、萨维奇·兰道、萨克雷、卡莱尔—— 事实上每一位古典作家和大多数现代大家的作品我都不曾拜读过，我未读过的名著的名字也可以写一卷书了。只有一位作家——简·奥斯丁,我可称得上熟悉。对济慈和史蒂文生我也稍微了解。英国作家仅此而已。至于外国作家，我只熟悉莫泊桑和龚古儿兄弟。《唐·吉诃德》还未看完。
然而我不能说自己渎职。自20岁起，我就酷爱读书。从那时起,我除了读“正经”书外几乎可以说什么也没读（除了文学批评家的职业所要求的）。我有适度的空闲时间,读书欲望强烈稳定，我选择书籍的品位肯定高出常人；然而多年来,我对那些浩瀚的“人人必读”书目几乎没有什么印象。
On Reading
Arnold Bennett
The appearance today of the first volume of a new edition of Boswell's Johns on, edited by Augustine Birrell, reminds me once again that I have read but litt le of that work. Does there, I wonder, exist a being who has read all, or approx imately all, that the person of average culture is supposed to have read, and th at not to have read is a social sin? If such a being does exist, surely he is an old, a very old man, who has read steadily that which he ought to have read 16 hours a day, from early infancy.
I cannot recall a single author of whom I have read everything — even of Ja ne Austen. I have never seen Susan and The Watsons, one of which I have been tol d is superlatively good. Then there are large tracts of Shakespeare, Bacon, Spen ser, nearly all Chaucer, Congreve, Dryden, Pope, Swift, Sterne, Johnson, Scott, Coleridge, Shelley, Byron, Edgeworth, Ferrier, Lamb, Leigh Hunt, Wordsworth (nea rly all), Tennyson, Swinbume, and Brontes, George Eliot, W. Morris, George Mered ith, Thomas Hardy, Savage Landor, Thackeray, Carlyle—in fact every classical au thor and most good modern authors, which I have never even overlooked. A list of the masterpieces I have not read would fill a volume. With only one author can I call myself familiar, Jane Austen. With Keats and Stevenson, I have an acquain tance. So far of English. Of foreign authors I am familiar with Maupassant and the Goncourts. I have yet to finish Don Quixote!
Nevertheless I cannot accuse myself of default. I have been extremely fond o f reading since I was 20, and since I was 20 I have read practically nothing (sa ve professionally, as a literary critic) but what was “right”. My leisure has b een moderate, my desire strong and steady, my taste in selection certainly above the average, and yet in 10 years I seem scarcely to have made an impression upo n the intolerable multitude of volumes which “everyone is supposed to have read ”.

力量无限
托玛斯·德·昆西
托玛斯·德·昆西（1785—1859），19世纪前期英国著名的浪漫主义散文家，其代表作为《一个英国吸鸦片者的陈述》。本文节选自他的文章《知识的文学与力量的文学》。
除此之外，还有一种东西比真理更为神奇——那就是力量，或者说，它和真理有着深刻的感应。比如说，儿童对于社会的影响是什么呢？由于儿童的弱小、孤独、天真、纯朴而引起的种种特殊的赞叹怜爱之情，不仅使人的真性情不断地得到巩固和更新，而且，因为脆弱唤醒了宽容，天真象征着天堂，纯朴远离世俗。所以，这些在上帝面前最宝贵的品质也就永远保存在记忆里，而且它们的理想不断地被重温。高级的文学，也就是力量的文学，同样回答了这个问题。你能从《失乐园》中学到什么知识？什么也学不到。你又能从一本食谱里学到什么呢？从每一段你都能学到过去所不知道的某种新知识。但是，你会因此就把一本微不足道的食谱看得比那部神圣的诗篇还高明吗？我们从弥尔顿那里学来的并不是什么知识，因为即使有一百万条知识，也不过是在尘俗的地面上行走一百万次罢了。但弥尔顿给予我们的是力量——也就是说，运用自己潜在的感应能力，向着无限的领域扩张。在那里，脉搏的每一次跳动，力量的每一次汇集，都意味着上升一步，好似沿着雅各的天梯，从地面一步一步登上那奥秘莫测的苍穹。知识的步伐，从开始到终结，只能在同一水平面上将人往前运载，但却无法使人从原来的地面上提高一步。然而，力量所迈出的第一步就是飞跃，就是向另一种境界的超越——在那里，尘世的一切都会被忘却。
The Power Is Unlimited
Thomas De Quincey
Besides which, there is a rarer thing than truth — namely power, or deep sy mpathy with truth. What is the effect, for instance, upon society, of children? By the pity, by the tenderness, and by the peculiar modes of admiration which co nnect themselves with the helplessness, with the innocence, and with the simplic ity of children, not only are the primal affections strengthened and continually renewed, but the qualities which are dearest in the sight of heaven — the frai lty, for instance, which appeals to forbearance, the simplicity which is most al ien from the worldly — are kept up in perpetual remembrance, and their ideals a re continually refreshed. A purpose of the same nature is answered by the higher literature, viz, the literature of power. What do you learn from Paradise Lost? Nothing at all. What do you learn from a cookery book? Something new, somethin g that you did not know before, in every paragraph. But would you therefore put the wretched cookery book on a higher level of estimation than the divine poem? What you owe to Milton is not any knowledge, of which a million separate items are still but a million of advancing steps on the same earthly level; what you o we is power—that is, exercise and expansion to your own latent capacity of sy mpathy with the infinite, where every pulse and each separate influx is a step u pward, a step

恒逸有恒 · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:30:15

论教育

阿尔弗烈德·诺斯·怀特海

阿尔弗烈德·诺斯·怀特海（1861—1947），英国著名数学家与哲学家，剑桥大学毕业1914—1924年间任伦敦大学实用数学教授。1924—1937年受美国哈佛大学聘请，在该校讲授哲学，嗣后即继续留居美国。怀特海是近代英美知识界影响较广的学者之一。

教育是获得运用知识的艺术。这门艺术非常不易传授。即使是一本具有真正教育价值的教科书，可以断定，也会有书评家说它教起课来不容易使用。教起课来当然不容易使用。教起来不费功夫的书是没有意义的,只配烧掉，因为它根本没有教育价值。教育就如同其他领域，宽阔的樱草路是通往绝境的。这条害人之路就表现在一套书或讲义上面，凭借这些资料,学生往往简单背诵可能会在考试中出现的问题便了事。我想提一下，这样的教育体制是没有任何出路的，否则就必须做到：允许授课的老师亲自去组织和修改考试中的问题,提问自己的学生……

我们再来讨论我上面提出的观点，一定要把理论概念具体地运用到学生的课程之中。这条原则在具体运用中十分困难，因为它关系到教育的中心问题,必须不断地更新知识,使知识保持生命力,防止知识僵化。

……

我呼吁那些奋斗在一线的教师要，经受良好的训练。这样，把死板知识灌注到学生们的头脑当中是没问题的。给学生一本书就让他们学,这样就万事大吉了。于是学生就学会解二次方程了。但是教会他去解二次方程的目的又何在呢?按照传统的回答就是：人的头脑就是工具，要想好好利用就必须先塑造它，学习解二次方程就是塑造头脑这个工具的一部分。这种观点也有道理,否则不会经历这么久远。但是这个片面道理却包含着一个根本性的错误，它抑制了天才智慧。我不知道是谁提出头脑是一个工具的。对此我一无所知,也可能是希腊七智中的哪一个或者他们七个商量后共同弄出来的。到底谁是始作俑者先不管，由于受到名流们的推崇，这种说法毫无疑问已经获得了很大权威。但是不管它的权威有多大，不管它能援引的称赞有多强大，我都毫不犹豫地肯定，对教育理论而言,这就是一个最要命、最错误和最危险的观念。头脑从来都不是被动的，它一息不停地活动，非常灵敏，富于接受事物，对刺激感觉敏锐。你不能等你把它塑造后再去使用它。不管你的题材会引起什么兴趣，这种兴趣必须此时此地就召唤起来；不管你如何培养自己的学生，他的能力必须此时此地就运用起来；不管你会对学生的思想产生怎样的影响，这些倾向必须此时此地就展示出来。这就是教育上的规律，一条很难把握的规律。

困难就是这样：一般概念的理解，思维活动的习惯，精神收获的愉悦，即使安排得恰如其分,也不好用语言形式确切地表达。从事教学的一线教师们都懂得，教育是个耐心的过程，要掌握具体的细节,一分一秒也不能中断。学习不会是轻松的, 这里没有精美概括的坦途。谚语所说的“只见树木,不见树林”，这正是我这里要强调的困难。教育的问题正是如何使学生通过树木而看见森林。

……

再有，不是每一门学科仅仅提供专门的知识和内容。大众教育也是一门专门的学科。从另一方面讲，培养一种专门爱好也是进行综合教育的一条途径。学问的综合性是毋庸置疑的。教育所传授的就是要建立对思想的力量、思想的美和思想的结构的亲密感觉，此外还要有所专长，作为谋生的手段。

对思维结构的理解也是智慧的一方面，只有靠学习专门知识才能培养起来。这就是那种通观全局、善于把握各类思想之间联系的慧眼。只有学习专业知识,才能充分理解一般思想的形成，它们彼此间的关系以及对于人生的用途等。经受这样的训练,思维势必既能更为抽象，又能更为具体。这是在抽象思想的领会与具体事实的分析的基础上训练出来的。

On Education

Alfred North Whitehead

Education is the acquisition of the art of the utilization of knowledge.This is an art very, difficult to impart.Whenever a text book is written of real ed ucational worth, you may be quite certain that some reviewer will say that it will be difficult to teach from it. Of course it will be difficult to teach from it. If it were easy, the book ought to be burned; for it cannot be educational. I n education, as elsewhere, the broad primrose path leads to a nasty place. This evil path is represented by a book or a set of lectures which will practically e nable the student to learn by heart all the questions likely to be asked at the next external examination. And I may say. in passing that no educational system is possible unless every question, directly asked of a pupil at any examination is either framed or modified by the actual teacher of that pupil in that subject …

We now return to my previous point, that theoretical ideas should always fin d important applications within the pupil’s curriculum. This is not an easy doc trine to apply, but a very hard one. It contains within itself the problem of ke eping knowledge alive, of preventing it from becoming inert, which is the centra l problem of all education.

…

I appeal to you, as practical teachers. With good discipline, it is always p ossible to pump into the minds of a class a certain quantity of inert knowledge. You take a text book and make them learn it. So far, so good. The child then k nows how to solve a quadratic equation. But what is the point of teaching a chil d to solve a quadratic equation? There is a traditional answer to this question. It runs thus: The mind is an instrument, you first sharpen it, and then use it; the acquisition of the power of solving a quadratic equation is part of the pro cess of sharpening the mind. Now there is just enough truth in this answer to ha ve made it live through the ages. But for all its half truth, it embodies a rad ical error which bids fair to stifle the genius of the modern world. I do not kn ow who was first responsible for this analogy of the mind to a dead instrument. For aught I know, it may have been one of the seven wise men of Greece, or a com mittee of the whole lot of them. Whoever was the originator, there can be no dou bt of the authority which it has acquired by the continuous approval bestowed up on it by eminent persons.But whatever its weight of authority, whatever the high approval which it can quote, I have no hesitation in denouncing it as one of the most fatal, erroneous, and dangerous conceptions ever introduced into the theo ry of education. The mind is never passive; it is a perpetual activity, delicate , receptive, responsive to stimulus.You cannot postpone its life until you have sharpened it. Whatever interest attaches to your subject matter must be evoked hele and now; whatever powers you are strengthening in the pupil, must be exe rcised here and now; whatever possibilities of mental life your teaching should impart, must be exhibited here and now.That is the golden rule of education, and a very difficult rule to follow.

The difficulty is just this: the apprehension of general ideas, intellectual habits of mind, and pleasurable interest in mental achievement can be evoked by no form of words, however accurately adjusted. All practical teachers know that education is a patient process of the mastery of details, minute by minute, hou r by hour, day by day.There is no royal roads to learning through an airy path o f brilliant generalizations.There is a proverb about the difficulty of seeing th e wood because of the trees. That difficulty is exatly the point which I am enfo rcing. The problem of education is to make the pupil see the wood by means of th e trees.

…

Again, there is not one course of study which merely gives general culture, and another which gives special knowledge. The subjects pursued for the sake of a general education are special subjects specially studied; and, on the other ha nd, one of the ways of encouraging general mental activity is to foster a specia l devotion. You may not divide the seamless coat of learning. What education has to impart is an intimate sense for the power of ideas, for the beauty of ideas, and for the structure of ideas together with a particular body of knowledge whi ch has peculiar reference to the life of the being possessing it.

The appreciation of the structure of ideas is that side of a cultured mind w hich can only grow under the influence of a special study. I mean that eye for t he whole chess board, for the bearing of one set of ideas on another.Nothing bu t a special study can give any appreciation for the exact formulation of general ideas, for their relations when formulated, for their service in the comprehens ion of life. A mind so disciplined should be both more abstract and more concret e. It has been trained in the comprehension of abstract thought and in the analy sis of facts.

恒逸有恒 · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:30:51

莎士比亚的仙岛

乔治·吉辛

乔治·吉辛（1857—1903），英国小说家与散文作者。出身寒苦，1880年后开始靠教书为生，同时为出版家编校稿件和撰写小说。自此时起一生所著小说不下十六七部，此外尚有散文游记与评论多种。

今天我读了《暴风雨》……在我因生于英国而自豪的理由中，有一个就是我能以我的母语来阅读莎士比亚的著作。我曾设想，如果我对于他是相识不能相见，声音在远处只是依稀可辨，又要经过冥思苦想才能明白他的话语的真正含义，那我一定会饮誉受挫,若有所失了。我一向自以为能读荷马，并且深信自己有欣赏荷马的能力，但是我曾梦想过荷马已把他的全部音乐知识传授于我。对我来说，他的言语如同古希腊当时漫步于海滨的人们一样深沉。我深知，经过岁月的洗涤,最终我能获得的只不过是一点微弱的回声罢了。我深知,这个回声会变得更加脆弱,若不是因为它和青春的记忆相连,闪烁着世界古代全盛时期的容光，愿每块土地都能愉悦它的诗人。因为诗人就是这块土地，体现着她的伟大与芳馨,是人们为之生死的不可言传的遗产。当我合拢书卷的时候，一种爱慕与崇敬的感情深深地支配着我。我的满腔热诚都给予了这位伟人的法术，还是倾倒在被他撒下魅力的仙岛上了呢?我不清楚。在我的意识中我已不能将它们分开。崇高的声音唤起了爱慕与崇敬的情感，莎士比亚与英吉利已经成为一体。

Shakespeare’s Island

George Gissing

To day I have read The Tempest …Among the many reasons which make me glad to have been born in England, one of the first is that I read Shakespeare in my mother tongue. If I try to imagine myself as ono who cannot know him face to fac e, who hears him only speaking from afar, and that in accents which only through the labouring intelligence can touch the living soul, there comes upon me a sen se of chill discouragement, of dreary deprivation. I am wont to think that I can read Homer, and, assuredly, if any man enjoys him, it is I; but can I for a mom ent dream that Homer yields me all his music, that his word is to me as to him w ho walked by the Hellenic shore when Hellas lived? I know that there reaches me across the vast of time no more than a faint and broken echo;I know that it woul d be fainter still, but for its blending with those memories of youth which are as a glimmer of the world's primeval glory. Let every land have joy of its poet; for the poet is the land itself, all its greatness and its sweetness, all that incommunicable heritage for which men live and die. As I close the book, love an d reverence possess me. Whether does my full heart turn to the great Enchanter, or to the Island upon which he has laid his spell? I know not. I cannot think of them apart. In the love and reverence awakened by that voice of voices,Shakespe are and England are but one.

适合的才是最好的

威廉·赫兹里特

词汇的严格意义不在词汇本身，而在词汇的应用。一个单词可能音节嘹亮，字母很多，单就它的学术价值和新奇感来说，可能是令人叹赏的，然而把它放在具体的语境中，也可能毫无意义。不是依靠词汇的华丽和夸张,而是对作者主题的贴切适用,才能表达作者的写作意图。正如在建筑中，不必在意材料的大小和光泽，只要它们用在那里砌合得完整严实,就能牢固地支撑拱门。又或是在建筑物中，木楔和钉子的支撑作用有时竟与大件木料同等重要，它的作用远远胜过那些徒有其表、不切实用的装饰部件。我讨厌那些白占地方的东西，讨厌满载一大堆空纸盒的车招摇过市，也讨厌堆砌那些大而无实际内容的词汇。一个人写文章，只要他不是故意用重重锦绣帐幔、多余伪装完全遮掩自己的写作意图，他总会从熟悉的日常用语中想出一二十种说法，这种语言更接近他所要表达的情感，最后，他就会因为不知道挑选哪一种说法能更好地表达自己而发愁！这样看来，考拜特先生所谓的第一印象就是最好的说法未必可靠。这样出现的字眼也许很好，可是经过一次次推敲，就会发现更好的字眼。这种字眼，也许来源于自然的暗示，但经过对主题清新活泼的观念思维，会自然而然地想到。

Suit Is Best

William Hazlitt

The proper force of words lies not in the words themselves, but in their app lication. A word may be a fine sounding word, of an unusual length, and very imp osing from its learning and novelty, and yet in the connection in which it is in troduced may be quite pointless and irrelevant, It is not pomp or pretension, bu t the adaptation of the expression to the idea, that clenches a writer's meaning : as it is not the size or glossiness of the materials, but their being fitted e ach to its place, that gives strength to the arch; or as the pegs and nails are as necessary to the support of the building as the larger timbers, and more so t han the mere showy, unsubstantial ornaments. I hate anything that occupies more space than it is worth. I hate to see a load of bandboxes go along the street, a nd I hate to see a parcel of big words without anything in them. A person who de ws not deliberately dimples of all his thoughts alike in cumbrous draperies and flimsy disguises may strike out twenty varieties of familiar everyday language, each coming somewhat nearer to the feeling he wants to convey, and at last not h it upon that particular and only one which may be said to be identical with the exact impression in his mind. This would seem to show that Mr. Cobalt is hardly right in saying that the first word that occurs is always the best. It may be a very good one; and yet a better may present itself on reflection or from time to time. It may be suggested naturally, however, and spontaneously, from a fresh a nd lively conception of the subject.

恒逸有恒 · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:34:02

书友

塞缪尔·斯迈尔斯

塞缪尔·斯迈尔斯(1812—1904)，英国传记作家与青少年道德修养书籍作者。他所写的《品格的力量》、《自励》等书都是人们争相传颂的经典。

与什么书为伴,就像与什么人为伴一样,都能体现一个人的品格。有以人为伴的,也有以书为伴的。无论是书友或朋友，我们都应该慎重选择,与佳为伴。

好书犹如知己。不管过去,现在，还是将来,它都始终如一。它是最有耐心、最令人愉快的伴侣。困难之际,它也不离不弃。它总是以友善相待,在我们年轻时，好书能陶冶性情，增长知识；到我们年老时，它又会给我们以宽慰。

好书可以使人结为朋友，就像两个人会因为敬慕同一个人而交为朋友一样。古谚说：“爱屋及乌”，但是，“爱我及书”这句话却有更深的哲理。书是更为牢固和真实的情谊纽带。假如拥有共同喜爱的作家,人们可以借此沟通思想感情。他们可以由此和作者产生共鸣。

哈兹利特曾经说过：“书潜移默化人们的内心，诗歌熏陶人们的气质品性。少小所习，老大不忘，恍如身历其事。书籍价廉物美，不啻我们呼吸的空气。”

好书犹如珍藏人一生思想精华的工具。人生的境界，主要就在于他思想的境界。所以，好书保藏着优美的语言，深邃的思想，倘若能铭记于心，就成为我们忠实的伴侣和永恒的慰藉。菲利普·悉尼爵士说得好：“有高尚思想做伴的人永不孤独。”

当我们面临诱惑的时候，虔诚而公正的信念就像仁慈的天使，保卫我们的灵魂,使她依旧纯洁。这同样孕育着行为的冲动，往往成为善行的先导。

书籍的品质是不朽的，是人类勤奋努力的最为持久的结晶。寺庙会倒坍，神像会朽烂，而书却经久长存。在伟大的思想面前，时间显得微不足道。多少年前曾经感动作者的思想今天依然清新如故。书籍记载了他们的言论和思想，现在看来依旧生动。时间惟一的作用是淘汰垃圾作品，只有真正的作品才能经受时间的检验而经久长存。

书籍引导我们进入主流社会，与历代伟人为伍，使我们如闻其声，如观其行，如见其人,如与他们朝夕相处,同欢喜,共伤悲。我们继承他们的感受，好似觉得在他们所描绘的舞台上跟他们同台献艺了。

伟大杰出的人物在这世间也不会消逝，书籍记载他们的思想,然后传播开来。书是人们至今仍在聆听的思想回声，永远充满着活力。因此，我们永远都在受着历代伟人的影响。多少年前的盖世英才，就如同在他所生活的时代，今天依旧显示着强大的生命力。

Companionship of Books

Samuel Smiles

A man may usually be known by the books he reads as well as by the company h e keeps; for there is a companionship of books as well as of men; and one should always live in the best company, whether it be of books or of men.

A good book may be among the best of friends. It is the same today that it a lways was, and it will never change. It is the most patient and cheerful of comp anions. It does not turn its back upon us in times of adversity or distress. It always receives us with the same kindness; amusing and instructing us in youth, and comforting and consoling us in age.

Men often discover their affinity to each other by the love they have each f or a book — just as two persons sometimes discover a friend by the admiration w hich both have for a third. There is an old proverb,“Love me, love my dog.” Bu t there is more wisdom in this:“Love me, love my book.” The book is a truer an d higher bond of union. Men can think, feel, and sympathize with each other thro ugh their favorite author. They live in him together, and he in them.

“Books,” said Hazlitt, “wind into the heart; the poet's verse slides in t he current of our blood. We read them when young, we remember them when old. We feel that it has happened to ourselves. They are to be had very cheap and good. We breathe but the air of books.”

A good book is often the best urn of a life enshrining the best that life co uld think out; for the world of a man's life is, for the most part, but the worl d of his thoughts. Thus the best books are treasuries of good words, the golden thoughts, which, remembered and cherished, become our constant companions and co mforters. “They are never alone,” said Sir Philip Sidney,“that are accompanie d by noble thoughts.”

The good and true thought may in times of temptation be as an angel of mercy purifying and guarding the soul. It also enshrines the germs of action, for goo d words almost always inspire to good works.

Books possess an essence of immortality. They are by far the most lasting pr oducts of human effort. Temples and statues decay, but books survive. Time is of no account with great thoughts, which are as fresh today as when they first pas sed through their author's minds, ages ago. What was then said and thought still speaks to us as vividly as ever from the printed page. The only effect of time has been to sift out the bad products; for nothing in literature can long surviv e but what is really good.

Books introduce us into the best society they bring us into the presence of the greatest minds that have ever lived. We hear what they said and did; we see them as if they were really alive; we sympathize with them, enjoy with them, gri eve with them; their experience becomes ours, and we feel as if we were in a mea sure actors with them in the scenes which they describe.

The great and good do not die even in this world. Embalmed in books, their s pirits walk abroad. The book is a living voice. It is an intellect to which one still listens. Hence we ever remain under the influence of the great men of old. The imperial intellects of the world are as much alive now as they were ages ag o.

谈读书

弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙

弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙（1882—1941），现代著名意识流小说家。她出生于伦敦，从小博览群书，曾和兄妹们居住在伦敦的布卢姆斯伯里，形成一个影响广泛的文人圈子。她的主要作品有小说《奥兰多》、《去灯塔》、《戴洛威夫人》、《海浪》，散文集《一间自己的屋子》等。

既然书籍有不同的种类，如小说、传记、诗歌等，我们就应该把它们区分开来，并从每种中汲取应当对我们有用的成分。然而，很少有人能从书籍中获得书籍所提供的有用价值。通常我们总是心不在焉,毫无目的地去看书：要求小说情节真实，要求诗歌内容虚构，要求传记阿谀奉承，要求历史能加深自己的偏见。如果我们读书时能抛弃这些偏见，那将是一个令人羡慕的开端。我们无须盲从作者，而应站在作者的立场上，把自己当成作者的创作伙伴。假如一开始你就退缩不前，持保留甚至批判的态度,就会妨碍自己从阅读中得到最大的益处。然而，如果你能尽量敞开思想，那么，从开头几句迂回曲折的话里,可以发现那些几乎难以觉察的迹象和暗示，然后会把你引到一个与众不同的人物的面前去。是自己深入进去,进一步体味作者的用心,很快就会领悟作者正在给你或试图给你某些更为明确的东西。倘若我们首先考虑怎样读小说，那么，一部小说中的32章就是企图创造出像一座建筑物那样既有形式又能控制的东西，不过词句要比砖块难以捉摸，阅读要比看更费时、更复杂。也许理解小说家创作要素的捷径并不是读，而是写作，亲自去尝试写作的艰难。那么，回想一下给你留下鲜明印象的事项——比如，你走过大街拐角碰见两个人说话时的情景,树在摇曳、灯光在晃动，谈话的语气时喜时悲，这一瞬间就是一个完整的画面，一个整体的构思。

About Reading Books

Virginia Woolf

It is simple enough to say that since books have classes fiction, biography , poetry — we should separate them and take from each what is right that each s hould give us. Yet few people ask from books what books can give us. Most common ly we come to books with blurred and divided minds, asking of fiction that it sh all be true, of poetry that it shall be false, of biography that it shall be fla ttering, of history that it shall enforce our own prejudices. If we could banish all such preconceptions when we read, that would be an admirable beginning. Do not dictate to your author; try to become him.Be his fellow worker and accompli ce. If you hang back, and reserve, and criticize at first, you are preventing yo urself from getting the fullest possible value from what you read. But if you op en your mind as widely as possible, then signs and hints of almost imperceptible fineness, from the twist, and turn of the first sentences, will bring you into the presence of a human being unlike any other. Steep yourself in this, acquaint yourself with this, and soon you will find that your author is giving you, or a ttempting to give you, something far more definite. The thirty two chapters of a novel — if we consider how to read a novel first — are an attempt to make so mething as formed and controlled as a building: but words are more impalpable th an bricks, reading is a longer and more complicated process than seeing. Perhaps the quickest way to understand the elements of what a novelist is doing is not to read, but to write, to make your own experiment with the dangers and difficul ties of words. Recall, then, some event that has left a distinct impression on you — how at the corner of the street, perhaps, you passed two people talking, A tree shook, an electric light danced, the tone of the talk was comic, but also tragic, a whole vision, an entire conception, seemed contained in that moment.

真理是为一切人而设的

罗宾德拉纳德·泰戈尔

罗宾德拉纳德·泰戈尔（1861—1941），享誉世界的印度诗人、小说家、哲学家，1913 年以诗作《吉檀迦利》获诺贝尔文学奖，是第一位获得该荣誉的亚洲人。

有一些很骄傲、明智、实际的人们，他们说，宽厚并不是人类的本性，人们将永远互相争斗，强者将会征服弱者，人类的文明不可能有真实的道德基础。我们不能否认他们所说的强者在人类世界上具有权势这个事实，但是我拒绝把这种说法当作真理的启示而加以接受……

我们应该知道，真理——人类所获得的任何真理——是为一切人而设的。金钱和财产属于个人，属于你们当中的每一个人，但是你们绝对不能利用真理来增长你们个人的财富和权势，因为那样做就等于出卖上帝的恩泽，借以牟利。可是科学也是真理，它适当的职责在于救治病人，并为人类生活提供更多的食物与闲暇。如果它帮助强者去压迫弱者，去掠夺那些在沉睡中的人们，它就是在利用真理去达成不虔敬的目的。那些以这种方式亵渎神圣的人们定会遭到报应和惩罚，因为他们的武器将会被用来对付他们自己。

Truth Is for Everyone

Rabindranath Tagore

There are some people, who are proud and wise and practical, who say that it is not in human nature to be generous, that men will always fight one another, that the strong will conquer the weak, and that there can be no real moral found ation for man's civilization. We cannot deny the facts of their assertion that t he strong have power in the human world, but I refuse to accept this as a revela tion of truth…

We should know that truth, any truth that man acquires, is for everyone. Mon ey and property belong to individuals, to each of you, but you must never exploi t truth for your personal aggrandizement; that would be selling God's blessing f or a profit. However, science is also truth; it has its place in the healing of the sick, and in giving more food and leisure for life. When it helps the strong crush the weak, and rob those who are asleep, it is using truth for impious end s. Those who are thus sacrilegious will suffer and be punished, for their own we apons will be turned against them.

恒逸有恒 · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:34:33

知识与美德

约翰·亨利·纽曼

约翰·亨利·纽曼(1801—1890)，英国诗人、小说家、宗教思想家。主要著作有《为自己的一生辩护》、《说教集》等。本文选自他的另一部重要著作《论大学》。

知识是一回事，美德则是另外一回事。好意不是良心，优雅不是谦让，广博与公正的观点也不是信仰。无论多么富有启迪或高深莫测的哲学，都无法左右感情，都不具备有影响力的动机，都不具有导致生动活泼的原理。文科教育并非为了造就基督教徒或者天主教徒，而是为了造就绅士。造就一个绅士是件美好的事，有教养的才智，优雅的情趣，正直、公正而冷静的头脑，高贵而彬彬有礼的举止——这些是与渊博的学识生来固有的品质，也正是大学教育的目的。我倡导它们，并加以阐释和坚持。不过我要说的是，它们仍然不能确保圣洁，或甚不能保证诚实。它们可以附庸于世故的俗人，附庸于玩世不恭的浪子。唉，当他们用它伪装起来时，就更增加了他们外表上的冷静、快活和魅力。就其本身而言，它们似乎已经面目全非，它们已成为一种只可远观的美德，只有经过长久的观察方可探知真相。因此它们受到广泛的责难，被指责为虚假、伪善。我想强调的是，这绝不是因为它们自身有什么过错，而是因为教授及其崇拜者们一味地把它们弄得面目全非，而且还殷勤地献上其本身并未要求的赞扬。如果说用剃刀能开采花岗岩，用丝线能系住船只，那么你就可以希望能用人的知识和理性这样美妙而优雅的东西去同人类的情感与高傲那样的庞然大物进行抗争。

Knowledge and Virtue

J. H. Newman

Knowledge is one thing, virtue is another; good sense is not conscience, ref inement is not humility, nor is largeness and justness of view faith. Philosophy , however enlightened, however profound, gives no command over the passions, no influential motives, no vivifying principles. Liberal Education makes not the Ch ristian, not the Catholic, but the gentleman. It is well to be a gentleman, it i s well to have a cultivated intellect, a delicate taste, a candid, equitable, di spassionate mind, a noble and courteous bearing in the conduct of life — these are the connatural qualities of a large knowledge; they are the objects of a Uni versity; I am advocating, I shall illustrate and insist upon them; but still, I repeat, they are no guarantee for sanctity or even for conscientiousness, they m ay attach to the man of the world, to the profligate, to the heartless, pleasant , alas, and attractive as he shows when decked, out in them. Taken by themselves , they do but seem to be what they are not; they look like virtue at a distance, but they are detected by close observers, and on the long run; and hence it is that they are popularly accused of pretense and hypocrisy, not, I repeat, from t heir own fault, but because their professors and their admirers persist in takin g them for what they are not, and are officious in arrogating for them a praise to which they have no claim. Quarry the granite rock with razors, or moor the ve ssel with a thread of silk, then may you hope with such keen and delicate instru ments as human knowledge and human reason to contend against those giants, the p assion and the pride of man.

风格

瓦尔特·罗利

瓦尔特·罗利（1861—1922）近代英国文学批评家、作家，曾就读于伦敦大学与剑桥皇家学院，后从事教学与写作，是一位才情超群的文学批评家。本文节选自其名作《Style》。

Style 这个在拉丁语中原义为“铁笔”的名词，久已被用来作为驾驭语言这种流动事物的艺术，而这种驾驭是具有日益蓬勃的生机和审慎的矫健性的。显而易见的是，凭借譬喻手段(譬喻仍不失为文学方法的一种概括)，使本来最刻板最简单的工具竟能把它的名字假借给艺术中最精致灵活的艺术。以这为起点，这个名称又被广泛地应用到文学以外的其他艺术，应用到人类全部活动范围。我们使用style一词来谈论建筑、雕刻、绘画、音乐、舞蹈、歌剧、板球，我们使用这个词来叙述人与兽的肢体上的那种自然遒劲的动作这一事实，正是我们对文学功能的一种最崇高的不自觉的礼赞。笔，这种吮蜡濡纸的工具，已经成为人性中所有富于表现力的、所有亲切的事物的象征。不但武力与技艺向它屈服，人类自身也向它屈服。人的声音，它的起伏高低，并辅之以活跃的面部表情与体态姿势上的千变万化，都势所必然地要借助于这同一譬喻：演说家与演员也都渴望得到风格方面的鉴赏。“再真实不过的就是”，正如《悲哀的解剖》的作者所写到的，“Stuylus Virum arguit，我们的风格暴露了我们自己”。其他姿态都可以是变动不定，了无痕迹的，风格却是性格的最终极最经久的表露。演员与演说家不得不在不能历久的材料上来求得短暂的效果；他们的业绩与身俱亡。雕刻家与建筑师所经营的材料虽较为耐久，但却又操持困难，冥顽不灵，不容易承受心灵状态的各种印记。所有的道德、哲理与美学、情态与信念、主义与幻想、热情及表白等等——所有这一切，除文学以外，又有哪一种艺术足以把它们涵摄无遗，而又能避免其突然消亡的危险?又有其他哪一种艺术能够对在习性上如此纷纭，趣味上如此歧异的人们，赋予其以充分发挥的余地?事实上，不论欧几里德与雪莱，埃德蒙·斯宾塞与赫伯特· 斯宾塞，大卫王与大卫·休谟，他们都是语言文字这门艺术的追逐者。

……

一切风格都是姿态，心智的姿态与灵魂的姿态。心智是我们所共有的，因为正确理性的规律对于不同的心智并没有什么不同。因此清晰与条理是可以通过施以教诲得到，而表达技巧上的极端无能也可以部分地得到矫正。但是又有谁能对灵魂强行制定规律呢，一个最常见的现象是，人们尽管可以并不喜爱甚至厌恶某一特殊风格，而同时却又对它的纯熟、气势以及这种风格与其内容的贴切一致由衷钦佩。弥尔顿以其文风论，是一位比莎士比亚更为简洁朴实和精确无误的大师，但却未必具有这样可爱的性格。当一个人本身价值非凡时，作为其标志的风格的价值也不会太小。人们常说：“开口吧，我就能认识你”——声音所表示的要比面庞更为深刻。动笔吧，只要你对手中的工具已有几分掌握，你就会把你自己摹写下来，不论你愿意与否。不管你如何没意识到的缺点，不管你如何想隐瞒的优点，在你性格中的不论是卑劣或宽厚，没有一项是不会在文字上表现出来的。你虽早知道有最后审判日的到来，却仍不免要对那职掌记录的天使提供材料。文学中的批评艺术虽然经常受到贬低，而在艺术中处于卑微地位，但却恰恰是判辨与解释这些书面证据的一门艺术。人们常把批评和创造对立起来，这也可能是由于批评所试图进行的那种创造还成效不大，于是世人遂忘记，批评的首要职务并不是去制定条律，也不是去做分类，而是去起死回生。墓穴在它的指挥之下，可把沉睡的人唤醒过来，打开墓门，令其悉数逸出。正是依靠这种艺术的创造力量，才有可能从先人遗留的残缺不全、字迹模糊的故纸堆中按原样再造出当年的活人来。

Style

Walter Raleigh

Style, the Latin name for an iron pen, has come to designate the art that ha ndles, with ever fresh vitality and wary alacrity, the fluid elements of speech. By a figure, obvious enough, which yet might serve for an epitome of literary m ethod, the most rigid and simplest of instruments has lent its name to the subtl est and most flexible of arts. Thence the application of the word has been exten ded to arts other than literature, to the whole range of the activities of man. The fact that we use the word “style" in speaking of architecture and sculpture , painting and music, dancing, play acting, and cricket, that we can apply it t o the spontaneous animal movements of the limbs of man or beast, is the noblest of unconscious tributes to the faculty of letters. The pen, scratching on wax or paper, has become the symbol of all that is expressive, all that is intimate, i n human nature; not only arms and arts, but man himself, has yielded to it. His living voice, with its undulations and inflexions, assisted by the mobile play o f feature and an infinite variety of bodily gesture, is driven to borrow dignity from the same metaphor; the orator and the actor are fain to be judged by style .“It is most true”, says the author of The Anatomy of Melancholy，“stylus viru m arguit, our style bewrays us.” Other gestures shift and change and flit, this is the ultimate and enduring revelation of personality. The actor and the orator are condemned to work evanescent effects on transitory material; the dust that they write on is blown about their graves. The sculptor and the architect deal i n less perishable ware; but the stuff is recalcitrant and stubborn, and will not take the impress of all states of the soul. Morals, philosophy, and aesthetic, mood and conviction, creed and whim, habit, passion, and demonstration — what a rt but the art of literature admits the entrance of all these, and guards them f rom the suddenness of mortality? What other art gives scope to natures and dispo sitions so diverse, and to tastes so contrarious? Euclid and Shelley, Edmund Spe nser and Herbert Spencer, King David and David Hume, are all followers of the ar t of letters.

…

All style is gesture, the gesture of the mind and of the soul. Mind we have in common, inasmuch as the laws of right reason are not different for different minds. Therefore clearness and arrangement can be taught, sheer incompetence in the art of expression can be partly remedied. But who shall impose laws upon the soul? It is thus of common note that one may dislike or even hate a particular style while admiring its facility, its strength, its skilful adaptation to the m atter set forth. Milton, a chaster and mote unerring master of the art than Shak espeare, reveals no such lovable personality. While persons count for much, styl e, the index to persons, can never count for little. “Speak,” it has been said, “that I may know you” — voice gesture is more than feature. Write, and after you have attained to some control over the instrument, you write yourself down whether you will or no. There is no vice, however unconscious, no virtue, howeve r shy, no touch of meanness or of generosity in your character, that will not pa ss on to the paper. You anticipate the Day of Judgment and furnish the recording angel with material. The Art of Criticism in Literature, so often decried and g iven a subordinate place among the arts, is none other than the art of reading a nd interpreting these written evidences. Criticism has been popularly opposed to creation, perhaps because the kind of creation that it attempts is rarely achie ved, and so the world forgets that the main business of Criticism, after all, is not to legislate, nor to classify, but to raise the dead. Graves, at its comman d, have waked their sleepers, oped, and let them forth. It is by the creative po wer of this art that the living man is reconstructed from the litter of blurred and fragmentary paper documents that he has left to posterity.

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:35:55

何谓伟大的艺术

约翰·罗斯金

绘画，或者说一般的艺术本身，尽管它们技巧高妙、困难重重、目标独特，其实也不过是一种高贵而富于表现力的语言，和思想的载体一样，非常宝贵，不过它们自身毫无价值。一个人要想学会通常所说的绘画艺术，也就是忠实地再现任何客观物体的艺术，也不过是学会了表达思想的语言。为了成为受人尊敬的大师，他付出了艰辛的努力，但这种努力跟某个学会用合乎语法、音调悦耳的文字表达情意的人想成为伟大诗人所付出的努力是一样的。这种语言的确比那种语言难学，当它诉诸智力时，也更能使人的感官感到愉悦。然而，它仅仅是语言，画家认为独特的各种优点，也就相当于诗人和演说家语言具有的节奏、旋律、精密和力量，这些只是他们伟大的必要条件，而不是检验他们是否伟大的标准。不管是画家还是作家，他的伟大与否，最终不是看他表现与写作的方式，而是看他表现与写作的内容。

所以，如果我说最伟大的画，就是能向看画人的大脑传达最多伟大思想的画，那么，我这个定义就包括了艺术所能传达的作为比较对象的全部乐趣。相反，如果我说最好的画就是模仿自然模仿得最逼真的画，我是在假定艺术只有模仿自然才能给人愉悦，我批评时就会抛开那些不是模仿的艺术作品，即具有自身色彩美和形式美的作品，以及像拉斐尔在梵蒂冈宫给绘制的壁画那样毫无模仿的一切艺术作品。现在，我想找个很广的艺术定义，囊括目标各异的所有艺术种类。因此，我不说给人愉悦最多的艺术最伟大，因为也许某种艺术目的在于教育，不在于给人以愉悦。我不说教给我们知识最多的艺术最伟大，因为也许某种艺术目的在于给人愉悦，不在于教育。我不说模仿最佳的艺术最伟大，因为也许某种艺术目的在于创造而不在于模仿。但我要说，无论采用何种方式，只要是向观众大脑传达最丰富最伟大的思想的艺术，就是最伟大的艺术；我所说的伟大思想是指它能够为心智较高的人所接受，它能更彻底地占有并在占有过程中锻炼和提高接受它的心智。

如果说这就是伟大艺术的定义，那么，伟大艺术家的定义自然就是这样的：最伟大的艺术家就是其全部作品表现了最丰富最伟大的思想的艺术家。

A Definition of Greatness in Art

John Ruskin

Painting, or art generally, as such, with all its technicalities, difficulti es, and particular ends, is nothing but a noble and expressive language, invalua ble as the vehicle of thought, but by itself nothing. He who has learned what is commonly considered the whole art of painting, that is, the art of representing any natural object faithfully, has as yet only learned the language by which hi s thoughts are to be expressed. He has done just as much towards being that whic h we ought to respect as a great painter, as a man who has learnt how to express himself grammatically and melodiously has towards being a great poet. The langu age is, indeed, more difficult of acquirement in the one case than in the other, and possesses more power of delighting the sense, while it speaks to the intell ect; but it is, nevertheless, nothing more than language, and all those excellen ces which are peculiar to the painter as such, are merely what rhythm, melody, p recision, and force are in the words of the orator and the poet, necessary to th eir greatness, but not the tests of their greatness. It is not by the mode of re presenting and saying, but by what is represented and said, that the respective greatness either of the painter or the writer is to be finally determined.

So that, if I say that the greatest picture is that which conveys to the min d of the spectator the greatest number of the greatest ideas, I have a definitio n which will include as subjects of comparison every pleasure which art is capab le of conveying. If I were to say, on the contrary, that the best picture was th at which most closely imitated nature, I should assume that art could only pleas e by imitating nature; and I should cast out of the pale of criticism those part s of works of art which are not imitative, that is to say, intrinsic beauties of color and form, and those works of art wholly, which, like the Arabesques of Ra ffaelle in the Loggias, are not imitative at all. Now, I want a definition of ar t wide enough to include all its varieties of aim. I do not say, therefore, that the art is greatest which gives most pleasure, because perhaps there is some ar t whose end is to teach, and not to please. I do not say that the art is greates t which teaches us most, because perhaps there is some art whose end is to pleas e, and not to teach. I do not say that the art is greatest which imitates best, because perhaps there is some art whose end is to create and not to imitate. But I say that the art is greatest which conveys to the mind of the spectator, by a ny means whatsoever, the greatest number of the greatest ideas; and I call an id ea great in proportion as it is received by a higher faculty of the mind, and as it mere fully occupies, and in occupying, exercises and exalts, the faculty by which it is received.

If this, then, be the definition of great art, that of a great artist natura lly follows. He is the greatest artist who has embodied, in the sum of his works , the greatest number of the greatest ideas.

小小伟人

奥利弗·哥尔德斯密斯

奥利弗·哥尔德斯密斯（1730—1774），英国剧作家、诗人、散文家。主要作品有小说《威克菲尔德牧师》，喜剧《曲身求爱》，诗歌《荒村》等。其散文风格平易近人，风趣幽默，本篇文章正体现了这种风格。

在翻阅本地报纸的时候，我计算了一下，在不到半年的时间里，这里至少出了25名伟人，17名非常伟大的人，9名非常杰出的人。报上说，这些人都会受到后人的敬仰；他们显赫的名字将为世世代代所惊叹。让我想想——如果半年出46名伟人，那一年下来就有92名。我不知道后来的人怎么可能记住这么多的伟人，也不知道将来人们除了背诵伟人名册之外，还有没有其他的事情要操心。

公司的总裁开始演讲了，他马上被当成伟人记录下来；平庸的学者压缩他的著作出对开本了，很快也成为伟人；诗人用押韵的形式把陈旧的感伤串连起来，一时间也成为伟人。无论受到仰慕的对象多么渺小，身后总会有一群更加渺小的仰慕者跟随。随行的人们一声欢呼，他便大步走向伟大，得意洋洋地回头看看那群追随者，一路领略各式各样古怪、离奇、荒诞和自命不凡的渺小者。

昨天，有位先生请我吃饭，他保证请我吃一块鹿的腰胴肉、一只甲鱼，并且晋见—位伟人。我如约而至。鹿肉味道不错，甲鱼也很好，但是，那个伟人却让人难以忍受。我刚一开口说话，立刻就遭到他的厉声驳斥。为了挽回些面子，我试图接二连三地发起进攻，却又被稀里糊涂地击退。我决定再次从战壕发起冲锋，把谈论的焦点转到中国政府上来。即使在这个问题上，他还是一如既往地断言、斥责、反驳。天啊，我想，这个人竟然装作比我还了解中国！我朝四下里望望，想看看有谁站在我这一边，但是，每只眼睛都敬慕地凝视着这位伟人。因此，我想自己还是安安静静地坐着，在其后的谈话里当个好好先生才是上策。

一个人一旦拥有了一批仰慕者，他就会做出自认为合理其实非常荒唐的事；别人还以为他的言行都是感情的升华或者是大智若愚。假如他违背了常识，就算把茶壶当成烟盒，也会有人辩解说，那是因为他在专心致志地思考大事：要是他们的言谈举止跟常人无异，那他们就跟常人一样算不上伟人了。伟大这个概念涵盖了某种奇特的东西，因为对于跟我们非常相似的事物，我们很少会感到惊讶。

鞑靼人立喇嘛，最先考虑的是把他放在寺庙里的阴暗角落，让他若隐若现地坐在那里，调整手、嘴唇和眼睛的活动；但最重要的是，他必须做到庄严和肃静。然而这只是把他奉为神明的序曲：一批使者被派到民间去，称赞他是非常虔诚、庄严、热爱混沌未开的众生；人们听信了使者的话，就把喇嘛当作偶像顶礼膜拜；他一动不动地接受人们的称颂，于是成为神，从此由下面的僧人用那不朽的勺子喂养。这个国家也可以使用相同的办法制造伟人。偶像只需把自己藏起来，然后派出手下的小使者为他高唱赞歌，不管是政治家还是作家，都会立即被列入伟人名单；如果时兴赞美，如果他对公众谨小慎微地掩盖了自身的渺小，他会一直受到赞美。

我游历过许多国家，也去过无数的城市，但没有诞生过十一二位这种小伟人的城市，我还从来没有见识过。他们都认为自己是世界闻名的，并且互相恭维对方的伟大。如果有两个这样的人相互客套、相互吹捧的时候，是非常有趣的。我曾见到过这样一件事：一位德国医生把一位修道士大肆赞扬了一番，在场的人们都把他当作了世上最有智慧的人；然后，修道士又反过来把医生恭维了一番，跟他平分了这份美誉。于是，这两人在众人的掌声中阔步离去。

过分的赞美不仅仅陪伴着我们伟人的生前，甚至也会不多不少地伴随他进入坟墓。经常会有下面事情发生：他的一个小小的崇拜者因为他这个大人物而取得成功，于是把他的生平和著作编成年表。把这称之为炉火边和安乐椅之间的人生革命，可能是恰当的。我们从这份年表中可以知道，这位伟人是哪年出生的，早年什么时候就表现出了不同寻常的天分和勤奋的迹象，以及他的伯母和母亲所收集的他小时候说过的一些妙语。第二本书会介绍他上大学时的情况，书中告诉我们，他在学业上取得了非常惊人进步，补袜子的技术非常高超，而且有用纸包书保护封面的新发明。紧接着，他又在文学界崭露头角，出版了对开本的书。现在，伟人成熟了，他的作品被所有喜欢收藏珍本的人争相购买，各种学术团体竞相邀请他参加；他跟某位拉丁名字很长的外国人辩论并战胜对手，得到几位严肃的大作家的赞扬；他特别喜欢吃猪肉蘸鸡蛋沙司，他成为一家文学俱乐部的主席并在荣誉到达巅峰时去世。他们是多么幸福啊，因为某个小小的忠实随从，不仅不会抛弃他们，而且准备与每个反对者辩论，当着反对者的面歌颂他们；同时准备在他们生前渲染他们的骄傲，在他们死后美化他们的品行。至于你跟我，朋友，因为没有谦恭的追随者相伴，我们现在不是伟人，将来也不可能成为伟人，而且也不在乎自己是否是个伟人，但是，我们至少可以争取做一个拥有平常心的老实人。

A Little Great Man

Oliver Goldsmith

In reading the newspapers here, I have reckoned up not less than twenty fiv e great men, seventeen very great men, and nine very extraordinary men in less t han the compass of half a year. These, say the gazettes, are the men that poster ity are to gaze at with admiration; these the names that fame will be employed i n holding up for the astonishment of succeeding ages. Let me see — forty six g reat men in half a year, amounts to just ninety two in a year. — I wonder how posterity will be able to remember them all, or whether the people, in future ti mes, will have any other business to mind, but that of getting the catalogue by heart.

Does the mayor of a corporation make a speech? He is instantly set down for a great man. Does a pedant digest his common place book into a folio? he quickly becomes great: Does a poet siring up trite sentiments in rhyme? he also becomes the great man of the hour. How diminutive soever the object of adminition， eac h is followed by a erowd of still more diminutive adminers. The shout begins in his train, onward he marches towards immortality, looks back at the pursuing cro wd with self satisfaction; catching all the oddities, the whimsies, the absurdi ties, and the littlenesses of conscious greatness, by the way.

I was yesterday invited by a gentleman to dinner,who promised that our ente rtainment should consist of an haunch of venison, a turtle, and a great man. I c ame, according to appointment. The venison was fine, the turtle good, but the gr eat man insupportable. The moment I ventured to speak, I was at once contradicte d with a snap. I attempted, by a second and a third assault, to retrieve my lost reputation, but was still beat back with confusion. I was resolved to attack hi m once more from entrenchment, and turned the conversation upon the government o f China: but even here he asserted, snapped, and contradicted as before. Heavens , thought I, this man pretends to know China even better than myself! I looked r ound to see who was on my side, but every eye was fixed in admiration on the gre at man; I therefore, at last thought proper to sit silent, and act the pretty ge ntleman during the ensuing conversation.

When a man has once secured a circle of admirers, he may be as ridiculous he re as he thinks proper; and it all passes for elevation of sentiment, or learned absence. If he transgresses the common forms of breeding, mistakes even a teapo t for a tobacco box, it is said, that his thoughts are fixed on more important objects：to speak and act like the rest of mankind is to be no greater than they . There is something of oddity in the very idea of greatness; for we are seldom astonished at a thing very much resembling ourselves.

When the Tartars make a Lama, their first care is to place him in a dark cor ner of the temple; here he is to sit half concealed from view, to regulate the m otion of his hands, lips, and eyes; but, above ail, he is enjoined gravity and s ilence. This, however, is but the prelude to his apotheosis: a set of emissaries are dispatched among the people to cry up his piety, gravity, and love of raw f lesh; the people take them at their word, approach the Lama, now become an idol, with the most humble prostration: he receives their addresses without motion, c ommences a god, and is ever after fed by his priests with the spoon of immortali ty. The same receipt in this country serves to make a great man. The idol only k eeps close, sends out his little emissaries to be hearty in his praise; and stra ight, whether statesman or author, he is set down in the list of fame, continuin g to be praised while it is fashionable to praise, or while he prudently keeps h is minuteness, concealed from the public.

I have visited many countries, and have been in cities without number, yet n ever did I enter a town which could not produce ten or twelve of those little gr eat men; all fancying themselves known to the rest of the world, and complimenti ng each other upon their extensive reputation. It is amusing enough when two of those domestic prodigies of learning mount the stage of ceremony, and give and t ake praise from each other. I have been present when a German doctor, for having pronounced a panegyric upon a certain monk, was thought the most ingenious man in the world; till the monk soon after divided this reputation by returning the compliment; by which means they both marched off with universal applause.

The same degree of underserved adulation that attends our great man while li ving, often also follows him to tomb. It frequently happens that one of his litt le admirers sits down big with the important subject, and is delivered of the hi story of his life and writings. This may properly be called the revolutions of a life between the fireside and the easy chair. In this we learn, the year in wh ich he was born, at what an early age he gave symptoms of uncommon genius and ap plication, together with some of his smart sayings, collected by his aunt and mo ther, while yet but a boy. The next book introduces him to the University, where we are informed of his amazing progress in learning, his excellent skill in dar ning stockings, and his new invention for papering books to save the covers. He next makes his appearance in the republic of letters, and publishes his folio1. Now the colossus is reared, his works are eagerly bought up by all the purchaser s of scarce books. The learned societies invite him to become a member; he dispu tes against some foreigner with a long Latin name, conquers in the controversy, is complimented by several authors of gravity and importance, is excessively fon d of egg sauce with his pig, becomes president of a literary club, and dies in the meridian of his glory. Happy they, who thus have some little faithful attend ant, who never forsakes them, but prepares to wrangle and to praise against ever y opposer; at once ready to increase their pride while living, and their charact er when dead. For you and I, my friend, who have no humble admirer thus to atten d us, we, who neither are, nor ever will be great men, and who do not much care whether we are great men or no, at least let us strive to be honest men, and to have common sense.

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:36:14

爱之絮语

佚名

设想男人是从火星上来的，女人是从金星上来的。很久以前的一天，火星人用望远镜张望远方时，发现了金星人，这匆匆一瞥把火星人心中沉睡的感情唤醒了。他们对这种感情从未知晓。坠入爱河的火星人很快发明了太空旅行，飞往金星。金星上的女人们张开双臂迎接他们的到来。火星男人与金星女人之间的爱情真是奇妙。他们愉快地共同生活，一起工作，同甘共苦，他们都忘了彼此是来自不同的星球，忘了本应具有的差异。一天早晨，火星人和金星人完全忘却了彼此的不同。也就是从那天起，冲突开始在男人与女人之间发生。

女人抱怨男人最多的地方是男人不会倾听。当女人说话时，男人不是完全不理睬，就是稍听片刻，掂量一下困扰女人的问题，然后自傲地抛给女人一个解决的办法以安慰她就算完事。无论女人抱怨了多少次，说他没有倾听，他就是不懂，依然故伎重演。女人需要同情，可男人以为她需要的是解决办法。

男人最常抱怨女人总试图改造自己。女人爱上男人时，便觉得帮助他成长是自己的责任，并尽力想帮助男人改进做事的方式。女人成立了家庭促进会，而男人就是首要目标。无论男人怎样拒绝她的帮助，女人都一再坚持，伺机帮助他或是告诉他该做什么。女人认为自己是在调教男人，而男人却觉得自己被控制了。男人崇尚权力、个人能力和成功。他们本是以取得成功的能力作为给自己的定义。对他们而言，实现目标举足轻重，因为这能证明他们自身的能力，会让他们有良好的感觉。而男人要想自我感觉不错，就必须独立自主地取得种种成功。

在男人看来，不请自来的建议就是认为他们不知道该做什么，不能凭独自的力量获取胜利。他们对此很恼火，因为个人能力对于他们非常重要。然而，如果男人确实需要帮助，取得帮助也是明智的举措。在这种情况下，他会和一位自己敬重的人谈论自己的困难。男人谈论困难就是请求他人提供意见。被请求的人因此会颇感荣幸，并顺其自然地抒发感想，听对方诉说，然后提供宝贵的建议。男人的这种习惯在一定程度上导致了他们在倾听女人谈论自己的情感和困惑时，本能地提供解决方案.

女人却对这些不重视。她们是在感情和与人相处的好坏以及交流中确定自我的感觉。女人在诉说感情和彼此联系中获得满足。交流对于她们至关重要，分担私人感情比达到目的重要得多，让她们获得满足感的巨大源泉之一就是交谈与联系。男人看重的是目的，女人看重的是关系。她们更在意对善意、友爱和关怀的表达。女人具有敏锐的直觉，能处处为他人的需求和情感着想是她们引以为豪的事。不经邀请而主动向同伴提供帮助，被她们看做是伟大的爱的展示。女人不洞悉男人的天性，就很容易在不知不觉中伤害了挚爱的男人。

爱情神奇而微妙，只有大家都记住男女之间的差异，爱情才会永恒。

Whispering Love

Anonymous

Imagine that men are from Mars and women are from Venus. One day, long ago, the Martians, looking through their telescopes, discovered the Venusians. Just g limpsing the Venusians awakened feelings they had never known. They fell in love and quickly invented space travel and flew to Venus. The Venusians welcomed the Martians with open arms. The love between the Venusians and Martians was magical. They delighted in being together, doing things together and sharing together. Both the Martians and Venusians forgot that they were from different planets, a nd were supposed to be different. And one morning, everything they had learned a bout their differences was erased from their memory. And since that day, men and women have been in conflict.

The most frequently expressed complaint women have about men is that men don 't listen. Either a man completely ignores her when she speaks, or he listens fo r a few beats, assesses what's bothering her, and then he proudly puts on his Mr . Fix it hat, and offers her a solution to make her feel better. No matter how many times she tells him that he's not listening, he doesn't get it, and he keep s doing the same thing. She wants empathy, he thinks she wants solutions.

The most frequently expressed complaint men have about women is that women a re always trying to change them. When a woman loves a man, she feels responsible to assist him in growing and tries to help him improve the way he does things. She forms the Home Improvement Committee, and he becomes her primary focus. No m atter how much he resists her help, she persists, waiting for an opportunity to help him or to tell him what to do. She thinks she's nurturing him, while he fee ls he's being controlled. Martians value power, competency, efficiency, and achi evement. Their sense of self is defined through their ability to achieve results. Achieving goals is very important to a Martian, because it's the way for him to prove his competence and thus feel good about himself. And for him to feel goo d about himself, he must achieve these goals alone, by himself. To offer a man u nsolicited advice is to presume that he doesn't know what to do or that he can't do it on his own.

Men are very touchy about this, because the issue of competence is so very i mportant to them. However, if he truly does need help, then it's a sign of wisdo m to get it. In this case, he'll find someone he respects and then talk about hi s problem. Talking about a problem on Mars is an invitation for advice. Another Martian feels honored by the opportunity. Automatically, he puts on his Mr. Fix it hat, listens for a few beats, and then offers some jewels of advice. This M artian custom is one of the reasons men instinctively offer solutions when a wom an talks about her feelings or about her problems.

Venusians have different values. Their sense of self is defined through thei r feelings and the quality of their relationships and their communication. They experience fulfillment through sharing and relating. Communication is of primary importance. To share their personal feelings is much more important than achiev ing goals or success. Talking and relating to one another is a source of tremend ous fulfillment. Instead of being goal oriented, women are relationship orient ed. They are more concerned with expressing their goodness, their love, their ca ring. Venusians are very intuitive. They pride themselves on being considerate o f the needs and feelings of others. A sign of great love is to offer help and as sistance to another Venusian without even being asked. Without this insight into the nature of men, it's very easy for a woman to unknowingly and unintentionally hurt and offend the man she loves most.

Love is magical, and it can last if we remember our differences.

爱是艰难的

勒内·马利亚·里尔克

勒内·马利亚·里尔克（1875—1926），奥地利诗人。大学攻读哲学、艺术与文学史。里尔克的诗歌尽管充满孤独痛苦情绪和悲观虚无思想，但艺术造诣很高。本篇节选自他的书信集《给一位青年诗人的十封信》。

爱，很好。但爱是艰难的，因为我们去爱别人：这也许是神给予我们的最艰难、最重大的任务，是最后的考验与测试，是最崇高的工作，别的工作都不过是为此而做的准备。所以那些一切都还刚刚开始的青年们还不能去爱，他们必须要学习。必须用他们整个的生命、用一切的力量，用集聚了他们寂寞、痛苦和荣誉感的心去学习爱。在学习时期这个长久而专注的过程中，爱就会永远地铭刻心扉——深深的寂寞中孤独地等待，是为了所爱的人。爱的要义并不是什么倾心、献身、或二人的结合（那会是怎样的一种结合呢？是一种糊涂的、不负责任的、轻率的结合）。它对于个人是一种崇高的动力，是去成熟并实现自身的圆满，去完成一个世界，是为了另一个人而完成一个自己的世界，这是一个艰巨的、不可妥协的目标，用坚定的信念，向远方召唤。青年们应把爱当作他们的课业、他们的工作的意义，并在其中（“昼夜不停地探索、锤炼”）去使用那些给与他们的爱。至于倾心、献身，以及结合，还不是他们所能做的（他们还需长时间地克制、积累），那是最后的终点，也许是我们现在还几乎不能达到的境界。

Love is Difficult

Rainer Maria Rilke

It is also good to love: because love is difficult. For one human being to l ove another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been e ntrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation. That is why young people, who are beginner s in everything, are not yet capable of love: it is something they must learn. With their whole being, with all their forces, gathered around their solitary, an xious, upward beating heart, they must learn to love. But learning time is alw ays a long, secluded time ahead and far on into life, is solitude, a heightened and deepened kind of aloneness for the person who loves. Loving does not at firs t mean merging, surrendering, and uniting with another person (for what would a union be of two people who are unclarified, unfinished, and still incoherent, it is a high inducement for the individual to ripen, to become something in himsel f, to become world, to become world in himself for the sake of another person; it is a great, demanding claim on him, something that chooses him and calls him t o vast distances. Only in this sense, as the task of working on themselves (“to hearken and to hammer day and night”), may young people use the love that is gi ven to them. Merging and surrendering and every kind of communion is not for the m (who must still, for a long, long time, save and gather themselves); it is the ultimate, is perhaps that for which human lives are as yet barely large enough.

乔治·戈登·拜伦勋爵致

特蕾莎·古奇奥尼伯爵夫人

乔治·戈登·拜伦

乔治·戈登·拜伦（1788—1824），英国浪漫主义诗人，出身贵族，10岁时继承了叔祖男爵爵位和祖传领地。曾入剑桥大学学习，深受启蒙思想影响。他的诗作表现了对上流社会丑恶现象的蔑视。

我最亲爱的特蕾莎：

我在你的花园里把这本书看完了。我的心上人，你当时不在这里，不然我也不可能把它看完。这是你最喜欢的书，作者是我的一个朋友。你不懂这些英文，别人也不懂，这就是为什么我没有用意大利文写信。但你会认出热切地爱着你的人的笔迹，也会猜出在看你的书时，我只能想到爱。我现在和今后的生命都包含在这个字里。这个字在世界各国的语言中都是美丽的，而在你的语言中最美丽——我的爱——我感到我就在这儿，恐怕今后也会在这里——至于为什么，那要由你来决定；你的双手掌握了我的命运；而你，芳龄17的女子，出修道院只有两年。我倒真想如果你留在那儿反而好了——或至少相逢在你没有嫁人之时。

但一切都已为时过晚。我爱你，你也爱我——至少你是这样说的，你

Lord George Gord on Byron to Countess Teresa Guiccioli

George Gordon Byron

Bologna

Aug. 25th, 1819

My Dearest Teresa,

I have read this book in your garden: My love, you were absent, or else I co uld not have read it. It is a favorite book of yours, and the writer was a frien d of mine. You will not understand these English words, and others will not unde rstand them, which is the reason I have not scrawled them in Italian. But you wi ll recognize the handwriting of him who passionately loved you, and you will div ine that, over a book which was yours, he could only think of love. In that word , beautiful in all languages, but most so in yours — Amor Mio — is comprised m y existence here and hereafter. I feel I exist here, and I fear that I shall exi st here after — to what purpose you will decide; my destiny rests with you, and you are a woman, seventeen years of age, and two out of a convent. I wish that you had stayed there, with all my heart — or at least that I had never met you in your married state.

But all this is too late. I love you, and you love me — at least you say so , and act as if you did so, which last is a great consolation in all events. But I more than love you, and cannot ease to love you.

Think of me sometimes when the Alps and the ocean divide us — but they neve r will, unless you wish it.

Byron

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:36:31

贝婷·布伦塔诺致歌德

贝婷·布伦塔诺

贝婷·布伦塔诺（1785—1859），德国女作家，本名伊丽莎白·布伦塔诺，常与贝多芬和歌德通信。1835年，其《歌德与一个孩子的通信》一书发表。她是当时德国革命文艺运动 “年轻的德国”的热情支持者。

亲爱的歌德：

你了解我的心；你明白我心里只有向往、思念、预感和渴望；你生活在精神的世界里，它们给你神圣的智慧。你一定要滋养给我的心智。我以前不曾懂得向你索求，你都已经给了我。我的才智很浅薄，但我的爱情却很深厚；你一定要使它们得到平衡。爱情往前发展，理智却不曾跟随，这样的爱不能平静。你明白我有多爱你；你友好、温柔、痴情。请告诉我，我的心在何时失去了平衡。我会明白你无声的暗示。

你落在我身上的注视、你印在我唇上的热吻，都向我说明了这一切。对于我这样的人来说，这令人高兴的眼神和热吻使我懂得了更多。我相隔很远，我所给你的注视和热吻，对我来说已逐渐陌生。我一定要回忆在你怀抱里的温柔时光。于是我开始哭泣，但不知什么时候眼泪已流干。是的，在深深的静谧之中，他对我一往情深（我就是这样想的）。难道我就不应该怀着永不动摇的深情，和他遥通心声吗？啊，想一想我的心要对你说些什么吧！我要对你没完没了地耳鬓厮磨。我希望此生惟一的幸福就是你对我的情意连绵不绝。啊，亲爱的朋友，我只需要你的暗示，说你的心里只有我。

爱你至永远的

贝婷

1808年

Bettina Brentano to Goethe

Bettina Brentano

1808

Dear Goethe,

You know my heart; you know that all there is desire, thought, boding and lo nging; you live among spirits, and they give you divine wisdom. You must nourish me; you give all that in advance which I do not understand to ask for. My mind has a small embrace, my love a large one; you must bring them to a balance. Love cannot be quiet till the mind matches its growth; you are matched to my love; y ou are friendly, kind, and indulgent; let me know when my heart is off the balan ce. I understand your silent signs.

A look from your eyes into mine, a kiss from you upon my lips, instructs me in all, what might seem delightful to learn, to one who, like me, had experience from those. I am far from you; mine are become strange to me. I must ever retur n in thought to that hour when you hold me in the soft fold of your arm. Then I begin to weep, but the tears dry again unawares. Yes, he reaches with his love ( thus I think) over to me in this concealed stillness; and should not I, with my eternal undisturbed longing, reach to him in the distance? Ah, conceive what my heart has to say to you; it overflows with soft sighs all whisper to you. Be my only happiness on earth your friendly will to me. O, dear friend, give me but a sign that you are conscious of me.

Yours forever,

Bettina

被爱的人

佚名

如今，“被爱”的人有各种各样的形象。最容易刺激恋情发生的人往往是异国他乡的人。一个人年老力衰的老爷爷，很可能依然深爱着二十年前的某个午后在街上碰到的一个陌生女孩。一个传教士可能爱上一个堕落的女子。被爱的那个人或许会心怀不忠、油头粉面并且沾染恶习。对这些缺点，爱他的人也会和其他人一样明白，但这些丝毫也不会影响爱情之火的燃烧。一个最普通的人，也会成为美如沼泽的毒百合的炽烈爱慕的对象。一个好人，很可能激起凶暴又品质恶劣的人的爱恋；一个胡言乱语的疯子，很可能让某人的灵魂产生一种温柔而质朴的田园情调。所以，任何爱情的价值或品质，都是由施爱者本人所决定的。

正是基于这个原因，大多数人宁愿选择“爱人”而不是选择“被爱”。几乎每个人都想成为一个施爱者。大概来说，有一点奇怪的是，大多数人难以承受被爱的状态。被爱者有很明确的理由对施爱者既怕又恨，因为施爱者总是想方设法地要把被爱者看得清清楚楚。施爱者总渴望与被爱者尽可能有一些关系，尽管这样做只会给他自己带来痛苦。

The Beloved

Anonymous

Now, the beloved can also be of any deion. The mostoutlandish people can be the stimulus for love. A man may be a doddering great grandfather and stil l love only a strange girl he saw in the streets of Cheehaw one afternoon two de cades past. The preacher may love a fallen woman. The beloved may be treacherous , greasy headed and given to evil habits. Yes, and the lover may see this as cl early as anyone else — but that does not affect the evolution of his love one w hit. A most mediocre person can be the object of a love which is wild, extravaga nt, and beautiful as the poison lilies of the swamp. A good man may be the stimu lus for a love both violent and debased, or a jabbering madman may bring about i n the soul of someone a tender and simple idyll. Therefore, the value and quality of any love is determined solely by the lover himself.

It is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved. Almos teveryone wants to be the lover. And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many. The beloved fears and hat es the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to s trip bare his beloved. The lover craves any possible relation with the beloved, even if this experience can cause him only pain.

拿破仑·波拿巴致玛丽·约瑟芬

拿破仑·波拿巴

拿破仑·波拿巴（1769—1821），法国政治家，军事家,法兰西第一帝国和百日王朝的皇帝，曾率军征服了几乎整个欧洲。

亲爱的玛丽：

我收到你的信了，我爱慕的人儿。你的信使我充满欢乐……自离开你以来，我一直愁眉不展、郁郁寡欢。

我惟一的幸福就是伴随着你。我不停地回想着你的吻、你的泪以及那甜蜜的嫉妒。我迷人的约瑟芬的魅力如同一团炽热的火那样在我的心里燃烧着。我何时才能在你身边度过每一分、每一刻，除了爱你以外，什么也不做；除了爱你、向你倾诉我对你的爱并向你证明我爱你时的那种愉快，我什么都不想。我不能相信不久之前爱过你，从那以后我感到自己对你的爱增加了一千倍。自从我们相识以后，我一天比一天更爱慕你。这恰恰证明了拉·布鲁耶尔说的“爱总是突如其来”多么地不合实际啊。啊，但愿我能看到你有一点点的美中不足，但愿你能少几分优雅、少几分姣好、再少几分妩媚吧。但是坚决不要嫉妒，坚决不要泪水。你的泪水可以使我神魂颠倒——它们使我血液沸腾、燃烧。请相信我，我每时每刻都在思念着你，因为你，这思念绵绵不绝，我所有的意愿都顺从你。你要好好休息，愿你早日康复。请回到我身边吧，不管怎么说，在我们谢世之前，我们应当可以这么说：“我们曾拥有过那么多幸福的日子啊!”给你千百万个甜蜜的吻，一并吻你的爱犬。

Napoleon Bonaparte to Marie Josephine

Napoleon Bonaparte

Dear Marie,

I have your letter, my adorable love. It has filled my heart with joy… since I left you I have been sad all the time.

My only happiness is near you. I go over endlessly in my thought your kisses, your tears, your delicious jealousy. The charm of my wonderful Josephine kindl es a living, blazing fire in my heart and senses. When shall I be able to pass e very minute near you, with nothing to do but to love you and nothing to think of but the pleasure of telling you of it and giving you proof of it? I loved you s ome time ago; since then I feel that I love you a thousand times better. Ever si nce I have known you I adore you more every day. That proves how wrong is that s aying of La Bruyere “Love comes all of a sudden.” Ah, let me see some of your f aults; be less beautiful, less graceful, less tender, less good. But never be je alous and never shed tears. Your tears send me out of my mind they set my very blood on fire. Believe me that it is utterly impossible for me to have a single thought that is not yours, a single fancy that is not Submissive to your will. Rest well. Restore your health. Come back to me and then at any rate before we die we ought to be able to say: “We were happy for so very many days!” Millions o f kisses even to your dog.

论爱情

弗朗西斯·培根

弗朗西斯·培根 (1561—1626)，英国著名的哲学家和科学家。他在文艺复兴时期的巨人中被尊称为哲学史和科学史上划时代的人物。培根是近代哲学史上首先提出经验论原则的哲学家，对近代科学的建立起了积极的推动作用，对人类哲学史、科学史都作出了重大的历史贡献。为此，罗素尊称培根为“给科学研究程序进行逻辑组织化的先驱”。

舞台上的爱情往往要比生活中的爱情美好得多。因为在舞台上，爱情只是喜剧和悲剧的素材，但在人生中，爱情却常常招来不幸。它有时像那引诱人的魔女，有时又像那复仇的女神。

你应该看到，一切真正伟大的人物（无论是古代、现代，只要是其英名能永铭于人类记忆中的），没有一个人是因爱情而发狂的；完成伟大事业的人中只有罗马的安东尼和克劳底亚是例外。虽然前者本性就荒淫好色，但后者却是足智多谋的人。这说明爱情不仅会占领开明宽广的胸怀，也能闯入壁垒森严的心灵——只要你抵御不严的话。

埃辟克拉斯曾说过一句傻话：“人生不过是一场戏。”似乎人类不应去努力追求高尚的事业，而只应像玩偶般地逢场作戏。虽然做爱情的奴隶与那些只顾吃喝的禽兽是不同的，但毕竟也只是做皮肉色相的奴隶，而上帝赐人以眼睛是有更高尚的用途的。

过度地追求爱情，必然会损害人本身的价值。例如，只有在爱情中，那种浮夸献媚的词令才大行其道。而在其他场合，这样的词令只能招人耻笑。古人有一句名言： “ 人们总是把最大的奉承留给自己。”——只有对情人的奉承要算例外。因为甚至那些最骄傲的人，也甘愿在情人面前自轻自贱。所以古人说得好：“就是神在爱情中也难保持聪明。”情人的这种弱点不仅在外人眼中是明显的，就是在被追求者的眼中也会很明显——除非她（他）也在追求他（她）。所以，爱情的代价就是如此，如果得不到回爱，就会得到深藏心底的轻蔑，这是永恒的真理。

由此可见，人们应当对这种感情十分警惕。因为它不但会使人丧失其他，而且可以使人迷失自己。甚至更重大的损失，古代诗人早告诉我们，那些海伦的追求者，放弃了财富和智慧。

不知是什么原因，许多军人会更容易堕入情网，也许这正如他们嗜爱饮酒一样，危险的生活更需要欢乐的补偿。

人们心中可能普遍都有一种博爱的倾向，若不是集中于某个专一的对象身上，就必将施之于更广泛的大众，他将成为仁善的人，像有的僧侣那样。

夫妻的爱，可以使人类繁衍；朋友的爱，可以给人以帮助。但那使人荒淫纵欲的爱，只会使人堕落毁灭！

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:36:47

Of Love

Fransics Bacon

The stage is more beholding to love, than the life of man. For as to the stage, love is ever matter of comedies, and now and then of tragedies; but in life it doth much mischief; sometimes like a siren, sometimes like a fury.

You may observe, that amongst all the great and worthy persons (whereof the memory remaineth, either ancient or recent) there is not one, that hath been tra nsported to the mad degree of love: which shows that great spirits, and great bu siness, do keep out this weak passion. You must except, nevertheless, Marcus Ant onius, the half partner of the empire of Rome, and Appius Claudius, the decemvir and lawgiver; whereof the former was indeed a voluptuous man, and inordinate; b ut the latter was an austere and wise man: and therefore it seems (though rarely ) that love can find entrance, not only into an open heart, but also into a hear t well fortified, if watch be not well kept.

It is a poor saying of Epicurus, Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus; a s if man, made for the contemplation of heaven, and all noble objects, should do nothing but kneel before a little idol, and make himself a subject, though not of the mouth (as beasts are), yet of the eye; which was given him for higher pur poses.

It is a strange thing, to note the excess of this passion, and how it braves the nature, and value of things, by this; that the speaking in a perpetual hype rbole, is comely in nothing but in love. Neither is it merely in the phrase; for whereas it hath been well said, that the arch flatterer, with whom all the pet ty flatterers have intelligence, is a man's self; certainly the lover is more. F or there was never proud man thought so absurdly well of himself, as the lover d oth of the person loved; and therefore it was well said. That it is impossible t o love, and to be wise. Neither doth this weakness appear to others only, and no t to the party loved; but to the loved most of all, except the love be reciproqu e. For it is a true rule, that love is ever rewarded, either with the reciproque , or with an inward and secret contempt.

By how much the more, men ought to beware of this passion, which loseth not only other things, but itself! As for the other losses, the poet's relation doth well figure them: that he that preferred Helena, quitted the gifts of Juno and Pallas. For whosoever esteemeth too much of amorous affection, quitteth both ric hes and wisdom.

I know not how, but martial men are given to love: I think, it is but as the y are given to wine; for perils commonly ask to be paid in pleasures.

There is in man's nature, a secret inclination and motion, towards love of o thers, which if it be not spent upon some one or a few, doth naturally spread it self towards many, and maketh men become humane and charitable; as it is seen so metime in friars.

Nuptial love maketh mankind; friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love co rrupteth, and embaseth it.

维克多·雨果致阿黛勒·福契

维克多·雨果

维克多·雨果（1802—1885），法国伟大的浪漫主义作家，13岁即开始写作。他的著作影响深远，深刻反映了19世纪法国社会生活和政治斗争中的重大事件。主要作品有《巴黎圣母院》、《悲惨世界》、《笑面人》、《九三年》等。

我亲爱的阿黛勒：

你的几句话就改变了我的心情。是的，你可以随意处置我。明天，如果你那温柔的声音和可爱的嘴唇的温馨都不能使我复苏，我就真的一命呜呼了。今夜，我躺下时的心情与昨夜是多么不同啊！昨天，阿黛勒，因为我相信你不爱我了，死神降临是我求之不得的。

但我还是对自己说，就算她真的不爱我了，就算我已经没有任何地方值得她去爱了，就算没有了她的爱，余生将索然无味，难道因此就要死去吗？我活着难道是为了自己的幸福吗？不！不论她爱不爱我，我的此生都是献给她的。我有什么权利敢要求她的爱？难道我能胜过天使或神灵？我爱她，不错，即使没有回报；我也甘愿为她牺牲一切，甚至放弃被她爱的希望。为了她的一个微笑，为了她的一次顾盼，我愿意为她做任何事。我有别的选择吗？我活着不就是为了爱她吗？就算她对我漠不关心，甚至恨我，那只是我的不幸，如此而已。只要她幸福，又有什么关系呢?是的，如果她不能爱我，我能责备的只有我自己。我的天职就是紧紧跟随她，用我的生命去保护她；甘心做为她做抵御一切危险的屏障；把头颅献给她做垫脚石，我要她永远无忧无虑，不祈求奖励，不希望报偿。如果她能间或发发善心，对她的奴隶投来一丝怜悯的目光，在需要时记得他，那就是他莫大的幸福！唉！只要她肯让我为满足她的小小愿望甚至任性而付出生命；只要她允许我满怀崇敬地亲吻她可爱的足迹；只要她同意在生活历程的艰难时刻依靠我，我便得到了祈望的惟一幸福，因为我乐于为她牺牲一切。她受过我的恩惠吗？我爱她是她的过失吗？难道因为我爱她，她就非爱我不成？不，她可以玩弄我的感情，以怨报德，对我的崇拜不屑一顾。我也根本无权对我的天使有丝毫抱怨。尽管她趾高气扬，我也不应当停止向她倾诉衷肠。即使我每天都为她做出牺牲，临终时我也无法对她偿以还不清的欠债，因为有了她我才活了下来。

我心爱的阿黛勒，这就是我昨夜此刻的心绪，今天还是这样。不同的是今天的想法掺进了幸福的信念——如此洪福，想到它，我幸福地颤抖，几乎不敢相信。

这么说，你真是爱我了，阿黛勒？告诉我吧，我能相信这醉人的福音吗？假如我能一辈子照顾你，又能使你像我一样幸福，并使自己得到像我爱你般的你的爱，难道你不认为我会高兴得发狂吗？啊，你的信给我的幸福恢复了我的平静。一千次地谢谢你，阿黛勒，我最心爱的天使，但愿我能像匍匐在神像前那样匍匐在你的脚下。你给了我多么大的幸福啊！再见，晚安，我将在梦中与你欢聚！

好好睡吧，让你的丈夫接受你答应他的12个吻，还要加上你没有答应的。

永远忠实于你的

维克多·雨果

1820年1月

Victor Hugo to Adele Foucher

Victor Hugo

Jan.1820

My beloved Adele,

A few words from you have again changed the state of my mind. Yes, you can d o anything with me, and tomorrow, I should be dead indeed if the gentle sound of your voice, the tender pressure of your adored lips, does not suffice to recall the life to my body. With what different feeling to yesterday's I shall lay mys elf down tonight! Yesterday, Adele, I not longer believe in your love; the hour of death would have been welcome to me.

And yet I still said to myself, if it is true that she does not love me, if nothing in me could deserve the blessing of her love, without which there is no longer any charm in life, is that a reason for dying? Do I exist for my own pers onal happiness? No， my whole existence is devoted to her, even in spite of her. And by what right should I have dared to aspire to her love? Am I then, more th an an angel or a deity? I love her, true, even I; I am ready to sacrifice everyt hing gladly for her sake everything, even the hope of being loved by her; there is no devotedness of which I am not capable for her, for one of her smiles, for one of her looks. But could I do otherwise? Is she not the sole aim of my life? That she may show indifference to me, even hate me, will be my misfortune, that is all. What does it matter, so that it does not injure her happiness? Yes, if she cannot love me I ought to blame myself only. My duty is to keep close to her steps, to surround her existence with mine, to serve her as a barrier against all dangers; to offer her my head as a stepping stone, to place myself unceasing ly between her and all sorrows, without claiming reward, without expecting recom pense. Only too happy if she deigns some times to cast a pitying look upon her s lave, and to remember him in the hour of danger! Alas! If she only allow me to g ive my life to anticipate her every desire, all her caprices; if she but permit me to kiss with respect her adored footprints; if she but consent to lean upon me at times amidst the difficulties of life, then I shall have obtained the only happiness to which I have the presumption to aspire. Because I am ready to sacri fice all for her, does she owe me gratitude? Is it her fault that I love her? Mu st she, on that account, believe herself constrained to love me? No! She may spo rt with my devotions, repay my services with hate, and repulse my idolatry with scorn, without my having for a moment the right to complain of that angel; nor o ught I to cease for an instant to lavish upon her all that which she would disda in. And should every one of my days have been marked by some sacrifice for her, I should still, at the day of my death have discharged nothing of the infinite d ebt that my existence owes to her.

Such, my beloved Adele, were the thoughts and resolutions of my mind at this time yesterday. Today they are still the same. Only there is mingled with them the certainty of happiness—such great happiness that I cannot think of it witho ut trembling, and scarcely dare to believe in it.

Then it is true that you love me, Adele? Tell me, can I trust in this enchan ting idea? Don't you think that I shall end by becoming insane with joy if ever I can pass the whole of my life at your feet, sure of making you as happy as I s hall be myself, sure of being adored by you as you are adored by me? Oh! Your le tter has restored peace to me with happiness. A thousand thanks, Adele, my well beloved angel. Would that I could prostrate myself before you as before a divini ty. How happy you make me! Adieu, adieu, I shall pass a very happy night dreamin g of you.

Sleep well, and allow your husband to take the twelve kisses which you promi sed him besides all those yet unpromises.

Yours affectionately,

V.H.

“我爱你”

佚名

“ 我爱你”总是有许多不同的含义，而这也正好让我们了解到爱情那种令人费解的本性。第一次永远是一个惊喜、一次冒犯和一次攻击性行动，而一旦说过“我爱你” 这句话，它就只能被不断地重复下去。如果不是这样的话，那简直是无法想像的。因为当一个人不再说“我爱你”时，这本身就预示着一场危机的出现（“你为什么有好几个月没有那样说了？”）。从另一方面来看，“我爱你”也可以是一种威胁（“不要把它强加给我，你会失去我的”），或者是感情上的要挟（“我已经说过了，现在你应该做同样的表示”），或者是一种警告（“正因为我爱你，所以才甘愿忍受这些”），或者用来表达歉意（“我不是有意当着所有人的面那样说你的 ”）。它也能是一种工具——比高嗓门更有效——用来打断一次无聊或心痛的谈话。它也可以是哭泣、请求和口头屈服（“注意听我讲！”），或者是一个借口（“ 正是因为我爱你……”）。它也可以是一种伪装（“我爱你，”他低语着，并且不安地看着那扇敞开的门）。它也可能是一种攻击（“你怎么能这么对我？”），甚至意味着一种终结（“那就这样吧。很遗憾，再见”）。如果一个简单的短语有如此多的含义，那么使它如此无常多变的一定是人的感情。

“I Love You”

Anonymous

“I love you” does not always have the same meaning, and this, too, should t ell us something about the elusive nature of love. The first time it is always a surprise, an invasion, an aggressive act, but once said, “I love you” can only be repeated. It is unthinkable that it should not be said again, and again, and again. When one has not said it for a while, this may itself precipitate a cris is. (“Now why haven't you said that in all of these months! ”) On the other hand , “I love you” can also serve as a threat (“Don't push me on this; you might l ose me”), emotional blackmail (“I've said it, now you have to respond in kind”) , a warning (“It's only because I love you that I'm willing to put up with this ”), an apology (“I could not possibly have meant what I, have said to you, to y ou of all people”). It can be an instrument — more effective than the loudest n oise — to interrupt a dull or painful conversation. It can be a cry, a plea, a verbal flag (“Pay attention to me! ”) or it can be an excuse (“It's only becaus e I love you…”). It can be a disguise (“I love you, ” he whispered, looking aw kwardly askance at the open door). It can be an attack (“How can you do this to me? ”) or even an end (“So that's that. With regrets, good bye”). If this sing le phrase has so many meanings, how varied and variable must be the emotion.

约翰·济慈致范妮·布洛恩约翰·济慈

你的时候，我也能感受到你的气息和一股飘逸的温情悄然袭来。我能发现我的全部意念、我最不幸的日日夜夜非但不能丝毫削弱我对美人儿的爱，反而使我对这种爱日益痴迷，因此一想到你不在这儿就使我苦不堪言……过去，我从来没有明白过我对你萌生的爱究竟是怎么回事，我不相信会有这种爱，很怕去想它，怕它使我燃烧起来。但如果你把全部的爱都给予我，就算会有些火焰，但在欢乐的浸润中，还是能够忍受的……除了你怡然自得的眼睛、甜蜜的嘴唇和轻盈的步子，我什么也不要看。我愿能看见你生活在适合你的秉性和爱好的愉快氛围中，让我们的爱充满欢乐，不会产生烦恼和忧虑。

永远爱你的

约翰·济慈

1819年7月24日

John Keats to Fanny Brawne John Keats

Jul. 24th, 1819

My Sweet Girl,

Your letter gave me more delight than anything in the world but yourself could do; indeed, I am almost astonished that any absent one should have that luxur ious power over my senses which I feel. Even when I am not thinking of you I rec eive your influence and I feel a tenderer nature stealing over me. All my though ts, my unhappiest days and nights, have, I find, not cured me of my love of beau ty, but made it so intense that I am miserable that you are not with me... I never knew before what such a love as you have made me feel was; I did no believe in it; my fancy was afraid of it, lest it should burn me up. But if you will fully love me, though there may be some fire, 'twill not be more than we can bear wh en moistened and bedewed with pleasure…I would never see anything but pleasure in your eyes, love on your lips, and happiness in your steps. I would wish to see you among those amusements suitable to your inclinations and spirits; so that our loves might be a delight in the midst of pleasures agreeable enough, rather than resources from vexations and cares.

Yours for ever,

John Keats

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:37:12

成功是一种选择

佚名

我们每天都应该让自己做好准备，迎接可以预见的挫折和挑战。如果我们相信生活不可能是完美的，我们就能避免因一时的冲动而放弃追求。但即使你拥有坚强的意志，能够挺过生活和工作中的困难，有时你也会遭遇逆境，它将会在背后给你狠狠一击。

不管是出现经济损失，或是失去同辈及亲人的尊敬，或是遭受生命重创，这些重大挫折都会使你对自己产生自我怀疑，并且怀疑情况是否能够好转。

我们每个人都可能遭遇困境，而且它时常发生。有些大灾难不是即刻发生就是呆在角落等待时机。忽视逆境其实就是在欺骗自己。

但是你必须认识到历史上有许多事例都讲述了克服重重困难之后才获得成功的人。那些困难之大，足以粉碎他们的意志，让他们流落尘世。摩西有口吃，但他后来却成为传递上帝福音的使者。阿伯拉罕·林肯战胜了童年的困难、绝望、丧失两个儿子的痛苦以及内战中接踵而来的嘲笑，最终成为美国历史上无可置疑的最伟大的总统。海伦·凯勒早年双目失明，又是个哑巴，但是她还是对世界产生了巨大影响，而富兰克林·罗斯福则患有小儿麻痹症。

类似的例子不胜枚举。这些人不仅大胆地面对困难，而且从中学到了克服困难的宝贵经验，然后勇往直前。

Success Is a Choice

Anonymous

All of us ought to be able to brace ourselves for the predictable challenges and setbacks that crop up everyday. If we expect that life won't be perfect, we 'll be able to avoid that impulse to quit. But even if you are strong enough to persist the obstacle course of life and work, sometimes you will encounter an ad verse event that will completely knock you on your back.

Whether it's a financial loss, the loss of respect of your peers or loved on es, or some other traumatic event in your life these major setbacks leave you do ubting yourself and wondering if things can ever change for the better again.

Adversity happens to all of ns, and it happens all the time. Some form of ma jor adversity is either going to be there or it's lying in wait just around the corner. To ignore adversity is to succumb to the ultimate self delusion.

But you must recognize that history is full of examples of men and women who achieved greatness despite facing hurdles so steep that easily could have crash ed their spirit and left them lying in the dust. Moses was a stutterer, yet he was called on to be the voice of God. Abraham Lincoln overcomes a difficult child hood, depression, the death of two sons, and constant ridicule during the Civil War to become arguably our greatest president ever. Helen Keller made an impact on the world despite being deaf, dumb, and blind from an early age. Franklin Roo sevelt had polio.

There are endless examples. These were people who not only looked adversity in the face but learned valuable lessons about overcoming difficult circumstance s and were able to move ahead.

个性的表露

阿诺德·本涅特

一件认识起来很奇异也很受益的事是，一个人常常不清楚别人对他的印象是什么。是好呢,是坏呢，还是不好不坏，这些倒是能够十分准确地猜测出来——有些人甚至没有必要让你去猜测，他们差不多就讲给你听了——但是我想要说的不是这个。我想要说的远不止这个。我想要说的是，一个人头脑中对自己的印象和他本人在他朋友们头脑中的印象，往往很不一致。你曾经想到这样的事吗?——世上有那么一个诡异的人，到处跑来跑去，上街访友，又说又笑，口出怨言，大发议论，他的朋友都对他很熟悉，对他早已知根知底，对他的看法早有定论——但除了偶尔且谨慎的只言片语外，平时却很少对你透露。而那个人就是你自己。比如，你走进一家客厅去喝茶，你敢说你便能认得这个人就是你自己吗?我看不一定。很可能，你也会像客厅里的客人那样，当你难以忍受其他客人的骚扰时心里就盘算说：“这是哪个家伙，真是怪异。但愿他少讨人嫌。”你的第一个反应就是略带敌意。甚至就连你突然在一面镜子前面遇到了你自己，穿的衣服也正是你心里记得很清楚的那天的服装，怎么样，你还是会因为认出了你是你这件事而感到吃惊。还有当你有时到镜子前去整理头发时，尽管是在最清醒的大清早时刻，你不是也好像瞥见一个完全陌生的人吗？而且这陌生人还让你颇为好奇呢。如果说连形式颜色动作这类外观准确的细节都是这样，那么对于像心智和道德这种不易把握的复杂效果又将怎样呢？

有人真心实意地去努力留下一个好印象。但结果怎样呢，不过是被他的朋友们在内心深处认为他是一个刻意给人留下好印象的人。如果一切只凭着单独会一次面或见几次面，——这个人倒很能迫使另一个人接受他本人希望造成的某种印象。但是如果接受印象的人有足够的时间来自由支配，那么印象的给予者就干脆束手静坐了，因为他的所有招数都丝毫改变不了或影响不了他最终所造成的印象。真正的印象是在结尾，是无意而不是刻意造成的。同时，它也是无意而不是刻意接受的。它的形成要靠双方，而且是事先就已经确定的，最终的欺骗是不可能的……

Expressing One’s Individuality

Arnold Bennet

A most curious and useful thing to realize is that one never knows the impre ssion one is creating on other people. One may often guess pretty accurately whe ther it is good, bad, or indifferent — some people render it unnecessary for one to guess, they practically inform one — but that is not what I mean. I mean much more than that. I mean that one has one's self no mental picture correspondi ng to the mental picture which one's personality leaves in the minds of one's fr iends. Has it ever struck you that there is a mysterious individual going around , walking the streets, calling at houses for tea, chatting, laughing, grumbling, arguing, and that all your friends know him and have long since added him up an d come to a definite conclusion about him — without saying more than a chance, cautious word to you; and that that person is you? Supposing that you came into a drawing room where you were having tea, do you think you would recognize your self as an individuality? I think not. You would be apt to say to yourself as guests do when disturbed in drawing rooms by other guests: “Who's this chap? See ms rather queer. I hope he won't be a bore.” And your first telling would be sli ghtly hostile. Why, even when you meet yourself in an unsuspected mirror in the very clothes that you have put on that very day and that you know by heart, you are almost always shocked by the realization that you are you. And now and then, when you have gone to the glass to arrange your hair in the full sobriety of ea rly morning, have you not looked on an absolute stranger, and has not that stran ger piqued your curiosity? And if it is thus with precise external details of form, colour, and movement, what may it not be with the vague complex effect of the mental and moral individuality?

A man honestly tries to make a good impression. What is the result? The resu lt merely is that his friends, in the privacy of their minds, set him down as a man who tries to make a good impression. If much depends on the result of a sing le interview, or a couple of interviews, a man may conceivably force another to accept an impression of himself which he would like to convey. But if the receiv er of the impression is to have time at his disposal, then the giver of the impr ession may just as well sit down and put his hands in his pockets, for nothing t hat he can do will modify or influence in any way the impression that he willul timately give. The real impress is, in the end, given unconsciously, not conscio usly; and further, it is received unconsciously, not consciously. It depends par tly on both persons. And it is immutably fixed beforehand. There can be no final deception…

滚球

佚名

在我4岁时，我从大西洋城里一个货场的货车上摔了下来，头先着地，于是我失去了视力。现在我32岁了，我能模糊地记起阳光的灿烂，红色的鲜艳。能恢复视力当然是件奇妙的事情，但一场灾难也可以对人产生奇妙的作用。有一天，我突然想到，如果我没有成为盲人，我可能不会像现在这样热爱生活。现在，我相信生活，但我不能肯定，如果自己的视力正常，会不会像现在这样深深地相信生活。我并不是说我宁愿失去视力，我的意思是由于视力的丧失使我更加珍惜自己其他方面的能力。

我相信，生活要求人们不断地调整自己去适应现实。人越能及时地调整自己，他的个人世界便越有意义。调整是件很困难的事。我一度感到茫然、恐惧，但我是幸运的。我的父母和老师在我身上发现了某种东西——你可以称它为“活下去的潜力”——虽然我自己并没有发现。他们激起我与失明搏斗的勇气。

我不得不学会的最艰难的一课就是相信我自己，这一点是最基本的。如果做不到这点，我可能会精神崩溃，剩下的时光只能坐在前门廊的摇椅中度过。相信自己并不仅仅指支持我独自走下陌生楼梯的那种自信。那只是自信的一部分。我指的是一些更大的事情：那就是坚信自己虽然有缺陷，却是一个真正的有进取心的人；坚信在芸芸众生错综复杂的格局当中，一定有一个特殊的位置供我立足。

我花了很多年的时间才树立起这一信念，并把它不断地强化。这必须从最简单的事情做起。有一次，一个人送给我一个室内玩的棒球，我想他在嘲笑我，感觉受到了伤害。“我不能玩这个东西。”我说，“你自己拿去吧。”他竭力劝我说：“你可以在地上滚。”他的话深深地印在我的脑海里。“在地上滚!”滚动的球可以使我听见它朝哪个方向滚动。我马上联想到一个我曾认为不可能做到的事情：打棒球。在费城的奥弗布鲁克盲人学校，我成功地发明了一种很受欢迎的棒球游戏，我们称它为地面球。

我给自己的一生树立了一系列目标，然后一次一个、竭尽全力地去实现它们。我必须知道自己的局限。如果一开始就知道某个目标根本不可能实现却硬要去做，那不会带来任何益处，因为它只会带来失败的苦果。我有时也会失败，但一般说来我总会取得进步。

A Ball to Roll Around

Anonymous

I lost my sight when I was four years old by falling off a box car in a frei ght yard in Atlantic City and landing on my head. Now I am thirty two. I can va guely remember the brightness of sunshine and what color red is. It would be won derful to see again, but a calamity can do strange things to people. It occurred to me the other day that I might not have come to love life as I do if I hadn't been blind. I believe in life now. I am not so sure that I would have believed in it so deeply, otherwise. I don't mean that I would prefer to go without my eyes. I simply mean that the loss of them made me appreciate the more what I had left.

Life, I believe, asks a continuous series of adjustments to reality. The more readily a person is able to make these adjustments, the more meaningful his ow nprivate world becomes. The adjustment is never easy. I was bewildered and afra id. But I was lucky. My parents and my teachers saw something in me — a potenti al to live, you might call it — which I didn't see, and they made me want to fight it out with blindness.

The hardest lesson I had to learn was to believe in myself. That was basic. If I hadn't been able to do that, I would have collapsed and become a chair rock er on the front porch for the rest of my life. When I say belief in myself I am not talking about simply the kind of self confidence that helps me down an unfa miliar staircase alone. That is part of it. But I mean something bigger than that: an assurance that I am, despite imperfections, a real, positive person; that somewhere in the sweeping, intricate pattern of people there is a special place where I can make myself fit.

It took me years to discover and strengthen this assurance. It had to start with the most elementary things. Once a man gave me an indoor baseball. I though t he was mocking me and I was hurt. “I can't use this.” I said. “Take it with you, ” he urged me, “and roll it around. ” The words stuck in my head. “Roll it around! ” By rolling the ball I could hear where it went. This gave me an idea ho w to achieve a goal I had thought impossible: playing baseball. At Philadelphia' s Overbrook School for the Blind I invented a successful variation of baseball. We called it ground ball.

All my life I have set ahead of me a series of goals and then tried to reach them, one at a time. I had to learn my limitations. It was no good to try for s omething I knew at the start was wildly out of reach because that only invited t he bitterness of failure. I would fail sometimes anyway but on the average I mad e progress.

健全的人生

佚名

从前，有个圆圈丢失了一块楔子。它想保持完整，所以它到处寻找那块楔子。但因为它是不完整的，所以它只能慢慢地往前滚。在路上，它对花儿表示羡慕；它与虫子谈天说地；它还欣赏到阳光之美。圆圈找到了许多不同的楔子，但没有一件适合它。所以，它将它们全都扔在路边，继续寻觅。终于有一天，它找到了一个完美的楔子。圆圈是如此高兴，因为现在它可以说是完美无缺了。它装好配件，并开始滚动起来。它已成为一个完美的圆圈，所以它滚动得非常快，以至于没有时间观赏花儿，也无暇与虫子交谈。当圆圈意识到因为它滚得如此之快，以至于失去了原有的世界时，它停了下来，将找到的配件扔在路边，又开始慢慢地往前滚动。

我想，这个故事告诉人们，从某种奇怪的意义上来说，当我们失去了一些东西时，反而会更加完整。一个拥有一切的人在某些方面其实是个穷人，因为他永远也体会不到什么是渴望、期待及如何用美好梦想滋养自己的灵魂。他也永远不可能有这样的体验——一个爱他的人送给他某种他梦寐以求的或者从未拥有过的东西意味着什么。

人生的完整性在于知道如何面对缺陷，如何勇敢地摒弃不现实的幻想而又不以此为憾。人生的完整性还在于学会勇敢地面对人生悲剧而继续活下去，能够在失去某人后依然能表现出完整的个人风范。

人生并不是上帝为了谴责我们的缺陷而给我们设下的陷阱。人生也不是一场拼字游戏的比赛——不管你拼出了多少单词，一旦出现失误，你便前功尽弃。人生更像是一个棒球赛季，即使最好的球队也可能丢掉三分之一的比赛，而最差的球队也有辉煌的胜利。我们的目标就是多赢球，少输球。当我们接受“不完整性”是人类本性的一部分时，当我们不断地进行人生滚动并能欣赏其价值时，我们就会获得其他人仅能渴望的完整人生。我相信这就是上帝对我们的要求：不求“完美”，也不求 “永不犯错”，而是追求人生的“完整”。

如果我们有足够的勇敢地去爱，有足够的坚强去宽容，有足够的大度地去为别人的快乐而高兴，有足够的睿智去理解充满于我们身边的爱，那么我们就能取得别的生物所不能取得的满足感。

The Wholeness of Life

Anonymous

Once a circle missed a wedge. The circle wanted to be whole, so it went arou nd looking for its missing piece. But because it was incomplete and therefore co uld roll only very slowly, it admired the flowers along the way. It chatted with worms. It enjoyed the sunshine. It found lots of different pieces, but none of them fit. So it left them all by the side of the road and kept on searching. The n one day the circle found a piece that fit perfectly. It was so happy. Now it c ould be whole, with nothing missing. It incorporated the missing piece into itse lf and began to roll. Now that it was a perfect circle, it could roll very fast, too fast to notice flowers or talk to the worms. When it realized how different the world seemed when it rolled so quickly, it stopped, left its found piece by the side of the road and rolled slowly away.

The lesson of the story, I suggested, was that in some strange sense we are more whole when we are missing something. The man who has everything is in some ways a poor man. He will never know what it feels like to yearn, to hope, to nou rish his soul with the dream of something better. He will never know the experie nce of having someone who loves him give him something he has always wanted or n ever had.

There is a wholeness about the person who has come to terms with his limitat ions, who has been brave enough to let go of his unrealistic dreams and not feel like a failure for doing so. There is a wholeness about the man or woman who ha s learned that he or she is strong enough to go through a tragedy and survive, s he can lose someone and still feel like a complete person.

Life is not a trap set for us by Cod so that he can condemn us for failing. Life is not a spelling bee, where no matter how many words you've gotten right, you're disqualified if you make one mistake. Life is more like a baseball season , where even the best team loses one third of its games and even the worst team has its days of brilliance. Our goal is to win more games than we lose. When we accept that imperfection is part of being human, and when we can continue rollin g through life and appreciate it, we will have achieved a wholeness that others can only aspire to. That, I believe, is what God asks of us—not “Be perfect”, not “Don't even make a mistake”, but “Be whole”.

If we are brave enough to love, strong enough to forgive, generous enough to rejoice in another's happiness, and wise enough to know there is enough love to go around for us all, then we can achieve a fulfillment that no other living cr eature will ever know.

面貌

弗朗西斯·帕金森·凯丝

这篇文章是女作家凯丝为了在新书广告上刊登相片而引发的一段感想。文中先由林肯的名言谈起容貌对人的影响，进而反观自己脸上烙印的“时间轨迹”，终而肯定人生的经历远比刻意妆点修饰的外表重要。

“忠于自身。”

——莎士比亚

我很喜欢一个故事。那是有关林肯内阁推荐职务的。他的一位顾问极力向他推荐一位候选人，但是林肯拒绝接受这个建议。因此，林肯被要求给出原因来。

“我不喜欢那人的面貌长相。”林肯简明扼要地回答到。

“可是那个可怜的人不应对他的长相负责。”推荐人坚持道。

“每个人一旦过了40岁就应该对自己的长相负责。”林肯答复完就转到其他事情的讨论上了。

最近在出版商的游说之下，我拍了一些照片。他提醒我，我已经很久没给他新照片了，我不能总使用一样的姿势呀。我不喜欢拍相的过程，当我看到最近一次痛苦经历的结果后，就不喜欢这些照片了。我把新照片和25年前的一张照片比较之后，想到我要以现在的面貌面对公众时，我的女性虚荣心开始遭受剧痛。我的第一个直觉就是“修饰”一下这些照片，虽然我从不修饰自己的脸或头发，因为我一直认为女人这么做，除了骗自己之外谁也骗不了。当我深思过这些照片之后，我明白这其中蕴含着一个更重要的原则。

四分之一世纪的生活在女人脸上除了留下了一些皱纹及不受欢迎的皱痕之外，还有更多的东西。在这段漫长的时间里，她已经饱尝痛苦与欢乐、开心与伤心以及生生死死。她生存与斗争，失败和成功。她失去又重获信心。作为结果，她应该比年轻时更英明、高雅、有耐心、有度量。她的幽默感应该成熟起来了，见解也应该更为拓展，同情心应该加深了。而所有的这一切都会表现出来。如果她试图擦除这些岁月的痕迹，同时也冒了摧毁经验与性格印痕的危险。

我知道自己比25年前更有经验，也希望我比以前更有个性。所以我按照原样公布了我的照片。

Face and Fortune

Frances Parkinson Keyes

“To thine own self be true. ”

——Shakespeare

There is a story about a proposed appointment in Lincoln's cabinet that I ha ve always liked very much. One of his advisers urgently recommended a candidate and Lincoln declined to follow the suggestion. So he was asked to give his reaso ns.

“I don't like the man's face. ” Lincoln explained briefly.

“But the poor man is not responsible for his face. ” his advocate insisted.

“Every man over forty is responsible for his face. ” Lincoln replied, and tu rned to the discussion of other matters.

Recently, at the instigation of my publisher, I had some photographs taken. It was a long time, he reminded me, since I had supplied him with a new one; I c ould not go on using the same pose indefinitely. I do not enjoy the process of b eing photographed, and when I saw the results of this latest ordeal, I enjoyed t hese still less. I compared the new photograph with one that had been taken twenty five years ago, and my feminine vanity suffered an acute pang at the thought of being presented to the public as I am today. My first instinct was to have t he prints “touched up, ” though I have never “touched up” my own face or my own hair because I have always maintained that women who did this deceived no one e xcept themselves. As I thoughtfully considered the photographs, I knew that a st ill more important principle was involved.

A quarter century of living should put a great deal into a woman's face besi des a few wrinkles and some unwelcome folds around the chin. In that length of t ime she has become intimately acquainted with pain and pleasure, joy and sorrow, life and death. She has struggled and survived, failed and succeeded. She has l ost and regained faith. And, as a result, she should be wiser, gentler, more pat ient and more tolerant than she was when she was young. Her sense of humor shoul d have mellowed, her outlook should have widened, her sympathies should have dee pened. And all this should show. If she tries to erase the imprint of age, she r uns the risk of destroying, at the same time, the imprint of experience and char acter.

I know I am more experienced than I was a quarter century ago and I hope I h ave more character. I released the pictures as they were.

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:37:34

人人想当别人

塞缪尔·麦考德·克罗瑟斯

塞缪尔·麦考德·克罗瑟斯(1867—1931)，美国优秀散文作家，生于伊利诺州，曾先后就读于普林斯顿大学、联合神学院与哈佛大学等学校，以学识渊博与善于讲道著称于世。

人生许多微小不快的背后原因，都因为这种人人想当别人的自然欲望，它使社会不能圆满合理地组织起来，不能让每个人都各司其职，各就其位。想当别人的欲望常常引导我们去做一些严格意义上来说并不属于自己范围的事。我们的才干本领常常超出我们自己行业与职务的狭小范围。每个人都觉得自己才过其位，大才小用。因而无时无刻不在做着那种神学家们所谓的“额外余功”。

一个态度认真的女佣人不会满足于只干几件被吩咐的差事。她身上有着剩余精力没有用完。她的志向是做一名改革家庭方面的专家。于是她来到那家虚有其名的主人的书桌面前，在那上面进行一番彻底改革。按照她的整洁观点，所有文件都重新被做了归置。当那位可怜的主人回来后，发现为他熟悉的杂乱已经变成可恶的整齐时，他简直成了—个反动分子。

一位秉性严肃的市街铁道公司经理绝不会只从运送乘客方面，和使乘客觉得便宜、舒适这一简单责任中获得满足感。他要发挥在一个道德促进会上一位宣讲人的职能。于是，当一位可怜的乘客正在皮带环的下面被弄得摇晃蹒跚站立不稳时，他却要为这位乘客读份东西，请求他发扬基督徒的美德，不要推挤。

一个人走进理发店，目的只是刮刮胡子而已。但却遇到一位雄心壮志的理发师。这位志向高超的理发师绝不满足于仅对人类的幸福做微小的贡献。他坚持认为，他这位顾客还需要洗发、修指、按摩、在滚热毛巾下发汗，在电风扇下冷却，等等，并在进行所有这些的同时，他的皮鞋还必须被重新上油擦拭。

当你看到有些人在接受种种他们并不需要的服务时所表现的这种忍耐，你不觉得奇怪吗?其实也不过是为了不伤害情愿多干点活的手艺人的感情罢了。你看，卧车中一些乘客站起身来让人家为他刷衣服时，有着一副多么耐心的神情啊，他们十有八九并不想让人去刷。他们宁愿衣服上留着灰尘也不愿被迫忍受这种事。但是他们明白不能让别人感到失望。这乃是一项整个旅行中的隆重仪式，是正式献礼之前不可缺少的。

人人想当别人，这种情形也是艺术家与文人学士出现越轨现象的一个重要原因。我们的画家、剧作家、音乐家、诗人以及小说作者也就像上面说的女佣人，铁路经理与列车员一样，犯着人们所通有的毛病。他们总是希望“以最多的方式对最多的人们做最多的工作”。他们厌倦了自己所熟悉的东西，而喜欢尝试种种新的结合。于是他们经常把不同的事物拉扯在一起。一种艺术的实践者总是尽量用另外一种艺术制造出某种效果。

于是有的音乐家想当画家，像使用画笔一样来使用小提琴。他要让我们看见他为我们描绘的落日彩霞。而画家则想当音乐家，想把交响乐画出来，并很苦恼那些缺乏修养的人听不出他画中的音乐，因为那些色彩明明在互相咆哮着。另一位画家则想当建筑师，希望他构制出的图画能产生砖石砌成的感觉。结果他的作品倒很像一所砖房，但可惜在一般正常人看来却不像一张图画。再如一位散文作家厌倦了写散文，而想当诗人。于是他在每一行开头用了大写字母以后，却继续照着他的散文写法不误。

再比如看戏剧。你带着你那简单的莎土比亚式的观念走进剧院，以为来到这里就是看戏。但是你的剧作家却想成为病理学家。于是你发现自己身陷诊所，四周阴森难耐。你本来是到这里来消遣，找个地方舒散舒散，但你这位不入流的人士却走入这个专门为你准备的场所，因此你不得不熬到终场。至于你有你自己的苦衷这点并不成为充分的理由使你豁免。

又如你拿起一部小说来看，以为这肯定是一则故事。谁料到你的小说家却别有其见解。他想充当你的精神顾问。他要对你的心智有所建树，他要把你的基本思想重新整理一番，他要按摩你的灵魂，对你的周身进行大扫除。尽管你并不想让他为你做什么扫除或调整，他却要为你做所有这些事。你不愿你的那颗心被他触动。确实，你自己也只有那么一颗可怜的心，你自己的工作也还需要它。

Every Man’s Natural Desire

to be Somebody Else

Samuel McChord Crothers

The natural desire of every man to be somebody else explains many of the min or irritations of life. It prevents that perfect or ganizatiott of society in wh ich everyone should know his place and keep it. The desire to be somebody else l eads us to practice on work that does, not strictly belong to us. We all have ap titudes and talents that overflow the narrow bounds of our trade or profession. Every man feels that he is bigger than his job, and he is all the time doing wha t theologians call “works of supererogation.”

The serious minded housemaid is not content to do what she is told to do. S he has an unexpended balance of energy. She wants to be a general household refo rmer. So she goes to the desk of the titular master of the house and gives it a thorough reformation. She arranges the papers according to her idea of neatness. When the poor gentleman returns and finds his familiar chaos transformed into a hateful order, he becomes a reactionary.

The serious manager of a street railway company is not content with the simp le duty of transporting passengers cheaply and comfortably. He wants to exercise the functions of a lecturer in an ethical culture society. While the transporte d victim is swaying precariously from the end of a strap he reads a notice urgin g him to practise Christian courtesy and not to push.

A man enters a barber's shop with the simple desire of being shaved. But he meets with the more ambitious desires of the barber. The serious barber is not c ontent with any slight contribution to human welfare.He insists that his client shall be shampooed, manicured, massaged, steamed beneath boiling towels, cooled off by electric fans, and, while all this is going on, that he shall have his bo ots blacked.

Have you never marveled at the patience of people in having so many things d one to them that they don't want, just to avoid hurting the feelings of professi onal people who want to do more than is expected of them? You watch the stoical countenance of the passenger in a Pullman car as he stands up to be brushed. The chances are that he doesn't want to be brushed. He would prefer to leave the du st on his coat rather than to be compelled to swallow it. But he knows what is e xpected of him. It is a part of the solemn ritual of traveling. It precedes the offering.

The fact that every man desires to be somebody else explains many of the abe rrations of artists and literary men. The painters, dramatists, musicians, poets , and novelists are just as human as housemaids and railway managers and porters . They want to do “all the good they can to all the people they can in all the ways they can. ” They get tired of the ways they are used to and like to try new combinations. So they are continually mixing things. The practitioner of one art tries to produce effects that are proper to another art.

A musician wants to be a painter and use his violin as if it were a brush.He would have us see the sunset glories that he is painting for us. A painter want s to be a musician and paint symphonies, and he is grieved because the uninstruc ted cannot hear his pictures, although the colors do swear at each other. Anothe r painter wants to be an architect and build up his picture as if it were made o f cubes of brick. It looks like brick work, but to the natural eye it doesn't l ook like a picture. A prose writer gets tired of writing prose, and wants to be a poet. So he begins every line with a capital letter, and keeps on writing pro se.

You go to the theatre with the simple minded Shakespearean idea that the play's the thing. But the playwright wants to be a pathologist. So you discover th at you have dropped into a gruesome clinic. You sought innocent relaxation, but you are one of the hon elect and have gone to the place prepared for you. You m ust see the thing through. The fact that you have troubles of your own is not a sufficient claim for exemption.

Or you take up a novel expecting it to be a work of fiction.But the novelist has other views.He wants to be your spiritual adviser. He must do something to your mind, he must rearrange your fundamental ideas, he must massage your soul, and generally brush you off. All this in spite of the fact that you don't want t o be brushed off and set to rights. You don't want him to do anything to your mi nd. It's the only mind you have and you need it in your own business.

人生苦短

佚名

你们有些人听任一些不幸的误会年复一年地继续存在，打算将来有一天再去澄清；你们有些人听任一些可怜的争执继续为害，因为你们不能现在就下定决心牺牲自己的自尊，消除那些争执；你们有些人在大街上遇见某些人的时候，由于某种愚蠢的怨恨，故意不同他们讲话，但是你们自己心里也知道，如果在明天早晨听说其中的某个人离开了人世，自己的心中一定会充满羞愧和悔恨之情；你们有些人吝惜一句感激或同情的话，因而使朋友在痛苦中等待——只要你们突然间知道、看到或感觉到 “人生苦短”，那你们的心胸就会豁然开朗，不再沉迷于那些无谓的计较，你会马上去做一些如果现在不做以后也许就永远没有机会去做的事情。

The Time Is Short

Anonymous

You who are letting miserable misunderstandings run on from year to year, me aning to clear them up some day; you who are keeping wretched quarrels alive bec ause you cannot quite make up your mind that now is the day to sacrifice your pr ide and kill them; you who are passing men sullenly upon the street, not speakin g to them out of some silly spite, and yet knowing that it would fill you with s hame and remorse if you heard that one of those men were dead tomorrow morning; you who are letting your friend's heart ache for a word of appreciation or sympa thy if only you could know and see and feel, all of a sudden, that “the time is short” how it would break the spell! How you would go instantly and do the thin g which you might never have another chance to do!

人是为了别人而活着

阿尔伯特·爱因斯坦

阿尔伯特·爱因斯坦(1879—1955)，美国籍犹太人，20世纪最伟大的科学家。1921年获诺贝尔物理学奖。他一生崇尚科学与民主，追求真理和光明，毕生致力于国际和平事业。

人类在这个世界上的处境真是奇怪。我们每个人都是来做一次短暂的访问，不知道自己为何而来，然而有时候却似乎推测出一种目的。

但是从日常生活的观点来看，有一件事情我们是肯定知道的，那就是人在这个世界上是为了别人而活着——尤其为了那些我们自身幸福寄托在他们的微笑和福祉之上的人们，以及那些由于同情之感而使我们同他们的命运联系起来的人们。每天都有很多次，我觉察到自己的肉体生活和精神生活是如何建立在别人——包括生者和死者 ——的劳动之上，以及自己必须如何地奋发努力，从而使我从别人那里取得多少东西，我也可以把同等数量的东西给予别人，以此作为报答。我时常怀着一种忧郁的心情，觉得自己从别人的工作中承袭得太多，因而心里惴惴不安。

没完没了地沉思着自己生存的理由或人生的意义，从客观的观点来看，我觉得这是近乎愚蠢的行为。可是，每个人都有—些理想作为他的抱负和判断的指南针。经常在我的眼前闪耀发光，并使我充满了快乐的理想，就是真、善、美。我从来没有以追求舒适和幸福作为生活的目标，建立在这个基础上的一套伦理观念，只能满足一群牲畜的需要。

Man Is Here for the Sake of Other Men

Albert Einstein

Strange is our situation here upon earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to divine a purpose.

From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know th at man is here for the sake of other men—above all for those upon whose smile and well being our own happiness depends, and also for the countless unknown s ouls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day I realize how much my own outer and inner life is built upon the labors of my fell ow men, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received. My peace of mind is often troubled by the depressing sense that I have borrowed too heavily from the work of other men.

To ponder interminably over the reason for one's own existence or the meaning of life in general seems to me, from an objective point of view, to be sheer f olly. And yet everyone holds certain ideals by which he guides his aspiration an d his judgment. The ideals which have always shone before me and filled me with the joy of living are goodness, beauty, and truth. To make a goal of comfort and happiness has never appealed to me; a system of ethics built on this basis woul d be sufficient only for a herd of cattle.

生活的道路

威廉·S．毛姆

大多数人的生活被他们身处的环境所决定。他们不仅接受既定的命运，而且顺从命运的安排。他们就像街上的电车一样，在他们既定的轨道上行驶，而对于那些不时出没于车水马龙间和欢快地奔驰在旷野上的廉价小汽车却不屑一顾。我尊重他们，他们是好公民、好丈夫和好父亲。当然，总得有些人来支付税收，但是，他们并没有令人激动的地方。另外有一些人，他们把生活掌握在自己的手里，可以按照自己的喜好去创造生活，尽管这样的人少之又少，但我却被他们深深地吸引着。可能世界上并没有诸如自由意志这样的事情，但是无论怎样，我们总有关于自由意志的幻想。当我们处在一个十字路口时，我们似乎可以决定向左走还是向右走，可是一旦做出选择，我们却很难意识到，实际上是世界历史的全部进程强迫我们做出了那样的选择。

The Road of Life

William S. Maugham

The lives of most men are determined by their environment. They accept the c ircumstances amid which fate has thrown them not only with resignation but even with good will. They are like streetcars running contentedly on their rails and they despise the sprightly flitter that dashes in and out of the traffic and spe eds so jauntily across the open country. I respect them; they are good citizens, good husbands, and good fathers, and of course somebody has to pay the taxes; b ut I do not find them exciting. I am fascinated by the men, few enough in all co nscience, who take life in their own hands and seem to mould it to their own lik ing. It maybe that we have no such thing as free will, but at all events, we hav e the illusion of it. At a cross road it does seem to us that we might go eithe r to the right or the left and, the choice once made, it is difficult to see tha t the whole course of the world's history obliged us to take the turning we did.

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:37:59

生命美于变化

佚名

将所有事物和事物的原则统统归结为经常变化着的形态或风尚，这已日益成为近代思想界的一个趋势。我们可以从我们的生理活动等表面的事情说起。举个例子来说，选定在酷暑中猛然浸入滔滔清流的一刹那和感觉极其愉快的这么一个微妙的时刻。在那一瞬间的所有生理活动，难道不可以说是具有科学名称的各种元素的一种化合作用吗？但是，像磷、石灰、微细的纤维质等这些元素，不仅存在于人体之中，而且在与人体没有丝毫关系的地方也能检查出它们的存在。血液的流通，眼睛中水晶体的消耗和恢复，每一道光波、每一次声浪对于脑组织所引起的变异——都不外是这些元素永久的运动。但是科学把这些运动过程还原为更为简单和基本力量的作用。正如我们身体所赖以构成的元素所形成的我们的生理活动的力量，这些力量在我们身体以外也同样发挥着作用——它可以使铁生锈，使谷物成熟。这些元素，在种种气流吹送之下，从我们身外向四面八方传播：人的诞生，人的姿态，人的死亡，以及在人的坟头上生长出紫罗兰——这不过是成千上万化合结果的点滴例子而已。人类那轮廓分明、长久不变的面颜和肢体，不过是一种表象，在它那框架之内，我们好把种种化合的元素凝聚一团——这好像是蛛网的纹样，那织网的细丝从网中穿出，又引向他方。在这一点上，我们的生命有些像那火焰——它也是种种力量汇合的结果，这汇合虽不断延续，那些力量却早晚要各自飘散。

Change Makes Life Beautiful

Anonymous

To regard all things and principles of things as inconstant modes or fashion s has more and more become the tendency of modern thought. Let us begin with tha t which is without —our physical life. Fix upon it in one of its more exquisit e intervals, the moment, for instance, of delicious recoil from the flood of wat er in summer heat. What is the whole physical life in that moment but a combinat ion of natural elements to which science gives their names? But these elements, phosphorus and lime and delicate fibers, are present not in the human body alone: we detect them in places most remote from it. Our physical life is a perpetual motion of them—the passage of the blood, the wasting and repairing of the le nses of the eye, the modification of the tissues of the brain under every ray of light and sound processes which science reduces to simpler and more elementary forces. Like the elements of which we are composed, the action of these forces extends beyond us: it rusts iron and ripens corn. Far out on every side of us th ose elements are broadcast, driven in many currents; and birth and gesture and d eath and the springing of violets from the grave are but a few out of ten thousa nd resultant combinations. That clear, perpetual outline of face and limb is but an image of ours, under which we group them a design in a web, the actual threa ds of which pass out beyond it. This at least of flame — like our life has, tha t it is but the concurrence, renewed from moment to moment, of forces parting so oner or later on their ways.

随想

约翰·博因顿·普里斯特利

约翰·博因顿·普里斯特利（1894—1984），英国小说家、剧作家和散文家，他的散文以细腻著称，文笔生动，广受读者喜爱。

一直以来，对别人学识渊博及造诣之深，我感到很不理解。只要你随便读一读哪一位重要人物的传记，就总会发现他的学问和才能，就算我活六辈子也休想学到和做到。首先，除了碰到像史蒂文森或契诃夫那样的，有明显残疾的人以外，他们总是成绩顶呱呱的运动员，他们有着惊人的气力、耐力。

他们即使年届七旬，在走路，跑步，翻山越岭时我们都赶不上他们。其次，他们大都是语言方面的天才。你从来没有看见他们坐下来学习一种新的语言，甚至连不规则动词表也没有看见他们浏览—下。但是大家都认为他们随便可以讲几种语言，不仅流利，而且发音纯正。他们一般都精通几门，而不会使自己局限在一门科学里。大自然这部巨著被他们熟记于心。不久以前，我还读到一位杰出的小说家的事迹。他是一位非常老练而又精细的人，据说他熟悉乡村每一种野花野草、树木和禽鸟的名称、习性和生活史。除此之外，请原谅我用一些套语来形容，这些大人物都是富于灵感的音乐大师，或是精妙绝伦的业余水彩画家，或是风格优美的文体家。更使我们感到惊讶的是，要是他们的境遇不同，只要他们认真从事这门或那门艺术，凭着他们的才能，而且日后一定会获得不朽的声誉，再者还会享誉全球。这些对他们的描述真是神乎其神。

但是我被搞糊涂了。他们凭什么做得到?我再次想问这个问题，甚至忌妒和烦恼得要遥问苍天。我们应该仔细地想一想一首乐曲、一幅水彩画或一篇美妙的文章究竟意味着什么(这一点却被他们轻轻带过或略而不论)，这需要很多年专心致志地在键盘上、在画架上或者在写字台上辛勤操作，这样才能有所成就。而像你我这样，胡乱弹奏钢琴曲，同时还用左手插入即兴的过门，或者不管色彩是否协调，乱涂几笔蘸上水彩，或者在一篇粗制滥造的散文里贴上几句闪闪烁烁的陈词滥调是一回事；而要成为一个有成就的音乐家、画家或作家，却是另一回事。要是那指的是前者，我可以理解；但是如果指的是后者呢?——尚且还不过是作为一种业余的消遣!更不用说他们还要从事体育运动，研究各门科学，学习各种语言，或者博物学!这使我迷惑不解，而且佩服得五体投地。这就是使我自己越看越小，小得像个小蚊虫的原因。他们有如此神奇的天赋!正像传说中讲的那样。

Random Thoughts

John Boynton Priestley

This matter of other people's learning and accomplishments has been worrying me for some time. I never read the life of any important person without discove ring that he knew more and could do more than I could ever hope to know or to do in half a dozen lifetimes. To begin with, unless these people chance to be obvi ous invalids like Stevenson or Tchehov, they are always tremendous athletes, wit h surprising strength, powers of endurance, and so forth.

They could all walk and run and climb our heads off, even when they were sev enty. Then they all have the gift of tongues. You never catch a glimpse of them sitting down to learn a new language, not even running an eye over its irregular verbs, yet it is admitted that they speak any number with an astonishing fluenc y and purity of accent. They never confine themselves to one science, but are in evitably masters of several. The big book of Nature they know by heart. Only the other day I was reading an account of a great novelist, a most sophisticated an d subtle person, and was told that he knew the name and habits and history of ev ery wild flower and plant and tree and bird in the country. Nor is that all. The re is not one of these bigwigs who is not ( I quote the customary phrases ) a se nsitive and accomplished musician, or an extraordinarily fine amateur water col ourist, or the possessor of a magnificent prose style. We are always told that, had circumstance been different, their talents were such that they need only hav e given their serious attention to one or other of these arts to have procured f or themselves lasting and perhaps world wide reputations. So runs the legend of the eulogists.

I am baffled. How is it done? I ask the question again, my voice rises to a scream of envy and vexation. Consider what is involved in this matter (so lightl y touched upon and dismissed) of music or water colour painting or fine writing , what years of serious application, of drudgery at the keyboard, the easel, or the writing desk. It is one thing to strum on the piano, as you and I do, faking the left hand passages as we go along, or to daub a few patchy water colours, or to paste on to clumsy prose some old spangles of rhetoric, and it is quite a nother thing to be an accomplished musician or artist or writer. If the first we re meant, I could understand it; but the second and as a mere recreation, too! A nd then to add the athleticism, the sciences, the tongues, the natural history! I am bewildered and crushed. The very idle rumour of fellow creatures so wonder fully gifted makes me dwindle in my own estimation to the size of a gnat.

我们在旅途中

亨利·凡·戴克

亨利·凡·戴克（1852—1933），美国作家、教育家、演说家和传道士。他在本文中对人在旅途这个观点作了平凡而深刻的描述。

不论你处在什么地方，也不论你是什么人，不管是在此时此刻，还是在我们生命中的任何一个瞬间，有一件事对你我来说是恰巧相同的：我们不是在休息，我们是在一次旅途中。我们的生活是一种运动，一种趋势，是向一个看不见的目标稳定而不停地进步。每一天，我们都会赢得某些东西，或者会失去某些东西。甚至当我们的位置和我们的性格看起来跟以前完全相似时，它们事实上仍然在变化着。因为仅仅是时间的前进就是一种变化。对于一块荒地来说，在1月和7月是不同的，季节会制造差异。能力上的缺陷对于孩子来说是一种可爱的品质，但对于大人来说就是一种幼稚的表现。

我们做的每一件事都是朝着一个或另一个方向前进一步。甚至“没有做任何事情”这件事本身也是一种行为，它让我们前进或后退；一根磁针阴极的作用和阳极的作用都是一样真实的；拒绝也是一种接受——这些都是二中择一的选择。

你今天比昨天更接近你的港口了吗？是的——你必须接近某一个港口或者其它港口。自从你第一次被抛入生活之海，你的船连一分钟都没有静止过；海是如此之深，你也不可能找到一个抛锚的地方；于是你不可能停下来，直到你到达自己的港口。

We Are on a Journey

Henry Van Dyke

Wherever you are, and whoever you may be, there is one thing in which you an d I are just alike at this moment, and in all the moments of our existence. We a re not at rest; we are on a journey. Our life is a movement, a tendency, a stead y, ceaseless progress towards an unseen goal. We are gaining something, or losin g something, everyday. Even when our position and our character seem to remain p recisely the same, they are changing. For the mere advance of time is a change. It is not the same thing to have a bare field in January and in July. The season makes the difference. The limitations that are childlike in the child are child ish in the man.

Everything that we do is a step in one direction or another. Even the failur e to do something is in itself a deed. It sets us forward or backward. The actio n of the negative pole of a magnetic needle is just as real as the action of the positive pole. To decline is to accept — the other alternative.

Are you nearer to your port today than you were yesterday? Yes,— you must b e a little nearer to some port or other; for since your ship was first launched upon the sea of life, you have never been still for a single moment; the sea is too deep, you could not find an anchorage if you would; there can be no pause un till you come into port.

我为何而生

伯特兰·罗素

伯特兰·罗素(1872—1970)，英国著名的哲学家，数学家和文学家。他在多个领域都取得了巨大成就。他所著的《西方的智慧》、《西方哲学史》对中国读者影响颇大。

对爱的期望，对知识的追求以及对人类苦难难以忍受的怜悯之心——这三种质朴而不可抗拒的情感主宰着我的生活。这些情感像一阵阵飓风，把我随意地吹得飘来荡去，穿过痛苦的海洋，抵达绝望的彼岸。

我曾追求过爱，首先是因为爱可以使人欣喜狂放——它让人如此高兴。为了这片刻的快乐，我宁愿拿我的余生作为牺牲；我曾追寻过爱，其次是因为它能解除人孤独的感觉——置身于这无比可怕的孤独中，那让人战栗的感觉，会掠过这个世界的边缘，把人带入那无声无息而且寒气逼人的无底深渊。我曾追寻过爱，还因为在爱的结合、在这神秘的缩影中，我看到了圣人和诗人们曾经幻想的天堂美景。我追求的正是如此。尽管对凡人而言，这世间好像是一种奢望，但这是我最终所寻觅的。

带着同样的情感，我曾追寻过知识。我曾希望对人类的心灵有所了解，我曾想知道星辰为什么会发光，我曾试图理解毕达哥拉斯的力量，他认为数的力量驾驭着万物的变化。我得到了为数不多的一点知识。

爱和知识可以把人带入天堂。但是怜悯之心又常常把我拉回尘世之中，我的心中激荡着痛苦的呼唤。嗷嗷待哺的孩子、被压迫者鞭挞的受害者、孤苦无助的老人—— 他们是儿女们憎恶的负担。还有那充满着孤独、贫穷和痛苦的世界，都在嘲弄着人类生活本应有的美好。我渴望减少人间的邪恶，对此却无能为力，因此也承受着煎熬。

这就是我的生活，我觉得值得活下去。如果天赐良机，我愿意再快乐地活一次。

What I Have Lived For

Bertrand Russell

Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward: course, over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the verge of despair.

I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy — ecstasy so great tha t I would have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy. I ha ve sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness—that terrible loneliness i n which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into cold un fathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what — at last — I have found.

With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine. And I have tried to ap prehend the Pythagorean power by which number holds away above the flux. A littl e of this, but not much, I have achieved.

Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heav ens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverbera ted in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a hated burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.

This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and I would gladly live it again if the chance were offered to me.

观舞

约翰·高尔斯华绥

约翰·高尔斯华绥（1867—1933）英国近代著名的小说家、剧作家、散文家，曾获1932年的诺贝尔文学奖。本篇系他1910年所写的一个短篇随笔，文字工整秀丽，感情丰富饱满。

一天下午，友人邀我去一家剧场观舞。幕启后，台上除四周高垂的灰色幕布外，空无一物。不一会，从幕布厚重的皱折处，孩子们一个个或一对对地联翩而出，台上最后总共出现了十一二个。全部是女孩，年龄都不超过十三四岁，有一两个最多只有八岁。衣衫都穿得很少，完全裸露着腿脚胳臂。她们的头发散开着，脸孔端庄之中却满带笑容，竟是那样的可爱活泼，让人看后恍有被魔法置入苹果仙园之感，此时此地身体已不复存在，唯有精魂浮游于缥渺的晴空。孩子们有的白晰而丰腴，有的黝深而窈窕；但个个都欢欣愉快，天真烂漫，丝毫没有矫揉造作之态，尽管她们显然都受过高超和认真的训练。每个跳步，每个转动，都仿佛出之于对生命的喜悦，而就在此时此地即兴编成的——舞蹈对她们真是毫不费力，不论演出还是排练。这里见不到蹑足欠步、装模作样的姿态，也见不到徒耗体力，漫无目标的动作；眼前唯有节奏、音乐、光明、轻盈，特别是欢乐。笑与爱曾帮助塑造她们的舞姿，此刻笑与爱又正从她们的一张张笑靥中，从她们肢体的雪白而优美的旋转中，息息透出，光彩动人。

尽管她们全都逗人喜爱，但其中有两人却尤其引我注目。一个是她们中个子最高的女孩，她肤深腰纤，每个表情每个动作中都表现出一种庄重却火辣的热情。

舞蹈节目之一是她扮演一个美童的追逐者，当然这个美童的一举一动，顺便说一句，也都异常妩媚；在这场追逐中，宛如蜻蜓之戏舞于睡莲之旁，或如仲夏之夜向明月吐诉衷曲，抒发出一缕缕摄人心魄的细细幽情。这个发肤黝深的女猎手，情如火燎，实是世间一切渴求的最奇妙不过的象征，而且实在动人。当我们从她身上看到她在追逐她那情人时所流露的一腔迷惘激情，那种既得辄止的曳犹神态，我们仿佛隐约窥见了那奔流于整个世界并且永远如斯的伟大神秘力量。啊，令人伤痛的焦灼不安，永不逝去的悱恻缠绵。

另一个使我迷恋不已的是从身材上数倒数第二的那个发色浅棕的孩子。这个头戴白花半月冠的俊美女神，短裙之上，绛英瓣瓣；裙衫动处，飘飘欲仙。她的舞蹈已远远脱出儿童的境界。她那娇小的秀颅与肢体之间，处处都充满着律动的圣洁火焰。在她的一小段“独舞”中，她简直成了节奏的化身。快睹之下，恍若一团喜悦骤从天降，并且登时凝聚在那里；而满台喜悦之声则洋洋盈耳。此时台下也真的响起了一片啧啧之声，继而欢声雷动。

我看了看我的友人,他正在用指头悄悄地从眼边擦拭什么。至于我自己，则氍毹之上几乎一片模糊，世间万物都顿觉可爱；仿佛经此飞仙用魔杖一点，一切都变得金光灿灿。

或许唯有上帝知道她的这股力量是从哪里得来的，能把喜悦带给我们这些枯竭的心田；也唯有上帝知道她能把这力量保持多久,但是这个蹁跹的小爱神的身上却蕴蓄着那种为浓稠色调、幽美乐曲、天风丽日以及那些伟大艺术珍品所特具的力量——足以把心灵从其一切窒碍之中解脱出来，使之充满喜悦。

Dancers

John Galsworthy

I was taken by a friend one afternoon to a theatre. When the curtain was rai sed, the stage was perfectly empty save for tall grey curtains which enclosed it on all sides, and presently through the thick folds of those curtains children came dancing in, singly, or in pairs, till a whole troop of ten or twelve were a ssembled. They were all girls; none, I think, more than fourteen years old, one or two certainly not more than eight. They wore but little clothing, their legs, feet and arms being quite bare. Their hair, too, was unbound; and their faces, grave and smiling, were so utterly dear and joyful, that in looking on them one felt transported to some Garden of Hesperides, a where self was not,and the spir it floated in pure ether. Some of these children were fair and rounded, others d ark and elf like; but one and all looked entirely happy, and quite unself cons cious, giving no impression of artifice, though they had evidently had the highe st and most careful training. Each flight and whirling movement seemed conceived there and then out of the joy of being — dancing had surely never been a labou r to them, either in rehearsal or performance. There was no tiptoeing and postur ing, no hopeless muscular achievement; all was rhythm, music, light, air, and, a bove all things, happiness. Smiles and love had gone to the fashioning of their performance; and smiles and love shone from every one of their faces and from th e clever white turnings of their limbs.

Amongst them — though all were delightful — there were two who especially riveted my attention. The first of these two was the tallest of all the children, a dark thin girl, in whose every expression and movement there was a kind of g rave, fiery love.

During one of the many dances, it fell to her to be the pursuer of a fair ch ild, whose movements had a very strange soft charm; and this chase, which was li ke the hovering of a dragon fly round some water lily, or the wooing of a moon beam by the June night, had in it a most magical sweet passion. That dark, tende r huntress, so full of fire and yearning, had the queerest power of symbolising all longing, and moving one's heart. In her, pursuing her white love with such w istful fervour, and ever arrested at the very movement of conquest, one seemed t o see the great secret force that hunts through the world, on and on, tragically unresting, immortally sweet.

The other child who particularly enchanted me was the smallest but one, a br own haired fairy crowned with a half moon of white flowers, who wore a scanty little rose petal coloured shift that floated about her in the most delightful fashion. She danced as never child danced. Every inch of her small head and bod y was full of the sacred fire of motion; and in her little pas seul she seemed t o be the very spirit of movement. One felt that Joy had flown down, and was inha biting there; one heard the rippling of Joy's laughter. And, indeed, through all the theatre had risen a rustling and whispering; and sudden bursts of laughing rapture.

I looked at my friend; he was trying stealthily to remove something from his eyes with a finger. And to myself the stage seemed very misty, and all things i n the world lovable; as though that dancing fairy had touched them with tender f ire, and made them golden.

God knows where she got that power of bringing joy to our dry hearts: God kn ows how long she will keep it! But that little flying Love had in her the qualit y that lies deep in colour, in music, in the wind, and the sun, and in certain g reat works of art — the power to set the heart free from every barrier, and flo od it with delight.

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:38:15

声誉

佚名

在每个领域里，一旦出了名就会使一些入迷者虔敬地表示赞扬和尊崇，这是种容易使人陶醉的东西。一位表演家很容易相信自己的成就和报章舆论所说的一样。可是大多数人，大多数艺人并没有得到声名和财富。那些失败的表演者又如何呢？其他任何一个失败者又如何呢？奇怪的是，对很多人来说，失败常常也会起一种报偿的作用!有些人因为庆幸自己不像你那样地失败，就会对你表示同情，而你的亲朋们也会降低对你的期望，你就不必去同那些才智胜于你而获得成功的人们较量。他们会帮你找借口解释你不成功不出名的原因，说什么：你太敏感呀；你对金钱不感兴趣呀；你对声名所能带来的权力没有兴趣呀；因为声誉会使你丧失隐私权，所以你不感兴趣呀，等等——这些无非都是借口而已，但这对失败者或假装不关心自己失败的人来说，都多少能带来一点安慰。

历史已充分证明在生命中的某些时刻遭遇失败确实能促使有些人更努力奋斗，继续深信自己，并取得成功。美国小说家托马斯·沃尔夫的第一部小说《安琪儿，往家里看》在出版之前，被退稿39次，终于开始了他的写作事业并赢得了声誉。贝多芬从不屈服于他的专横的父亲，还忍气当过乐师，但终于克服一切，成为了全世界最伟大最著名的音乐家。贝斯达洛齐是19世纪意大利著名教育家，他从事各项事业一无成就，但最后专心于儿童教育，从而研讨了新教育法的基本原理，形成一种新的教育理论。托马斯·爱迪生在10岁左右上四年级时被赶出校外，因为教师觉得他又笨又倔强。这种以失败为动力，奋发向上，成名成家的人还有许多例子可举。但不幸的是，对多数人来说，失败是奋斗的结束，而不是开始。成名者的失败事例即使有，也只是少数。

那么，我们为什么要追求声誉呢？你在追求声誉吗？你希望许多人都知道你并赞赏你吗？你想要那些往往随声誉而来的金钱吗？你希望传媒注意你在公开或私下里的一言一行吗？你想要他们像猎狗似的追逐你，向你提问，想办法拆你的台脚吗？这在美国政界中非常明显，你要出名就得成为反对你的每个人的目标，当然也是传播媒介的目标。声誉把一切灯光打亮，一边给你权力和威望，另一边也把“你”赶出你的自身之外：你必须成为公众意想之中的你，而不是那个真实的你或者可能的你。像表演家一样，政治家必须去讨好他的听众，这就往往意味着要讲一点自己并不完全相信或同意的话。所以相信政治家的人是如此之少，这就不足为奇了。但是我们还没有回答本节开始所提的问题：为什么大家都追求声誉呢？我们想到的理由有下列几点：为了显示出某方面的超越成就；赢得许多人的景仰爱慕；为了成为一个人人都提到的人；在亲朋前显示你超乎于他们对你的想象之上。也许你还可加些其他理由，但我觉得上述各点当然是普遍的。

……

我相信声誉和赞扬、影响和权力。成功和失败、现实和幻想都好像是精密地编织在一匹光洁无缝的织品之中，即我们称之为现实的东西。对那些拼命追求声誉、财富和赞赏的人们，我要说：祝您好运。但当你已抓住了成功、声誉的尾巴之后，你将会做什么呢？一直追逐下去吗？如你确实抓住了它的话，就舍命也不要松手，因为下坠总比坠地要少痛苦一点。走在这苍茫而不可理喻的星球上的芸芸过客们，我盼你们不久就能功成名就，或近乎功成名就吧!

Fame

Anonymous

Fame brings celebrity and high regard from adoring and loyal fans in each field of endeavor and it is heady stuff. A performer can easily come to believe that he or she is as good as his or her press. But most people, most artists do no t gain fame and fortune. What about those performers who fail, or anyone who fai ls? Curiously enough, failure often serves as its own reward for many people! It brings sympathy from others who are delighted not to be you, and it allows family and friends to lower their expectations of you so that you need not compete with those who have more talent and who succeed. And they find excuses and explan ations for your inability to succeed and become famous: you are too sensitive, you are not interested in money, you are not interested in the power that fame br ings and you are not interested in the loss of privacy it demands, etc. — all excuses, but comforting to those who fail and those who pretend not to notice the failure.

History has amply proven that some failure for some people at certain times in their lives does indeed motivate them to strive even harder to succeed and to continue believing in themselves. Thomas Wolfe, the American novelist, had his first novel Look Homeward, Angel rejected 39 times before it was finally publish ed and launched his career and created his fame. Beethoven overcame his tyrannic al father and grudging acceptance as a musician to become the greatest, most fam ous musician in the word, and Pestalozzi, the famous Italian educator in the 19th century, failed at every job he ever had until he came upon the idea of teachi ng children and developing the fundamental theories to produce a new form of edu cation. Thomas Edison was thrown out of school in fourth grade, at about age 10, because he seemed to the teacher to be quite dull and unruly. Many other cases may be found of people who failed and used the failure to motivate them to achie ve, to succeed, and to become famous. But, unfortunately, for most people failure is the end of their struggle, not the beginning. There are few, if any, famous failures.

Well then, why does anyone want fame? Do you? Do you want to be known to man y people and admired by them? Do you want the money that usually comes with fame ? Do you want the media to notice everything you do or say both in public and in private? Do you want them hounding you, questioning you and trying to undo you? In American politics it is very obvious that to be famous is to be the target o f everyone who disagrees with you as well as of the media. Fame turns all the li ghts on and while it gives power and prestige, it takes the you out of you: you must be what the public thinks you are, not what you really are or could be. The politician, like the performer, must please his or her audiences and that often means saying things he does not moan or does not believe in fully. No wonder so few people trust politicians. But we have not answered the question at the begi nning of this paragraph: why does anyone want fame? Several reasons come to mind : to demonstrate excellence in some field; to gain the admiration and love of ma ny others; to be the one everyone talks about; to show family and friends you ar e more than they thought you were. Probably you can list some other reasons, but I think these are reasonably common.

I believe that fame and celebrity, influence and power, success and failure, reality and illusion are all somehow neatly woven into a seamless fabric we lau ghingly call reality. I say to those who desperately seek fame and fortune, cele brity: good luck. But what will you do when you have caught your tail, your success, your fame? Keep chasing it? If you do catch it, hang on for dear life becau se falling is not as painful as landing. See you soon famous and almost famous, wayfarers on this unbright, nonlinear planet!

给儿子的信

F. D.斯坦厄普

F. D.斯坦厄普（1694—1773），即切斯菲尔德勋爵，英国著名的政治家。他所著的《致子书》是英国文学名著，本文即节选自此书。

亲爱的孩子：

惹人喜欢要有必备的条件，但又是一门不易学到的艺术，很难将其归纳成规则。你自己的良心与观察力将比我教授给你的还要多。“己所不欲，勿施于人”是据我所知的取信于人的最可靠的办法。细心留意别人怎样做让你愉快，那么很可能你做同样的事也会使别人愉悦。如果别人对你的性情、兴趣甚至弱点甚为关心，让你满心喜欢，请相信，你对人施以同样的热情和关照，也一定会使他们欢心。与人为伴来往时，需因循其中的氛围，勿矫揉造作，发现同伴的幽默之处时，就诚然开怀一乐甚至调笑一番，这是每个人对群体应具备的态度。在人前不要说瞎话，没有比这更让人讨厌和不悦的事了。如果你恰好有一则很简短而又相当切题的故事，可用最简洁明了的语言叙述一番。即便如此，也要表示出你并不擅长讲述，而仅是因为它实在太简短才使你情不自禁地这样做。

在交谈中，首先就要摈弃以自我为中心的癖好，决不试图让别人对自己的私事或者自己关注的事产生兴趣。尽管这些事情对你来说兴趣盎然，但对于别人却味同嚼蜡，不得要领。再者，个人的私事也不可能永远隐秘。无论你自以为有什么好处，切忌在人前自爱自怜地展示，也不要像许多人那样，挖空心思地引导谈话，以伺机自我表现一番。如果你确有长处，必会被人发现，不必自己点出，何况这样做最好。当与人有是非之争时，绝不要激动地大喊大叫，即使你自以为正确或者知道自己是对的，也要善加控制，冷静地说出自己的意见，这是说服人的惟一方法。但如果这样仍不奏效，就试着变个话题，高高兴兴地说：“我俩谁也说服不了谁，而且也不是非得说服对方不可，我们讨论别的吧。”

要记住，与人交往时要尊重习俗的礼仪。在这一群人中恰如其分的话语，对另一群人而言却不适宜。于某些人适宜的幽默、妙语、甚至小小的出格行为，换个地方会显得平淡自然，或令人苦恼。说一个词儿或者打个手势，在某群人中即暗示着某种性格、习惯和隐语，而一旦离开那种特定的氛围，就会毫无意义。人们常常在这一点上犯过失。他们喜欢把在某群人、某种环境中的得意言行到处搬到别的地方使用，而此时却风趣尽失，或不合时宜，或张冠李戴而唐突无聊。是的，他们常用这样笨拙的开场白：“告诉你一件很棒的事！”或者“我要告诉你世上最绝妙的……”希望这些话能勾起对方的期待，但结果是彻底的绝望，使得说这些话的人看起来像个十足的傻子。

如果你获得别人的好感和情感，无论是男人或女人，要特别留意去发现他们可能具备的长处，以及他们明显的不足之处。人人都会有缺陷，但要公正而善意地对待别人的这个或那个不足。人们还会有许多过人之处，或者至少具有可以称作优异的地方。尽管人们喜欢听到对其自知的优点的赞美，但他们最感兴趣的乃是对自己渴望具备然而尚不能自信的长处的赞许。

Letter to His Son

F. D. Stanhope

Dear boy,

The art of pleasing is a very necessary one to possess, but a very difficult one to acquire. It can hardly be reduced to rules; and your own good sense and observation will teach you more of it than I can. “Do as you would be done by,” is the surest method that I know of pleasing.Observe carefully what pleases you in others, and probably the same things in you will please others. If you are p leased with the complaisance and attention of others to your humors, your tastes, or your weaknesses, depend upon it, the same complaisance and attention on you r part to theirs will equally please them. Take the tone of the company that you are in, and do not pretend to give it; be serious, gay, or even trifling, as yo u find the present humor of the company; this is an attention due from every ind ividual to the majority. Do not tell stories in company; there is nothing more t edious and disagreeable; if by chance you know a very short story, and exceeding ly applicable to the present subject of conversation, tell it in as few words as possible; and even then, throw out that you do not love to tell stories, but th at the shortness of it tempted you.

Of all things banish the egotism out of your conversation, and never think of entertaining people with your own personal concerns or private affairs; though they are interesting to you, they are tedious and impertinent to everybody else ; besides that, one cannot keep one's own private affairs too secret. Whatever y ou think your own excellencies may be, do not affectedly display them in company ; nor labor, as many people do, to give that turn to the conversation, which may supply you with an opportunity of exhibiting them. If they are real, they will infallibly be discovered, without your pointing them out yourself, and with much more advantage. Never maintain an argument with heat and clamor, though you thi nk or know yourself to be in the right; but give your opinion modestly and coolly, which is the only way to convince; and, if that does not do, try to change th e conversation, by saying, with good humor, “We shall hardly convince one anoth er; nor is it necessary that we should, so let us talk of something else. ”

Remember that there is a local propriety to be observed in all companies; an d that what is extremely proper in one company may be, and often is, highly impr oper in another. The jokes, the bon mots, the little adventures, which may do v ery well in one company, will seem flat and tedious, when related in another. Th e particular characters, the habit, the cant of one company may give merit to a word, or a gesture, which would have none at all if divested of those accidental circumstances. Here people very commonly err; and fond of something that has en tertained them in one company, and in certain circumstances, repeat it with emph asis in another, where it is either insipid, or, it may be, offensive, by being ill timed or misplaced. Nay, they often do it with this silly preamble: “I will tell you an excellent thing, ” or, “I will tell you the best thing in the world.” This raises expectations, which, when absolutely disappointed, make the rela ror of this excellent thing look, very deservedly, like a fool.

If you would particularly gain the affection and friendship of particular pe ople, whether men or women, endeavor to find out their predominant excellency, if they have one, and their prevailing weakness, which everybody has; and do just ice to the one, and something more than justice to the other. Men have various o bjects in which they may excel, or at least would be thought to excel; and, thou gh they love to hear justice done to them, where they know that they excel, yet they are most and best flattered upon those points where they wish to excel, and yet are doubtful whether they do or not.

工作和娱乐

温斯顿·丘吉尔

温斯顿·丘吉尔(1874—1965)，英国政治家、作家。二战中曾连任两届英国首相，为二战胜利立下汗马功劳。他在文学上也有很深的造诣，1953年获诺贝尔文学奖。

想要获得真正的幸福与平安，一个人至少应该有两三种业余爱好，而且必须是真正的爱好。到了晚年才开始说“我对什么什么感兴趣”是毫无益处的，这样的尝试只会增加精神上的负担。在与自己日常工作无关的某些领域中，一个人可以获得渊博的知识，但他几乎得不到实在的益处或放松。喜欢干什么就干什么是无益的，你得干一行爱一行。广义而言，人类可以分成三个阶层：劳累而死的人、忧虑而死的人和烦恼而死的人。对于那些体力劳动者来说，在经过一周精疲力竭的工作之后，周六下午给他们提供踢足球或打棒球的机会是没有意义的。对于政界人士、专业人士或商人来说，他们已为棘手的事务操劳或烦恼了6天，在周末再请他们为琐事劳神，同样是毫无意义的。

或者可以这么说，理智的、勤奋的、有用的人可以分为两类：第一类，他们的工作就是工作，娱乐就是娱乐；第二类，他们的工作和娱乐是合二为一的。当然，很大一部分人都属于第一类人。他们可以得到相应的补偿。在办公室或工厂里长时间的工作，带给他们的不仅是维持生计的金钱，还带给他们一种渴求娱乐的强烈欲望，哪怕这种娱乐消遣是以最简单、最朴实的方式进行。命运的宠儿则属于第二类人。他们的生活自然而和谐。在他们看来，工作时间永远不够多，每一天在他们看来都是假期；而当正常的假日到来时，他们总会抱怨他们正在全神贯注的休假被强行中断。然而，有一些东西对于这两类人来说是十分必要的，那就是变换一下视角，改变一下氛围，努力做一件别的事情。事实上，每隔一段时间，那些把工作看做娱乐的人们很可能最需要以某种方式把工作驱赶出他们的大脑。

Work and Pleasure

Winston Churchill

To be really happy and really safe, one ought to have at least two or three hobbies, and they must all be real. It is no use starting late in life to say:“I will take an interest in this or that. ” Such an attempt only aggravates the st rain of mental effort. Aman may acquire great knowledge of topics unconnected with his daily work, and yet hardly get any benefit or relief. It is no use doing what you like; you have got to like what you do. Broadly speaking, human beings may be divided into three classes: those who are toiled to death, those who are worried to death, and those who are bored to death. It is no use offering the m anual labourer, tired out with a hard week's sweat and effort, the chance of pla ying a game of football or baseball on Saturday afternoon. It is no use inviting the politician or the professional or business man, who has been working or wor rying about serious things for six days, to work or worry about trifling things at the week end.

It may also be said that rational, industrious, useful human beings are divi ded into two classes: first, those whose work is work and whose pleasure is plea sure; and secondly, those whose work and pleasure are one. Of these the former a re the majority. They have their compensations. The long hours in the office or the factory bring with them as their reward, not only the means of sustenance, b ut a keen appetite for pleasure even in its simplest and most modest forms. But Fortune's favoured children belong to the second class. Their life is a natural harmony. For them the working hours are never long enough. Each day is a holiday, and ordinary holidays when they come are grudged as enforced interruptions in an absorbing vocation. Yet to both classes the need of an alternative outlook, of a change of atmosphere, of a diversion of effort, is essential. Indeed, it may well be that those whose work is their pleasure are those who most need the mea ns of banishing it at intervals from their minds.

关于慷慨

阿诺德·本涅特

要做到真正的慷慨，也就是说将己之所欲施之与他人，我认为是很困难的。从严格的意义上看，我怀疑自己一生是否真正慷慨过。今天下午在和E谈话时，我产生了这样的感觉。当时的情形是我需要给人20镑，而我还没有确切地得到一个消息，就是我将从建筑师那里得到巴黎的房东已答应归还的保证金。那20镑也许真的是我很需要的。虽然我当即决定要给别人，但这份给予却不是发自内心的慷慨本能，而是一种私下里不情愿的给予，是考虑体面与礼貌而做出的决定。这不叫慷慨。

同样地，在吃饭的时候，我坐在E和柏格里特夫人之间。前者满眼泪水，一肚子苦水。后者是一位老女人，她邋遢、喜欢唠叨而且性格怪僻，虽然有时也不乏诙谐。 M 远在巴黎。我的心被恼人的、烦心的、空虚的灰暗生存状态压得沉甸甸的。我憎恶E的不幸，讨厌B夫人的苍老和怪僻，我渴望在我身边环绕的是青春、美丽和世俗的成功。然而仅在4个小时前，我还在对自己说理智应把任何环境中的原材料转化成幸福的果实。

On Generosity

Arnold Bennett

It must be very difficult, I think, to be really generous, i.e. to give some thing which you need. I doubt whether in this strict sense I have ever been really generous in all my life. I felt in this afternoon, in talking with E., when it was a question of giving 20 before I had heard definitely from my architect th at the landlord at Paris had undertaken to refund my deposit. I might really wan t that 20, and though I decided at once to give it, I gave it not from a spontan eous instinct of generosity, but unwillingly (within myself), and in obedience to my ideas of rightness and propriety. Something forced me to give it. This is n ot generosity.

As at meals I sat between E., in tears and full of disasters, and Mme. Berge ret, an old woman, untidy, radoteuse, maniaque, though witty sometimes, and M. a way in Paris, the unpleasant, empty, unsatisfying greyness of existence weighed on me. I en voulait(法语，意为怨恨) against E. for being unfortunate, and against Mme. B. for being old and maniaque, and I wanted to be surrounded by youth, be auty, and worldly success. Yet only 4 hours previously I had been preaching to myself that it was my Reason's business to manufacture my happiness out of the rawmaterial of no natter what environment I found myself in.

论处世

杰罗姆·克雷克·杰罗姆

杰罗姆·克雷克·杰罗姆（1859—1927），英国小说家，剧作家。著有小说《游手好闲的闲情逸致》、《三人在船上》等。《论处世》是一篇论人情世态的妙文。

纷繁嘈杂的人群啊！王子与乞丐，罪人与圣人，屠夫、面包师与烛台商，铁匠与裁缝，农民与海员，所有的人一起向前拥挤着。这里既有头戴假发、身穿礼服的法律顾问，又有头缠肮脏毛巾的老年犹太成衣商；这里既有一身红军装的士兵，又有戴着飘带帽子和旧棉手套的送丧吹鼓手；这里既有动作笨拙的学者，翻阅着他那发黄的书页，又有香气袭人的演员，炫耀着华丽的豹皮大衣；既有圆滑的政客，叫喊着立法万能，又有徒步游历的江湖小贩，高举着他那骗人的狗皮膏药；这里既有油嘴滑舌的资本家，又有身强力壮的雇佣工；这里既有科学家，又有擦鞋匠；这里既有诗人，又有收水费的人；这里既有内阁部长，又有芭蕾舞演员；这里既有自夸其酒好的糟鼻子酒商，又有每夜50镑报酬的戒酒宣讲者；这里既有法官，又有骗子；这里既有神父，又有赌徒；这里既有珠光宝气的公爵夫人，笑容可掬，雍容华贵，又有厌倦了烹调、瘦骨嶙峋的客栈老板；这里还有浓妆艳抹、趾高气扬的货色。

他们肩并着肩挣扎着向前，掺杂着尖叫、咒骂、祈祷、欢笑、歌唱和悲叹。他们的步伐永不停止，这种竞争也永不结束。没有路边的小憩，没有阴凉喷泉旁的停留，也没有绿荫下的歇息。向前，向前，向前——他们顶着烈日，随着拥挤的人群，满面风尘——向前，一旦倒下，就难免被淘汰——向前，哪怕呕心沥血，路途坎坷 ——向前，直到心力交瘁、头晕目眩，咕咕的呻吟声告诉后来者时机已到。

然而，尽管人群前进的速度使人疲于奔命，道路坎坷颇费脚力，除了懒汉、傻瓜，谁能避免这艰难的行程呢？谁能置身局外旁观这喧嚣嘈杂呢？正像夜行的旅客望着眼前仙子们的欢宴，情不自禁地夺杯畅饮，纵步融入狂舞的人群。我正是这种人。我知道路边有树阴、心满意足的水烟筒、甜荷叶等比喻都不合适。这些比喻虽然听起来美好、深刻，但我恐怕自己不是这种人——只要外界稍微有点趣事上演，我就无法安坐在树阴下吸烟。想来我更像那些爱尔兰人，一看见有人群聚集，便打发小女出去打听是否在吵架，“若真是这样，爸爸倒要去凑些热闹。”

我喜欢激烈的竞争，而且喜欢旁观竞争。我喜欢打听他人的战况，当然竞争靠的是勇敢顽强，光明正大，而不是投机取巧，玩弄诡计；它能激荡撒克逊人传统的战斗热血，就像学童时代“与厄运抗争的骑士”的故事一样使我们童心振奋。

人生的斗争也是一场同可怕的厄运的抗争。每个时代都存在巨人、苍龙之类的庞然大物，它们所守护的金子根本不可能像小说里描写的那样会被轻易拿走。在小说里，阿尔格农最后流连地望了一眼祖先的房屋，抹去眼角的泪珠，离家而去；三年后，他竟然衣锦还乡、腰缠万贯。小说家并没有告诉我们“他是怎样做到这一切的”，这真是个遗憾，因为这段经历肯定会极为精彩。

On Getting On in the World

J. K. Jerome

A motley throng — a motley throng! Prince and beggar, sinner and saint, but cher and baker and candlestick maker, tinkers and tailors, and ploughboys and sailors — all jostling along together. Here the counsel in his wig and gown, and here the old Jew clothesman under his dingy tiara; here the soldier in his scar let, and here the undertaker's mute in streaming hat band and worn cotton glove s; here the scholar, fumbling his faded leaves, and here the scented actor, dang ling his showy seals. Here the glib politician, crying his legislative panaceas; and here the peripatetic Cheap Jack, holding aloft his quack cures for human ills. Here The sleek capitalist, and there the sinewy labourer; here the man of sc ience, and here the shoe black; here the poet, and here the water rate collect or; here the cabinet minister, and there the ballet dancer. Here a red nosed p ublican, shouting the praises of his vats; and here a temperance lecturer at fif ty pounds a night; here a judge, and there a swindler; here a priest, and there a gambler. Here a jewelled duchess, smiling and gracious; here a thin lodging house keeper, irritable with cooking; and here a wabbling, strutting thing, tawdry in paint and finery.

Cheek by cheek, they struggle onward. Screaming, cursing, and praying, laugh ing, singing, and moaning, they rush past side by side. Their speed never slacke ns, the race never ends. There is no wayside rest for them, no halt by cooling f ountains, no pause beneath green shades. On, on, on—on through the heat and t he crowd and the dust—on, or they will be trampled down, and lost — on, with throbbing brain and tottering limbs — on, till the heart grows sick, and the e yes grow blurred, and a gurgling groan tells those behind they may close up anot her space.

And yet, in spite of the killing pace and the stony track, who, but the slug gard or the dolt, can hold aloof from the course? Who — like the belated travel ler that stands watching fairy revels till he snatches and drains the goblin cup , and springs into the whirling circle — can view the mad tumult, and not be dr awn into its midst? Not I, for one. I confess to the wayside arbour, the pipe of contentment, and the lotus leaves being altogether unsuitable metaphors. They s ounded very nice and philosophical, but I'm afraid I am not the sort of person to sit in arbours, smoking pipes, when there is any fun going on outside. I think I more resemble the Irishman, who, seeing a crowd collecting, sent his little g irl out to ask if there was going to be a row —“ 'Cos, if so, father would like to be in it. ”

I love the fierce strife. I like to watch it. I like to hear of people getti ng on in it — battling their way bravely and fairly — that is, not slipping th rough by luck or trickery. It stirs one's old Saxon fighting blood, like the tal es of “knights who fought against fearful odds” thrilled us in our schoolboy days.

And fighting the battle of life is fighting against fearful odds, too.There are giants and dragons in every age, and the golden casket that they guard is not so easy to win as it appears in the story books. There, Algernon takes one long, last look at the ancestral hall, dashes the teardrop from his eye, and goes o ff — to return in three year's time, rolling in riches. The authors do not tell us “how it's done, ” which is a pity, for it would surely prove exciting.

论奢华

奥里弗·哥尔德史密斯

哥尔德史密斯擅长创作批判性文章，严厉抨击浮夸不实的假道学，强调人类原始的美德。本文即是他独排众议，否定“奢华”与人类罪恶的绝对关系，并赞扬它对世界文明的贡献。

看看这一幅原始单纯的自然照片，告诉我，我最尊敬的朋友，你热爱疲劳和孤独吗？你会感叹四处漂泊的鞑靼人的节俭，还是后悔生于文明人士的奢侈矫饰中？或者你会对我说，每种生活方式都有其特有的罪恶。文明的国家罪恶较多，不如此可怕凶残或者不是最可怕的国家罪恶较少，这难道不是事实吗？背信和欺诈是文明国家的丑行，荒蛮之地的居民则是轻信和暴力。文明之国的奢华能抵的上野蛮国家无人性罪恶的一半吗？当然，那些痛责奢华的哲学家，对奢华益处只是一知半解；他们好像没有察觉到，我们所拥有的奢华不仅是我们知识中最伟大的部分，甚至还是我们的美德。

当一个高谈阔论者讲到抑制我们的欲望，只用最少的东西来满足我们的感官，只用大自然所缺乏的东西来供给它们，这听起来好像很美妙；但是，如果能无辜、安适地尽享这些欲望，这不比抑制它们更能令人满意吗?快乐生活所得到的满足不比了无生趣地闷头思考之满足要好吗?人工制造的必需品变化愈多，我们快乐的圈子就越大；只有需求被满足之后，快乐才会存在；所以，奢华在增加我们需求的同时，也扩大了我们幸福的空间。

仔细调查研究任何一个以富饶和智慧而闻名于世的国家的历史，你将发现，没有最初的奢华就没有今天的英明智慧；你还会发现诗人、哲学家、甚至爱国者也在“奢华”的列车上行进。理由是明显的：只有在发现知识系于感官的逸乐时，我们才会好奇而去求知。各种感觉会为我们指明方向，产生对创造发明的种种评论。告诉戈壁沙漠土人月亮视差的精确测量，他不觉得这个信息能满足他什么需求；他迷惑：为什么会有人肯这么费劲，花这么多钱去解决这么无用的难题。但是如果把这个和他的幸福联系起来的话，向他表明这样做可以改进海上航行，有了这样的更暖的外套、更好的枪或者更棒的刀，立刻，他就会为如此伟大的改良而兴奋。总之，我们只想知道我们渴望拥有什么；无论我们如何反对它，奢华都激发了我们的好奇心，使我们渴望变得聪明。

On Luxury

Oliver Goldsmith

From such a picture of Nature in primeval simplicity, tell me, my much respe cted friend, are you in love with fatigue and solitude? Do you sigh for the frug ality of the wandering Tartar, or regret being born amidst the luxury and dissim ulation of the polite? Rather tell me, has not every kind of life vices peculiarly its own? Is it not a truth, that refined countries have more vices, but those not so terrible barbarous nations few, and they of the most hideous complexion? Perfidy and fraud are the vices of civilized nations, credulity and violence those of the inhabitants of the desert. Does the luxury of the one produce half the evils of the inhumanity of the other? Certainly those philosophers, who declai magainst luxury, have but little understood its benefits; they seem insensible, that to luxury we owe not only the greatest part of our knowledge, but even of our virtue.

It may sound fine in the mouth of a declaimer when he talks of subduing our appetites, of teaching every sense to be content with a bare sufficiency, and of supplying only the wants of Nature; but is there not more satisfaction in indul ging those appetites, if with innocence and safety, than in restraining them? Am not I better pleased in enjoyment than in the sullen satisfaction of thinking that I can live without enjoyment? The more various our artificial necessities, the wider is our circle of pleasure; for all pleasure consists in obviating neces sities as they rise; luxury, therefore, as it increases our wants, increases of capacity for happiness.

Examine the history of any country remarkable for opulence and wisdom, you will find they would never have been wise had they not been first luxurious; you will find poets, philosophers, and even patriots, marching in Luxury's train. The reason is obvious; we then only are curious after knowledge when we find it co nnected with sensual happiness. The senses ever point out the way, and reflectio ncomments upon the discovery. Inform a native of the desert of Kobi, of the exa ct measure of the parallax of the moon, he finds no satisfaction at all in the information; he wonders how any could take such pains, and lay out such treasures in order to solve so useless a difficulty; but connect it with his happiness, by showing that it improves navigation, that by such an investigation he may have a warmer coat, a better gun, or a finer knife, and he is instantly in raptures at so great an improvement. In short, we only desire to know what we desire to p ossess; and whatever we may talk against it, luxury adds the spur to curiosity, and gives us a desire of becoming more wise.

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:38:40

如果我休息,我就会生锈

奥里森·马登

奥里森·马登（1848—1924），美国著名的成功学家。他创办的《成功》杂志在美国无人不晓，它通过创造性地传播成功学改变了无数美国人的命运。他被公认为美国成功学的奠基人和最伟大的成功励志导师。

在一把旧钥匙上面发现的具有深远意义的文字——如果我休息，我就生锈。对于那些为懒散而苦恼的人而言，这无疑是一则最好的箴言。甚至那些勤劳的人都会接受并从中受益，将它视为警语。如果一个人让他的身体机能休息，像钥匙上没有被使用的铁一样，那么他的身体很快就会表现出生锈的迹象，从而无法从事被授予的工作。

想要获得与伟人相同成就的人，必须持续不断地使用身体，保持健康的体魄，这才足以打开知识之门——守卫着专业、科学、文学、农业——每一道人类知识领域的入口。

勤勉能使钥匙发亮，从而开启成功的宝藏。如果修斯·米勒在一天的矿场劳累之后，在傍晚休息和娱乐，他绝不会成为一位名垂青史的地质学家。著名的数学家爱德蒙·斯通如果将休闲的时光用于消遣娱乐，他决不可能出版一本数学字典，也就不可能发现打开数学科学大门的钥匙了。如果年轻的苏格兰青年，霍格森，在山腰上放羊时让忙碌的大脑昏昏沉睡，而不是拿一串珠子来计算星座位置的话，他也无法成为一位声名大振的天文学家了。

劳动征服一切——这里所指的的劳动，并非变化多端的、断断续续的或者偏离方向的劳动；而是实在的、持续的、朝着正确方向而每日坚持不断的努力。正如自由的代价是无休止的警惕，永无止境的勤勉则是获得崇高而持久的成功所必须付出的代价。

If I rest,I rust

Orison Marden

The significant inion found on an old key — “If I rest, I rust” — would be an excellent motto for those who are afflicted with the slightest taint of idleness. Even the industrious might adopt it with advantage to serve as are minder that, if one allows his faculties to rest, like the iron in the unused ke y, they will soon show signs of rust, and, ultimately, cannot do the work requir ed of them.

Those who would attain the heights reached and kept by great men must keep their faculties polished by constant use, so that they may unlock the doors of knowledge, the gates that guard the entrances to the professions, to science, art, literature, agriculture, — every department of human endeavor.

Industry keeps bright the key that opens the treasure of achievement. If Hug h Miller, after toiling all day in a quarry, had devoted his evenings to rest an d recreation, he would never have become a famous geologist. The celebrated math ematician, Edmund Stone, would never have published a mathematical dictionary, n ever have found the key to science of mathematics, if he had given his spare mom ents to idleness. Had the little Scotch lad, Ferguson, allowed the busy brain to go to sleep while he tended sheep on the hillside, instead of calculating the p osition of the stars by a string of beads, he would never have become a famous a stronomer.

Labor vanquished all,— not inconstant,spasmodic, or ill directed labor; bu t faithful, unremitting, daily effort toward a well directed purpose. Just as t ruly as eternal vigilance is the price of liberty, so is eternal industry the pr ice of noble and enduring success.

如何安度晚年

伯特兰·罗素

作为一个哲学家兼文学家，伯特兰·罗素的文章以透辟、缜密著称。这篇文章节选自他的散文集《来自回忆的画像》。

从心理学上来讲，在老年时期要防止这样两种危险。第一是过分沉缅于过去。生活于过去之中，为已过的好时光而抱憾，或因朋友作古而痛苦，这些都是没有什么用处的。人的思想应该朝着未来，朝着还可以有所作为的方面。这并不是容易做到的，因为一个人的过去是一份不断加重的负担。人们容易承认自己的感情，过去比现在丰富，自己的思想，过去比现在深刻。如果这是事实，就把它忘掉。如果忘掉它，那它可能将不成其为事实。

另外一件要避免的事情是跟着年轻人，渴望从他们的生机中吸取力量。当你的孩子们已经长大，他们就要过属于他们自己的生活，如果你还是像小时候那样对他们关心备至，你就可能成为他们的负担，除非他们特别冷漠。我不是说对他们应该不闻不问，但是你所给予的关心应是理性的，解囊相助的（如果可能的话），而非过于感情冲动。动物在自己的后代一旦能够生活自理时，就不再给予照顾，可是人类，因为幼年时期太长，很难做到这一点。

我觉得一个人能做到对合适的活动兴趣盎然、不理会自己的个人得失，那么，他就很容易享有成功的晚年，因为经过长期积累的经验在此可以结出累累的硕果，而经过经验产生的智慧在这个时候既有用武之地，而又不至咄咄逼人。叫已经长大成人的孩子不要犯错误是没有好处的，因为他们不会信任你，同时也由于犯错误是接受教育的不可缺少的一环。但如果你做不到不计个人得失，那么，不将你的心放在儿孙后辈身上，你便会觉得生活空虚无聊。

如果是这样，你必须知道：尽管你还能给他们物质上的帮助，诸如给点补贴或织几件毛衣，可是你千方不要指望他们会喜欢跟你在一起。

有些老人为死的恐惧所困扰。假如年轻人有这种恐惧，那也没有什么可说的。年轻人有理由害怕战死在战场上；但当他们想到被骗走了生命所能赋予的美好生活时，他们有理由表示不满。但假如对于一个尝尽人间疾苦，已经完成该做的一切的老年人来讲，怕死就有点不大好了。

克服这种恐惧的最好办法是——至少在我看来是这样的——使你的爱好逐渐扩大，越来越超出个人的范围，最后你的自我之墙将一点一点地退却，你的生命将越来越和人类的生命融合在一起。一个人的一生应该像一条河——开始很小，被两岸紧紧约束，激烈地冲过岩石和瀑布。渐渐地它变宽了，两岸退却了，河水静静地流着。到最后,不经过任何可见的停留，就和大海汇合在一起，毫无痛苦地失去它自身的存在。一个在老年能这样对待生活的人，将不会感到死亡的恐惧，因为他所关心的事物将继续下去。假如由于生命力的减退，倦意日增，安息的想法也许就是可喜之处。我希望我能死于工作之时，并且在我快死的时候能知道别人将继续做我不能再做的工作，同时能为自己已完成力所能及的一切而心满意足。

How to Grow Old

Bertrand Russell

Psychologically there are two dangers to be guarded against in old age. One of these is undue absorption in the past. It does not do to live in memories, in regrets for the good old days, or in sadness about friends who are dead. One's thoughts must be directed to the future, and to things about which there is some thing to be done. This is not always easy; one's own past is a gradually increas ing weight. It is easy to think to oneself that one's emotions used to be more v ivid than they are, and one's mind more keen. If this is true it should be forgo tten, and if it is forgotten it will probably not be true.

The other thing to be avoided is clinging to youth in the hope of sucking vi gour from its vitality. When your children are grown up they want to live their own lives, and if you continue to be as interested in them as you were when they were young, you are likely to become a burden to them, unless they are unusually callous — I do not mean that one should be without interest in them, but one' s interest should be contemplative and, if possible, philanthropic, but not unduly emotional.Animals become indifferent to their young as soon as their young can look after themselves, but human beings, owing to the length of infancy, find this difficult.

I think that a successful old age is easiest for those who have strong imper sonal interests involving appropriate activities. It is in this sphere that long experience is really fruitful, and it is in this sphere that the wisdom born of experience can be exercised without being oppressive. It is no use telling grow nup children not to make mistakes, both because they will not believe you, and b ecause mistakes are an essential part of education. But if you are one of those who are incapable of impersonal interests, you may find that your life will bee mpty unless you concern yourself with your children and grandchildren. In that case you must realize that while you can still render them material services, suc has making them an allowance or knitting them jumpers, you must not expect that they will enjoy your company.

Some old people are oppressed by the fear of death. In the young there is a justification for this feeling. Young men who have reason to fear that they will be killed in battle may justifiably feel bitter in the thought that they have been cheated of the best things that life has to offer. But in an old man who has known human joys and sorrows, and has achieved whatever work it was in him to do, the fear of death is somewhat abject and ignoble.

The best way to overcome it — so at least it seems to me — is to make your interests gradually wider and more impersonal, until bit by bit the walls of the ego recede, and your life becomes increasingly merged in the universal life. A n individual human existence should be like a river — small at first, narrowly contained within its banks, and rushing passionately past rocks and over waterfalls. Gradually the river grows wider, the banks recede, the waters flow more quietly, and in the end, without any visible break, they become merged in the sea, and painlessly lose their individual being. The man who, in old age, can see his life in this way, will not suffer from the fear of death, since the things he cares for will continue. And if, with the decay of vitality, weariness increases, the thought of rest will not be unwelcome. I should wish to die while still at work, knowing that others will carry on what I can no longer do and content in the thought that what was possible has been done.

论招人厌烦的人

罗伯特·林德

罗伯特·林德(1879—1949)，英国近代散文名家，生于爱尔兰，曾任伦敦《新闻报》文学编辑，工作之余著述颇丰，在散文创作方面有较高成就。

我有时觉得，那种最招人厌烦的人就是那种喜欢跟人讲从一个地方到另一地方有多少条路好走的人。我一生中感到最厌烦的一回，是听一位老先生向一位上年纪的女人讲解，她从拿丁山门回汉普斯台可能走的全部街道。她曾向他抱怨说她走的那条路太费时间。于是，他一大串的絮絮叨叨便开了头，其中包括所有的公共汽车路线、街道名和站名。接下来，他用一种平铺直叙的语调指点给她整个西部和北部伦敦的每一条路。他奉告给她所有可以换车地方的地名，并且还为她一一详述一路上所有的酒店名字。最后我感觉到，他好像连他自己也被弄烦了，至于我们旁人就更不用说了；但他还是不敢把话停下来，想来或许因为他再没有别的什么好谈了。等到最后他起身走开时，我早已陷入昏迷状态，什么卡门敦大街、威尔土亲王路以及不列颠街等等之类街名在我的脑海中不断碰撞，乱作一团。

另外一种讨人厌烦的谈话方式是这样一种人的谈话方式。这种人一谈起政治来，就把所有陈词滥调的议论全都抖搂出来，那神气活像他是第一次使用它们。我自己就一向是这类讨人厌烦的人。年轻的时候，我因为认识不清，曾误以为格莱斯顿先生的爱尔兰自治提案是危险和有害的，于是每次遇见我那位倡议地方自治的好朋友时，我总爱把话扯到那个大问题上去。路上并肩走着的时候，我便往他的耳朵里搪塞那最荒唐的糊涂话，目光炯炯地为他讲述了历来英国对爱尔兰的全部德政，并向他大声疾呼那些从自治之前的格莱斯顿以及威廉·哈尔考特爵士那里引来的尽人皆知的陈腐语言。我从来没有发过一点新鲜议论，因为我对此一无所知。我像一只被激怒了的鹦鹉，只知道重复一大堆可以想见的愚昧无知话语。就连他那张很有耐性的脸孔上的痛苦表情也不能让我停止。但是有一天，他实在忍无可忍，突然脸上一红，对着我冷冷来了一句：“我的天，你真是个够讨厌的人。”当然，谁也不愿意被人当成讨厌的人，而对一个当面说你讨厌的人，你便很难继续再和他辩论下去了。当我们了解到自己在招人厌烦时，我们就像泄气的气球。我当时的情况就是这样。拉·罗施夫考曾说过：“我们能原谅那些使我们感到厌烦的人，但不能原谅感到我们厌烦的人。”不过震动一过，我倒没有因为友人的坦率而减少了我对他的友情。从那次以后我肯定还曾经招不少人厌烦过；但是除了家里人之外，一直倒还没有人向我讲过我讨他们厌烦。我得认真研究别人的面部表情才能知道我是否在招他们厌烦……

On Being a Bore

Robert Lynd

The worst bores, I sometimes think, are those who love telling people the va rious routes from one place to another.I have never been more bored in my life t han when listening to an old gentleman explaining to an old lady the several ways in which she might have come from Notting Hill Gate to Hampstead.She had compl ained of the time the journey had taken and immediately he was off on a long rig marole consisting of the number of buses and the frames of streets and stations. He went on in a flat voice conducting her, as it seemed to me, through every str eet in west and north London. He told her of all the various places where she mi ght have changed buses and named most of the public houses on the way.In the end, it seemed to me, he was boring himself as well as the rest of us; but he dare d not stop, I fancy, because he could think of nothing else to talk about.By the time he rose to go I was in a coma with words like Camden High Street, Prince of Wales Road and Britannia jostling each other in my brain.

Another boring form of conversation is that of the man who, when talking politics, trots out all the old threadbare arguments withs the air of a person usin g them for the first time.I have been a bore of this kind myself. As a boy I was blind enough to regard Mr.Gladstone's proposal of Home Rule for Ireland as bots dangerous and wicked, and, whenever I met a great friend of mine who was a Home Ruler, I would drag the conversation round to the great theme.I shouted the wil dest nonsense into his ear as I walked beside him in the streets, telling him with blazing eyes of all the good England had done to Ireland and yelling all the usual musty quotations from the Pre Home Rule Gladstone and Sir William Harcourt. Not once did I use an original argument, for I knew none. I was merely an in furiated parrot, speaking out of the richest store of ignorance conceivable. Sig ns of distress on his patient face could not stop me; but one day, driven beyond endurance, he turned to me with a slight flush and said quietly:“My God, what a bore you are! ”Now no one likes to be thought a bore, and it is difficult to go on arguing with a man who tells you that you are boring him.To realize that on e is boring somebody is to become a pricked balloon. I certainly did. La Roche foucauld tells us that “we can forgive those who bore us, but we cannot forgi ve those whom we bore, ” yet, after the first moment of shock, I never liked my f riend the less for his candour. Since then I must have bored many people; but o utside the family circle no one has since told me that I was boring them. I have to study the expression on their faces to know.

无知常乐

罗伯特·林德

普通人只会使用电话，却无法解释电话的工作原理。他把电话、火车、铸造排字机、飞机都看作自然而然的事情，就像我们的祖父一代将福音书里的奇迹故事视为理所当然一样。对于这些事，他既不产生怀疑，也不去了解。我们每个人真正下工夫去了解、弄清楚的似乎只是很小范围内的某几件事。大多数人把日常工作以外的一切知识都当作花哨无用的东西。然而，我们还是时时抗拒着我们的无知。我们有时振作起来，进行思索。我们信手拈来一个什么题目，思考它，甚至入迷——关于死后的生命，或者关于某些据说亚里士多德也迷惑不解的问题，例如：“打喷嚏，从中午到子夜则吉，从子夜至中午则凶，是什么原因呢?”为求知识而陷入无知，这是人类所欣赏的最大乐事之一。归根结底，无知的极大乐趣在于提出问题。一个人，如果丧失了这种提问的乐趣，或者把它换成了教条的答案，并且以此为乐，那么，他的头脑已经开始僵化了。裘伊这样的勤学好问的人是我们所羡慕的，他到了六十多岁居然还能坐下来研究生理学。我们大多数人还没到他这么大的岁数就早已不再有自己无知的感觉了。我们甚至对自己一点浅薄的知识感到沾沾自喜，而把与日俱增的年龄看作是培养无所不知的天然学堂。我们忘记了：苏格拉底之所以智慧名垂后世，并不是因为他无所不知，而是因为他在70岁高龄时还明白自己依然一无所知。

Ignorance Make One Happy

Robert Lynd

The average man who uses a telephone could not explain how a telephone works. He takes for granted the telephone, the railway train, the linotype, the airpl ane, as our grandfathers took for granted the miracles of the gospels. He neithe r questions nor understands them. It is as though each of us investigated and ma de his own only a tiny circle of facts. Knowledge outside the day's work is rega rded by most men as a gewgaw. Still we are constantly in reaction against our ig norance. We rouse ourselves at intervals and speculate. We revel in speculations about anything at all — about life after death or about such questions as that which is said to have puzzled Aristotle,“why sneezing from noon to midnight wa s good, but from night to noon unlucky. ” One of the greatest joys known to man is to take such a flight into ignorance in search of knowledge. The great pleasur e of ignorance is, after all, the pleasure of asking questions. The man who has lost this pleasure or exchanged it for the pleasure of dogma, which is the pleas ure of answering, is already beginning to stiffen. One envies so inquisitive a man as Jewell, who sat down to the study of physiology in his sixties. Most of us have lost the sense of our ignorance long before that age. We even become vain of our squirrel's hoard of knowledge and regard increasing age itself as a schoo l of omniscience.We forget that Socrates was famed for wisdom not because he was omniscient but because he realized at the age of seventy that he still knew not hing.

盐

亨利·凡·戴克

本文节选自亨利·凡·戴克1898年6月在哈佛大学发表的著名演说《盐》。

“你们是世上的盐。”《马太福音》，5：13。

这是个平凡而且发人深省的比喻。盐可以用来调味，又可以用来清洁、防腐。盐是一种奢侈品，像某位伟大的法国才子所称颂的那样是“头等必需品”。在人类历史刚刚开始的时候，盐就被认为有很高的价值，并开始在山洞和海滩采集它。盛产盐的国家曾被视为富国。在原始部落里，一袋盐比一个人还要珍贵。犹太人尤其珍视盐，因为他们居住的地方气候炎热，很难储藏食物。此外，他们的宗教特别强调清洁，在向上帝献祭时需要用大量的盐。

当基督对他的门徒说“你们是世上的盐”时，选用了一个人们都熟悉的事物来做比喻。他用这个比喻来说明他认为众门徒应该肩负的使命和应该发生的影响。他们到世上来就是要净化、美化他们所生活的世界，使它免于腐败，给人们的生活以清新的、健康的气息。他们的作用不是消极的，而是积极的。他们活动的范围是当下的生活，他们不必把盐省下来带到天国去，那里不需要盐。盐的使命是渗入、调剂与净化尘世的事物。

……

Salt

Henry Van Dyke

“Ye are the salt of the earth.” Matthew 5: 13.

This figure of speech is plain and pungent. Salt is savory, purifying, prese rvative. It is one of those superfluities which the great French wit defined as “things that are very necessary”. From the very beginning of human history men have set a high value upon salt and sought for it in caves and by the seashore. The nation that had a good supply was counted rich. A bag of salt, among the bar barous tribes, was worth more than a man. The Jews prized it especially, because they lived in a warm climate where food was difficult to keep, and because thei r religion laid particular emphasis on cleanliness, and because salt was largely used in their sacrifices.

Christ chose an image which was familiar, when He said to His disciples, “Ye are the salt of the earth. ” This was His conception of their mission, their in fluence. They were to cleanse and sweeten the world in which they lived, to keep it from decay, to give a new and more wholesome flavor to human existence. Their function was not to be passive, but active. The sphere of its action was to be this present life. There is no use in saving salt for heaven. It will not be ne eded there. Its mission is to permeate, season, and purify things on earth…

择友

佚名

好友胜于财富，因为财富买不到基本的品德，而正是这些基本品德使人们之间的交往成为一件幸事。最好的朋友就是比我们更睿智、更出色的人，我们可以被他的智慧和美德所激励，从而使我们的行为更加高尚。他们才智比我们更杰出，情操比我们更高尚，从而能使我们在精神和道德的境界得到提高。

“观察一个人所结交的朋友，就可以知道他是什么样的人”这句话总是对的。高层次的交友对于性情的培养特别有力。在交往中，性情对于性情的影响胜过其他一切因素。近朱者赤，近墨者黑，这一事实告诉人们，在年轻时代，择友甚至比选择老师和监护人更为重要。

不可否认的是，有些朋友总是我们无法选择的。有些人是由于生意和各种社会关系的缘故被硬塞给我们的。我们没有选择他们，我们也不喜欢他们，但是我们必须或多或少地跟他们交往。如果我们坚守内心的原则，承受一些压力，这样的经历并非完全没有补偿。但总的来说，朋友可以选择，也必须选择。如果没有事先的掂量或明确的目的，一个年轻人就随便与张三、李四或王五交往，那是不妥当、不必要的。一些确定的交友之道应该被遵守。这一点应放在思想最重要的位置，并时时检点自己。

无论是有益的或者有害的友谊，都是一种教育；无论对男对女，它都可以滋养高尚或卑微的人格；它可以使灵魂升华，也可以使之堕落；它可以滋生美德，也可以催生邪恶。它的影响没有折中之道。友谊，如果使人高尚，就会使人如天使般庄重；如果使人堕落，就会使人如魔鬼般邪恶。它可以有力地拯救一个人，也可以轻易地毁掉一个人。世上没有什么比这更确定无疑的事了。播种美德，收获的就是美德；播种邪恶，收获的就是邪恶。好的朋友可以帮助我们播种美德，坏的朋友促使我们播种邪恶。

Choice of Companions

Anonymous

A good companion is better than a fortune, for a fortune cannot purchase tho se elements of character which make companionship a blessing. The best companion is one who is wiser and better than ourselves, for we are inspired by his wisdom and virtue to nobler deeds. Greater wisdom and goodness than we possess lifts us higher mentally and morally.

“A man is known by the companion he keeps. ” It is always true. Companionship of a high order is powerful to develop character. Character makes character in the associations of life faster than anything else. Purity begets purity, like begets like; and this fact makes the choice of companions in early life more imp ortant even than that of teachers and guardians.

It is true that we cannot always choose all of our companions. Some are thru st upon us by business and the social relations of life. We do not choose them, we do not enjoy them; and yet, we have to associate with them more or less. The experience is not altogether without compensation, if there be principle enough in us to bear the strain. Still, in the main, choice of companions can be made, and must be made. It is not best or necessary for a young person to associate wi th “Tom, Dick and Henry” without forethought or purpose. Some fixed rules about the company he or she keeps should be observed. The subject should be uppermost in the thoughts, and canvassed often.

Companionship is education, good or bad; it develops manhood or womanhood, h igh or low; it lifts the soul upward or drags it downward; it ministers to virtu e or vice. There is no half way work about its influence. If it ennobles, it doe sit grandly; if it demoralizes, it does it devilishly. It saves or destroys lus tily. Nothing in the world is surer than this. Sow virtue, and the harvest will be virtue. Sow vice, and the harvest will be vice. Good companions help us to so wvirtue; evil companions help us to sow vice.

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:39:00

专心

乔治·埃勒迪斯·雷德尔

乔治·埃勒迪斯·雷德尔（1865—1934），英国记者，新闻事业家。他在本文中对于成功的秘诀——专心作了深入浅出的描述。

有些人的成功常常让周围的人大惑不解，因为他们似乎从来没有工作，或者没有持续很长时间地工作。他们的成功秘密在于能够专心，因而能够凭借最低限度的明显努力获得最高限度的成果。爱默生说：“无论是在政治中、战争中、商业中，还是在一切人类事务的处理中，专心都是成功的秘诀。”

专心是心灵的一种习惯。在专心的能力方面，人们并非生来完全相同，就像在玩台球的能力方面，大家也不是生来完全相同。但是，每个人都可以把自己的能力朝着某个方向提高到某种程度。现在是一个专家的时代。要切记，专心不仅对于做事情来说是必需的，对于选择要做什么样的事情时也的必需的。在当今这个时代，一个人如果不能专心于某一件事情，就不可能取得卓越的成就。

我们必须记住，对那些还没有习惯于专心的人们，专心真是一项使人心力交瘁的事情。所以，不要把专心的紧张状态继续太久，应该在适当的时候把注意力松弛一下。也就是说，专心的习惯是要逐渐养成的。在第一天，可以聚精会神地专心一刻钟，然后逐渐增加，到月底时可以延长到每天两小时或两小时以上。专心最重要的是把心灵的全部力量集中于当前正在从事的工作上面。在身心疲乏的时候，一个人不能非常圆满地做到这一点。而对于儿童和年轻人来说，持续太久的努力对他们还会有所伤害。

Concentration

George Allardice Riddell

The success of some men bewilders those around them because they never seem to work, or to work for any length of time. Their secret is their power to conce ntrate, and thus to obtain the maximum of result with the minimum of apparent ef fort. “Concentration”, says Emerson, “is the secret of success in politics, in war, in trade, in short in all the management of human affairs. ”

Concentration is a habit of mind. Men are not born equal in their power of c oncentration any more than in their power of playing billiards. But up to a poin t every one can improve his powers in every direction. This is the age of specia lists. Remember that concentration is necessary not only to do things, but to se lect what to do. In these days no one can achieve great distinction unless he co ncentrates on some one thing.

It must be remembered that concentration is an exhausting mental and physica l business for those who are unaccustomed to it. Therefore, to begin with, thes train should not be too prolonged. Attention should be relaxed for a suitable pe riod. In other words the habit should be gradually formed. Brisk, vigorous conce ntration for a quarter of an hour on the first day may be gradually expanded into two hours or more at the end of a month. The essence of concentration is that the full powers of the mind should be centered on the task in hand. A tired mind and body cannot accomplish this to the best advantage, and in the case of child ren and young persons harm may result from too prolonged efforts.

飞蛾之死

弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙

……

然而，虽然他很小，却是一种很简单的能量形式。这种能量从打开的窗口纷至沓来，深入到我自己和他人头脑里无数狭小复杂的角落，所以他身上有着某种可悲而神奇的东西。好像有人取来一小滴生命原汁，极其灵巧地为他装上羽翼，叫他来回穿梭飞舞，向我们展示生命的实质。这种展现十分奇特，叫人难以忘怀。望着他弓腰驼背，受人差遣，被人装扮，身负重荷，不得不特别小心特别庄严地飞舞，你会忘记一切。另外，你如果想想他生成另一种样子会怎么生活，就会带着一种怜悯来看待他简单的活动。

过了一会儿，他显然飞累了，落在阳光下的窗台上。奇怪的场面一结束，我也就把他忘了。后来，我抬起头，目光又被他吸引住了。他想重新飞舞，但显得很僵硬，很笨拙，只能飞到窗格底下；想飞到窗格上面却没有飞成。我因为注意旁的事情，一时间看到这种种徒劳的举动也没去细想，下意识地等着他重新飞起来，就像一台机器一时停了，等着它再启动一样，也不去考虑它停机的原因。大概试飞了7次以后，他在木质窗台上滑了一下，扇动着翅膀，背着地落到窗沿上。他那无可奈何的样子引起了我的注意。我突然想到他遇到麻烦了。他自己爬不起来；双腿徒劳地挣扎着。但是，我伸出铅笔想帮他翻身的时候，才想到他飞不动、身体笨拙，是快要死了。我又把铅笔放下。

他的腿又抽搐了一下。我抬起头来，仿佛要寻找他与之战斗的敌人。我朝门外望去。怎么回事？想必到了中午，田里没有人干活。静谧与安宁代替了先前的喧闹。白嘴鸦飞到河里觅食去了。马儿一动不动地站着。但是那种力量依然聚集在外面，冷冷冰冰，对什么都不闻不问，似乎它在与这个干草色的飞蛾作对。做什么都没用，只能眼睁睁地望着小飞蛾的两条细腿在厄运即将来临之际乱踢乱蹬。如果愿意，厄运会淹没整个城市，不光是一座城市，还有大批大批的人；我知道什么也逃不了一死。然而，精疲力竭的飞蛾停了一会儿，又开始蹬腿，这最后的反抗非常精彩，十分激烈，终于他翻过身来。人的同情心自然都是向着生命的。而且，虽然没有人在意，没有人知道，这个微不足道的小飞蛾还是拼命地与这么巨大的力量抗争，保存别人看不起也不愿保留的东西，此情此景会给你一种奇特的感动。同时，你不知怎么又会看到生命，一滴纯粹的生命。我又拿起铅笔，虽然我知道不管用。但就在我拿着铅笔的时候，死亡的迹象已经明白无误地表现出来。飞蛾的身体松弛下来，立刻又僵硬了。抗争结束了。现在微不足道的小生物死了。我打量着死飞蛾，是强大的力量打败这么卑微的对手，轻易取得了小小的胜利，这不能不让我惊讶。几分钟以前，生命令人奇怪，而现在，死亡同样令人奇怪。现在飞蛾翻过身来，体面安详地躺着，没有一丝怨言。是啊，他似乎在说：死亡比我强大。

The Death of the Moth

Virginia Woolf

…

Yet, because he was so small, and so simple a form of the energy that was ro lling in at the open window and driving its way through so many narrow and intri cate corridors in my own brain and in those of other human beings, there was som ething marvelous as well as pathetic about him. It was as if someone had taken a tiny bead of pure life and decking it as lightly as possible with down and feat hers, had set it dancing and zigzagging to show us the true nature of life. Thus displayed one could not get over the strangeness of it. One is apt to forget all about life, seeing it humped and bossed and garnished and cumbered so that it has to move with the greatest circumspection and dignity. Again, the thought of all that life might have been had he been born in any other shape caused one to view his simple activities with a kind of pity.

After a time, tired by his dancing apparently, he settled on the window ledge in the sun, and the queer spectacle being at an end, I forgot about him. Then, looking up, my eye was caught by him. He was trying to resume his dancing, but seemed either so stiff or so awkward that he could only flutter to the bottom of the windowpane; and when he tried to fly across it he failed. Being intent on o ther matters I watched these futile attempts for a time without thinking, uncons ciously waiting for him to resume his flight, as one waits for a machine, that has stopped momentarily, to strut again without considering the reason for its fa ilure. After perhaps a seventh attempt he slipped from the wooden ledge and fell , fluttering his wings, on to his back on the windowsill. The helplessness of his attitude roused me. It flashed upon me that he was in difficulties; he could no longer raise himself; his legs straggled vainly. But, as I stretched out a pen cil, meaning to help him to right himself, it came over me that the failure and awkwardness were the approach of death. I laid the pencil down again.

The legs agitated themselves once more. I looked as if for the enemy against which he struggled. I looked of doors. What had happened there? Presumably it was midday, and work in the fields had stopped. Stillness and quiet had replaced the previous animations. The birds had taken themselves off to feed in the brook s. The horses stood still. Yet the power was there all the same, massed outside indifferent, impersonal, not attending to anything in particular. Somehow it was opposed to the little hay coloured moth. It was useless to try to do anything. One could only watch the extraordinary efforts made by those tiny legs against an oncoming doom which could, had it chosen, have submerged an entire city, not merely a city, but masses of human beings; nothing, I knew, had any chance again st death. Nevertheless after a pause of exhaustion the legs fluttered again. It was superb this last protest, and so frantic that he succeeded at last in righti ng himself. One's sympathies, of course, were all on the side of life. Also, whe n there was nobody to care or to know, this gigantic effort on the part of an in significant little moth; against a power of such magnitude, to retain what no one else valued or desired to keep, moved one strangely. Again, somehow, one saw l ife, a pure bead. I lifted the pencil again, useless though I knew it to be. But even as I did se, the unmistakable tokens of death showed themselves. The body relaxed, and instantly grew stiff. The struggle was over. The insignificant little creature now knew death. As I looked at the dead moth, this minute wayside tr iumph of so great a force over so mean an antagonist filled me with wonder. Just as life had been strange a few minutes before, so death was now as strange. The moth having righted himself now lay most decently and uncomplainingly composed. Oyes, he seemed to say, death is stronger than I am.

《海鸥乔纳森·利文斯顿》节选

理查德·贝奇

理查德·贝奇曾是一位飞行员，参加过二战，后从事写作。本文节选自他的寓言体小说《海鸥乔纳森·利文斯顿》。

大多数海鸥只要学会最简单的飞行本领就行了——怎样从岸上飞出去觅食，再飞回来。对多数海鸥来说，重要的不是飞，而是吃。可是，对于这只海鸥而言，重要的是飞，而不是吃。海鸥乔纳森·利文斯顿喜爱飞行胜于其他一切。

他发现自己的这种思想不会受到同类欢迎。他整天独自练习飞行，做几百次低飞滑翔，连他的父母都为此感到灰心。

比如，他自己也不知道为什么，只要他飞翔在离水面不到翼展一半的高度时，他在空中停留的时间就会更长，用的力气也更小，这样他就不需要用脚朝下溅落海中的一般方式落水，而可以两脚呈流线型紧贴身体，在水面上留下长而平滑的波纹，然后落水。他在沙滩上滑翔着陆时开始用两脚紧贴身体的方法，然后步测在沙面上滑行的长度。他的父母见了，也实在不知怎么办才好。

“怎么啦，乔恩!怎么啦？”他母亲问道，“难道像别的海鸥那样就这么难吗，乔恩？低飞是鹈鹕和信天翁的事，你为什么学这个？你怎么不吃东西呢？孩子，你都瘦得皮包骨头了。”

“我不在乎瘦得像皮包骨头，妈妈。我只是想知道，当我在空中时能做什么，不能做什么，就是这样，我只是想了解而已。”

“你瞧，乔纳森，”他父亲亲切地说，“冬天快来了，船只要减少了，海面上的鱼也要往深处游了。如果你一定要学，那就学学觅食吧。飞行这种事虽然好，可你不能拿滑翔当饭吃吧。别忘了，你飞行的目的就是为了觅食。”

乔纳森顺从地点点头。以后几天，他尽量学其他海鸥的样子，他真的这么做了，他同鸥群一起，围绕着码头和渔船，尖叫着争夺食物吃，扎到海里，抢点碎鱼和面包渣。可这对他行不通。

他有意把好不容易才弄到的一条鲤鱼扔给一只追逐他的饥饿的老海鸥。他想，这真没意思，我可以用这些时间来学飞行。有很多东西需要学习!

……

“这儿为什么没有那么多的海鸥呢?呃，在我原来住的那个地方有”

“…… 我知道有成千上万只海鸥。”沙利文摇摇头，“乔纳森，我惟一知道的答案是，你是万里挑一的好鸟儿。我们中间的大多数都是姗姗来迟。大多数鸟儿从一个世界进入另一个几乎完全相同的世界，立刻就忘了是来自哪里，也不在乎到哪里去，只顾眼前。你是否知道，要初步领悟生活中比充饥、战斗、争权更重要的事，我们要经过多少次生活经历吗？乔，要经过一千次一万次呢!然后还要经过一百次，才能领悟到，存在着尽善尽美这样的东西。然后再经过一百次，才会认识到，追求尽善尽美就是我们生活的目的，使之彰明昭著……”

Excerpts from “Jonathan Livingstone Seagull”

Richard D. Bach

Most gulls don't bother to learn more than the simplest facts of flight — h ow to get from shore to food and back again. For most gulls, it is not flying that matters, but eating. For this gull, though, it was not eating that mattered, but flight. More than anything else, Jonathan Livingston Seagull loved to fly.

This kind of thinking, he found, is not the way to make one's self popular w ith other birds. Even his parents were dismayed as Jonathan spent whole days alo ne, making hundreds of low level glides, experimenting.

He didn't know why, for instance, but when he flew at altitudes less than ha lf his wingspan above the water, he could stay in the air longer with less effort. His glides ended not with the usual feet down splash into the sea, but with long flat wake as he touched the surface with him feet tightly streamlined again st his body. When he began sliding in to feet up landings on the beach then pac ing the length of his slide in the sand, his parents were very much dismayed ind eed.

“Why, Jon, why?” his mother asked. “Why is it so hard to be like the rest of the flock, Jon? Why can't you leave low flying to the pelicans, the albatross ? Why don't you eat? Son, you're bone and feathers! ”

“I don't mind being bone and feathers, mom. I just want to know what I can do in the air and what I can't, that's all. I just want to know. ”

“See here, Jonathan, ” said his father, not unkindly. “Winter isn't far awa y. Boats will be few, and the surface fish will be swimming deep. It you must st udy, then study food, and how to get it. This flying business is all very well, but you can't eat a glide, you know. Don't you forget that the reason you fly is to eat?"

Jonathan nodded obediently. For the next few days he tried to behave like the other gulls; he really tried, screeching and fighting with till flock around the piers and fishing boats, diving on scraps of fish and bread. But he couldn't make it work.

It's all so pointless, he thought, deliberately dropping a hard won anchovy to a hungry old gull chasing him. I could be spending all this time learning to fly. There's so much to learn!

…

“Why aren't there more of us here? Why, where I came from there were…”

“…thousands and thousands of gulls. I know. ” Sullivan shook his head. “Th e only answer I can see, Jonathan, is that you are pretty well a one in a mil lion bird. Most of us came along ever so slowly. We went from one world into ano ther that was almost exactly like it, forgetting right away where we had come from, not caring here we were headed, living for the moment. Do you have any idea how many lives we must have gone through before we even got the first idea that there is more to life than eating, or fighting, power in the Flock? A thousand l ives, Jon, ten thousand! And then another hundred lives until we began to learn that there is such a thing as perfection, and another hundred again to get the i dea that our purpose for living is to find that perfection and show it forth…"

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:39:19

河之歌

威廉·S 毛姆

沿着整条河都可以听见歌声。它洪亮而有力度，那是船夫，他们划着木船顺流而下，船尾翘得很高，船边系着桅杆。这也许是比较急促的号子。那些纤夫拉着纤逆流而上，如果拉的是小木船，也许就只要五六个人，如果拉的是要过急滩的扬着横帆的大船，就要二百多人。一个汉子站在船中央不停地击鼓助威，引导他们加劲。于是他们用尽全身的力量，像着了魔似的，腰弯成两折，有时力量要全部用完了就全身趴在地上匍匐前进，就像田里的牲口。他们用力，拼命用力，对抗着水流无情的威慑之力。领头的在纤绳前后不停地奔跑，见到有人没有用尽全力，就用竹板打他的光背。每个人都必须竭尽全力，否则就要前功尽弃。就这样他们还是唱着激昂热烈的号子，那汹涌澎湃的河水号子。我不知道用怎样的词语才能描写出这其中的拼搏，它体现除了紧绷的心弦，几乎要断裂的筋肉，同时也体现了人类以顽强的精神克服着无情的自然力。虽然绳子可能扯断，大船可能倒退，但险滩最终能通过，在结束筋疲力尽的一天之后，可以痛快地吃上一顿饱饭……

然而最让人难受的却是苦力的歌，他们背着从船上卸下的大包，沿着陡坡爬上城墙。他们不停地来回地上下，和着没有尽头的劳动响起有节奏的喊声：嗨，哟—— 嗨，哟。他们赤脚裸背，脸上的汗水不断地向下流。他们的歌是痛苦的呻吟，失望的叹息，让人听来心碎不已，简直不像是人的声音。这是在无尽的悲凉中的呼喊的灵魂，只不过配上了有节奏的音乐而已。那终曲简直就是人性泯灭的低泣。生活如此艰难、如此残酷，这喊声正是最后绝望的抗议。这就是河之歌。

The Song of the River

William S. Maugham

You hear it all along the river. You hear it, loud and strong, from the rowe rs as they urge the junk with its high stem, the mast lashed alongside, down the swift running stream. You hear it from the trackers, a more breathless chant, a s they pull desperately against the current, half a dozen of them perhaps if the y are taking up a sampan, a couple of hundred if they are hauling a splendid junk, its square sail set, over a rapid. On the junk a man stands amidships beating a drum incessantly to guide their efforts, and they pull with all their strengt h, like men possessed, bent double; and sometimes in the extremity of their trav ail they crawl on the ground, on all fours, like the beasts of the field. They s train, strain fiercely, against the pitiless might of the stream. The leader goe s up and down the line and when he sees one who is not putting all his will into the task he brings down his split bamboo on the naked back. Each one must do hi s utmost or the labour of all is vain. And still they sing a vehement, eager cha nt, the chant of the turbulent waters. I do not know how words can describe what there is in it of effort. It serves to express the straining heart, the breakin g muscles, and at the same time the indomitable spirit of man which overcomes the pitiless force of nature. Though the rope may part and the great junk swing ba ck, in the end the rapid will be

蚯蚓

佚名

世界各地都可以发现蚯蚓，它们有助于建造世界，它们有助于土地长出人类所需的粮食。你觉得这种说法很奇怪吗？

现在，让我们来看看蚯蚓是怎么做到这些的吧。蚯蚓生存于地下，它们在地下钻来钻去，把泥土钻成一条条蜿蜒而长的孔道，如同街道一般。那些“长廊”或者“隧道”可以使泥土松弛，所以有利于植物的根部生长。

这些孔道也有助于空气轻易地透进泥土里面。蚯蚓在泥土里不停地钻来钻去，就如同人们在地面上用耙子、铲或犁来掘松泥土一样。

蚯蚓首要的工作还是使土壤更加肥沃。当它们建造房子的时候，总是让自己长长的身体蘸满泥土，并带到地上，堆成小堆，这就是人们所叫的蚯蚓粪。在每天早上或下雨之后，你都可以在花园的小径上发现有蚯蚓粪。

每年都有成千上万的蚯蚓在忙碌工作着，它们每年可以挖动数以吨计的泥土。它们用嘴使泥土疏松并使之变得肥沃。那些本来是硬如坚石的土壤，经它们钻动之后就变得肥沃而富饶了。

The Earthworm

Anonymous

Earthworms are found in all parts of the world. They help to build the world. They help to prepare the earth to bring forth the food of man. Do you think th at very strange?

Now let us see how this is done. The worms live underground. They make long, winding halls, like streets, some inches below the top soil. The halls or littl e tunnels help to keep the earth loose, so that the fine roots of the plants can grow well in it.

These tunnels also serve to help the air move more easily through the soil. By their constant motion below the surface the worms till the earth, as rakes, s pades, or ploughs till it above.

The chief work of the earthworms is to enrich the soil. When they make their houses, they fill their long bodies with the earth, and carry it to the top of the ground. There they pile it in heaps, called worm casts. Early in the day or after a rain you can find these worm casts over all the garden paths.

There are so many worms busy all the time that each year they bring up tons of earth. They make the earth fine and loose by pinching it off with their mouth s. Fields once stony and hard have become rich and fine.

人与自然

汉密尔顿·怀特·马堡

汉密尔顿·怀特·马堡（1846—1916），美国著名批评家、散文家。人与自然的关系是人们永远关注的主题，马堡也不例外，他在本篇中对人与自然关系的阐述，让我们获益匪浅。

从地球上出现人类开始，人与自然之间的亲密关系也随之诞生，而且不断地被发扬光大，这种关系每一世纪都比以前变得更为明智而深远。所以，我们求助于自然，并把自然视为人类的最年长和最有影响力的老师。从某一个观点来看，自然曾一度是我们的监工，现在却变为我们的奴仆。但从另一个观点来看，自然一直是我们的最忠实的朋友、教导者和启发者。这种和谐紧密的关系，如果仅仅是少数人的特权，而大多数人并不能享有，那便会在人们心目中引发一种神秘和情趣。但是事实上，这种亲密关系是被天下所有的人共享的，这就使那和谐紧密的关系失去神秘和情趣。对于少数人来说，这种关系在每个时代都充满了奇妙和美好；对于多数人来说，这种关系只是理所当然的一件事。天空照耀着每一个人，但是只有在少数人的心目中具有一种变化多端的壮丽，他们在每一个午夜的天空都能看出一种蕴含着创造性的能力的庄严肃穆之美，不论那种景象重复多少次，都不会使那种美模糊不清。如果星辰每一千年才照耀一次大地，人们将怀着敬畏尊崇的心情凝视那种美景，而那种美景如果夜夜在全世界的上空出现，不但不会减损，反而更为增加它的奇妙。同样，基于相同的原因，我们对于夏日天空的那种由浮云聚散飘忽所形成的一日之间千变万化的纤巧秀丽或壮丽动人的景色，也都漠然置之。海洋的神秘、恐怖和韵律，有助于医疗疲惫心灵和烦躁精神的森林所具有的奥妙和慑人魂魄的魔力；在其幽深之处保有光与大气之奥秘的山峦所呈现的庄严肃穆之美；从不模仿或重复、永远以一种出人意表的新鲜的美丽来冲击人类想像力的风景变幻无穷——谁能感受到这些奇异景物的全部力量，或者能从它们那里得到它们所赐予的健康、快乐和丰美呢？

Man and Nature

Hamilton Wright Mabie

The intimacy between man and Nature began with the birth of man on the earth , and becomes each century more intelligent and far reaching. To Nature, theref ore, we turn as to the oldest aim most influential teacher of our race; from one point of view once our task master, now our servant; from another point of vie w, our constant friend, instructor and inspirer. The very intimacy of this relat ion robs it of a certain mystery and richness which it would have for all minds if it were the reward of the few instead of being the privilege of the many. To the few it is, in every age, full of wonder and beauty; to the many it is a matt er of course. The heavens shine for all, but they have a changing splendor to th ose only who see in every midnight sky a majesty of creative energy and resource which no repetition of the spectacle can dim. If the stars shone but once in a thousand years, men would gaze, awe struck and worshipful, on a vision which is not less but more wonderful because it shines nightly above the whole earth. In like manner, and for the same reason, we become indifferent to that delicately beautiful or sublimely impressive sky scenery which the clouds form and reform, compose and dissipate, a thousand times on a summer day. The mystery, the terror , and the music of the sea; the secret and subduing charm of the woods, so full of healing for the spent mind or the restless spirit; the majesty of the hills, holding in their recesses the secrets of light and atmosphere; the infinite vari ety of landscape, never imitative or repetitious, but always appealing to the im agination with some fresh and unsuspected loveliness;— who feels the full power of these marvelous resources for the enrichment of life, or takes from them all the health, delight, and enrichment they have to bestow?

扫帚把上的沉思

乔纳森·斯威夫特

乔纳森·斯威夫特(1667—1745)，英国18世纪杰出的讽剌文学作家，也是著名的散文家。他在本篇中由扫帚把联想到人生，文笔幽默，发人深省。

请看看这根扫帚把，它现在灰溜溜地躺在偏僻的角落，而以前我曾在树林里碰见过它，那时它风华正茂，汁液充沛，枝叶繁盛。如今它完全变了样，却还有人自作聪明，想靠人类的手工同大自然竞争，拿来一束枯枝捆在它那早已干瘪的身上，结果是枉费心机，不过颠倒了它原来的位置，使它枝干朝地，根梢朝天，成为一株头朝下的树，然后落在干脏活累活的女仆们的手里使用。从此它受命运的摆布，把别人打扫干净，而自己却变得又脏又臭，在女仆们手里折腾多次之后，最后被扔出门外，或者作为引火的柴禾被投进火里。

目睹了这一切，我不禁叹息一番，自言自语道：人不也是一根扫帚把么？当大自然刚把他送到人间时，他是强壮而有力的，精力充沛，头上是满头黑发。如果把人比作一株有理性的植物，那就是枝繁叶茂。但是，没过多久，酒色就如同一把斧子，砍掉了他的青枝绿叶，只留给他一根枯枝。于是他赶紧求助于人工，戴上扑满香粉的假发，并以之为荣。要是我们这把扫帚也这样登场，由于把一些别的树条收集到身上而得意洋洋，其实这些树条上尽是尘土，即使是最高贵的夫人的房里的尘土，我们一定会笑它是如何虚荣吧！我们就是这种偏心的审判官，偏向于自己的优点、别人的毛病！

或许你会说，一根扫帚把不过象征着一棵头冲下的树而已，那么请问：人又是什么？不也是一个颠倒的动物吗？他的兽性总是骑在理性的背上，他的头去了该脚应去的地方，总是在土里趴着。可是尽管有这么多毛病，他还自命为天下的改革家、除弊者、伸冤者，把手伸进人世间每个藏污纳垢的角落，扫出来一大堆从未暴露过的脏物，把原来干净的地方弄得尘土满天，非但没扫走脏物，还把自己弄得满身污垢。到了晚年，他又变成女人的奴隶，通常是一些最不堪的女人，直到他被折磨得只剩下一根枯枝，于是他也像他的扫帚老弟一样，或者是被扔出门外，或者是被拿来生火，用于温暖别人了。

A Meditation Upon a Broom Stick

Jonathan Swift

This single Stick, which you now behold ingloriously lying in that neglected corner, I once knew in a Flourishing State in A Forest, it was full of Sap, ful l of Leaves, and full of Boughs; but now, in vain does the busie Art of Man pret end to Vye with Nature, by tying that wither'd Bundle of Twigs to its sapless Tr unk; 'tis now at best but the Reverse of what was, a Tree turn'd upside down, th e Branches on the Earth, and the Root in the Air; 'tis now handled by every Dirt y Wench, condemn'd to do her Drudgery, and by a Capricious kind of Fate, destin' d to make other Things Clean, and be Nasty it self: At Length, worn to the Stumps in the Service of the Maids, 'tis either thrown out of Doors, or condemn'd to its last use of kindling Fires.

When I beheld this, I sigh'd, and said within my self, Surely Man is a Broom Stick; Nature sent him into the World Strong and Lusty, in a Thriving Conditio n, wearing his own Hair on his Head, the proper Branches of this Reasoning Veget able, till the Axe of Intemperance has lopt off his Green Boughs, and left him a wither'd Trunk: He then flies unto Art, and puts on a Peruque, valuing himself upon an Unnatural Bundle of Hairs, all cover'd with Powder that never grew on hi s Head; but now should this our Broom Stick pretend to enter the Scene, pround of those Birchen Spoils it never bore, and all cover'd with Dust, tho'the Sweepi ngs of the Finest Lady's Chamber, we should be apt to Ridicule and Despise its Vanity, Partial Judges that we are! of our own Excellencies, and other Men's Faults.

But a Broom stick, perhaps you'll say, is an Emblem of a Tree standing on i ts Head; and pray what is Man, but a Topsyturvy Creature, his Animal Faculties p erpetually a Cock Horse and Rational; His Head where his Heels should be; grov eling on the Earth, and yet with all his Faults, he sets up to be an universal R eformer and Corrector of Abuses, a Remover of Grievances, rakes into every Slut' s Comer of Nature, bringing hidden Corruptions to the Light, and raises a mighty Dust where there was none before, sharing deeply all the while, in the very sam e Pollutions he pretends to sweep away: His last Days are spent in Slavery to Wo men, and generally the least deserving; 'till worn to the Stumps, like his Broth er Bezom, he's either kickt out of Doors, or made use of to kindle Flames, for o thers to warm Themselves by.

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:39:36

天人合一

拉尔夫·沃尔多·爱默生

拉尔夫·沃尔多·爱默生(1803—1882)，美国19世纪著名的思想家、散文家、演说家、诗人，超验主义的代表人物之一。他崇尚自然主义、强调个人价值，代表作有《论自然》、《美国学者》等。

从真正的意义上来讲，很少有成年人能够看得见自然。甚至很多人并没有真正看见太阳。至少，他们只有一种非常肤浅的视觉感受。太阳只能照亮成年人的眼睛，但对于孩子们来说，它还可以照进他们的心灵。对挚爱自然的人来说，内在和外在的感官可以真正地契合，就算已是成年，还依然保持着童稚之心。与天地交流，是他每天不可或缺的精神滋养。他们置身自然，任一种狂喜在全身流畅，真正的痛楚逃遁无形。自然说，他是我的孩子，尽管他有许多莫名的痛苦，但与我在一起，他将快乐无比。不仅仅是晴天和夏日，每一个时辰，每一个季节，自然都奉献着快乐，因为每一个时辰，每一个变化，从无声的正午到可怕的子夜，都暗合着不同的心境。自然就是一个大背景，上演喜剧或悲剧一样适宜。在身心爽朗的日子，空气就如同一杯醇美得令人难以置信的甜酒。踏着雪泥，走过平滑的广场，在光明与黑暗交合之际，伫立于云天之下，脑海中没有一丝期盼好运突然降临的杂念，欣欣然如入仙境。我几乎不敢想自己是多么快乐。

在森林中也同样如此，人们挣脱岁月的羁绊，如蛇蜕去它那羁绊自身的皮，无论处于人生的哪一个阶段，总是犹如稚子。在森林中，青春可以永驻，这是上帝的御苑，其中充溢着礼仪和圣洁，一年四季无论何时都装点得如同节日，在这里待上一千年也不会感到厌倦。置身森林，我们会再次对理性和信念充满向往。在这里，我不会感到任何痛苦的压迫——没有耻辱，没有不幸，而且这些缺憾是自然所无法修复的。站立在林中空地，我的思绪沐浴在快乐的空气中，宛如升入无垠的太空，一切卑微自私的想法都随风而去。我似乎化作一个透明的眼球，虽然无影无形，但却看到一切。宇宙之流在我周身循环，我成为上帝的一部分或一个粒子。此时此刻，最亲近的朋友的名字听起来也那么陌生，那么无足轻重。不管是同胞兄弟，还是点头之交的熟人，不管是主人，还是仆人，这一切都成了徒增烦扰的琐事。我对充盈勃发、无声无息的美顶礼膜拜。在旷野中，我发现了比城镇或村落更亲切、更贴近的东西。在宁静的风景中，尤其在遥远的地平线上，人们终于看到了像他的天性一样美好的东西。

Nature and Man in One

Ralph Waldo Emerson

To speak truly, few adult persons can see nature. Most persons do not see the sun. At least they have a very superficial seeing. The sun illuminates only the eye of the man, but shines into the eye and the heart of the child. The lover of nature is he whose inward and outward senses are still truly adjusted to each other, who has retained the spirit of infancy even into the era of manhood. His intercourse with heaven and earth becomes part of his daily food. In the presen ce of nature, a wild delight runs through the man, in spite of real sorrows. Nat ure says, he is my creature, and maugre all his impertinent griefs, he shall be glad with me. Not the sun or the summer alone, but every hour and season yields its tribute of delight; for every hour and change corresponds to and authorizes a different State of mind, from breathless noon to grimmest midnight. Nature is a setting that fits equally well a comic or a mourning piece. In good health, the air is a cordial of incredible virtue. Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles , at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration. Almost I fear to think how glad I am.

In the woods too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, is always a child. In the woods, is perpetual youth . Within these plantations of God, a decorum and sanctity reign, a perennial fes tival is dressed, and the guest sees not now he should tire of them in a thousan d years. In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befall me in life,— no disgrace, no calamity, which nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground,— my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space,— all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye ball. I am nothing. I see all. The currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God. The name of the nearest friend sounds then for eign and accidental. To be brothers, to be acquaintances,— master or servent, is then a trifle and disturbance. I am the lover of uncontained and immortal beauty. In the wilderness, I find something more dear and connate than in streets or villages. In the tranquil landscape, and especially in the distant line of the horizon, man beholds somewhat as beautiful as his own nature.

无垠的宇宙

布鲁斯·迈舍尔

布鲁斯·迈舍尔原为会计师，后因感于世人争相夺利之愚昧无知，转而专心研读宗教作品。这篇文章即是迈舍尔赞咏神恩，反思人类为政治斗争而自相残害的家喻户晓之作。

涌动的海水，就像是牧师在为地球上人类的海岸进行圣洁的洗礼。

——济慈

无论开心还是悲伤的时候，我都常会想到这两行诗。悲伤的时候我想到它，是因为根据诗中所描写的海水节奏得知，上帝永恒的耐心将通过大海这面镜子反射出来。无论城市或会议室里的人们有多么愚昧无知，海浪依然歌唱，唱着赞美诗。在成吉思汗之前他们就开始歌唱了，在原子弹时代之后，它们还会继续歌唱。那些想法使我高兴，所以我又低诵这两行诗，因为我心中充满了感激之情。

World Without End

Bruce Marshall

“The moving waters at their priest — like task of pure ablution round eart h's human shores…”

——Keats

I think often of these lines, both when I am sad and when I am glad. I think of them when I am sad, because their rhythm teaches me that the timeless patience of God is reflected in the mirror of the sea. Whatever the stupidities of men in cities or council chambers, the waves will always be in choir, chanting thei r psalm. They sang before Genghis Khan and they will still sing after the atom b omb. Those thoughts make me glad and I murmur the words again, because I am also grateful.

一棵树的启示

沃尔特·惠特曼

沃尔特·惠特曼(1819—1892)，美国19世纪最杰出的诗人，他的《草叶集》影响了一代又一代美国人，是19世纪以来世界文学中最伟大的长诗之一。本文是他所写的一篇日记体随笔。

我不会选那最大最独特的树来描绘。在我的面前，有我最喜欢的一棵树，那是一棵美丽的黄杨树，它很直，可能有90英尺那么高，最粗的地方直径达4英尺。它是如此的强壮！如此的富有生命力！如此的挺立在风雨中！又是如此无言而善谕！它所启示的泰然自若与生存本质与人生浮华的表象形成了如此鲜明的对比。可以说，一棵树也是有情感的，它富有生动的艺术性质，它也是英勇无畏的。它是如此天真，不会伤害任何东西，它又是那么原始粗野。它无言地存在着，用自己坚强而平和的宁静有力地斥责了风雨雷电以及人类——这个一碰到风吹草动就躲进房子里的没用的小东西。科学（或者更准确地说是半懂不懂的科学）对有关树精、树仙和会说话的树等想像嗤之以鼻。然而，即使树木不会说话，它们却与大多数的语言、文字、诗歌、训诫一样善谕，甚至比它们有过之而无不及。我敢断定那些古老的有关树精的联想是非常真实的，甚至比我们的大多数联想都更为深刻。（“把它砍下来”，骗人的游医这么说，然后保存在你身边。）请到树丛中或林地间坐下来，与无言的树木做伴，然后再把前面的那些话读一读、想一想。

人们从一棵树那里得到的启示——或者说大地、岩石以及动物赋予人们的最大道德教义，就是它们对于生存的内在本质的提示与观望者（或批评者）的推测和述说完全无关，与他的喜好与憎恶完全无关。一种疾患在我们每个人和我们大家的心间充斥着，渗透于我们的文学、教育、彼此对待（甚至自我对待）的态度之中，这便是对表面现象的喋喋不休，而对于人物、书籍、友谊、婚姻之合理的、逐渐增强的、经常存在的真实，亦即人类无形的本质和基础不予过问或几乎不加过问。还有什么疾患比这更糟糕、更普遍吗？

The Lesson of a Tree

Walter Whitman

I should not take either the biggest or the most picturesque tree to illustr ate it. Here is one of my favorites now before me, a fine yellow poplar, quites traight, perhaps 90 feet high, and four thick at the butt. How strong, vital end uring! How dumbly eloquent! What suggestions of imperturbability and being, as a gainst the human trait of mere seeming. Then the qualities, almost emotional, pa lpably artistic, heroic, of a tree; so innocent and harmless, yet so savage. It is, yet says nothing. How it rebukes by its tough and equable serenity as weathe rs, this gusty temper'd little whiffet, man that runs indoors at a mite of rain or snow. Science (or rather half way science) scoffs at reminiscence of dryad and hama dryad, and of trees speaking. But, if they don't, they do as well as mo st speaking, writing, poetry, sermons — or rather they do a great deal better. I should say indeed that those old dryad — reminiscences are quit as true as an y, and profounder than most reminiscences we get. (“Cut this out,” as the quac k mediciners say, and keep by you.) Go and sit in a grove or woods, with one or more of those voiceless companions, and read the fore going, and think.

One lesson from affiliating a tree — perhaps the greatest moral lesson anyh ow from earth, rock, animals, is that same lesson of inherency, of what is, with out the least regard to what the looker or (the critic) supposes or says, or whe ther he likes or dislikes. What worse—what more general malady pervades each and all of us, our literature, education, attitude toward each other, (even towa rd ourselves,) than a morbid trouble about seems, and no trouble at all, or hard ly any, about the sane, slow growing perennial, real parts of character, books, friendship, marriage — humanity's invisible foundations and hold together.

月亮的启示

佚名

“月盈则亏，晦则明。”

——中国古谚

这句中国的古语里有种平静的智慧，它最初是由佛教寺院中的一位和尚告诉我的，当时我在中国，这句话给我的印象很深。从那时起，每当我遭遇困难阻碍，或者遇到可能使我过于兴奋的成功或好运的时候，这句话对我的帮助很大，它使我保持镇定，泰然处之。这句话启示我们，不论痛苦或困难的时刻有多么黑暗，它们不会长久持续下去，我们因此会感到希望和宽慰；这句话同时也警示我们，财富、权力或鸿运当头的荣耀，都不过是过眼云烟，我们不必太放在心上。这个道理对个人如此，对于国家和政治领袖也是如此。这句谚语所提供的希望和警示，是整个人类历史经验的结晶。除此之外，我们从这句话里面还可以聆听到使宇宙保持平衡状态的法则与秩序的回声。

Lesson from the Moon

Anonymous

When the moon is fullest it begins to wane,

When it is darkest it begins to grow.

——Chinese Proverb

There is a calm wisdom in this old saying that impressed me when I heard it first from a monk of a Buddhist monastery in China. It has often, helped me to r etain a good measure of equanimity under stress and hardship as well as when some unexpected success or good luck might have made me too exuberant. There is hope and consolation in the sure knowledge that even the darkest hours of pains and troubles won't last: but also a warning against overrating the passing glories of wealth, power and great good fortune. A warning and a hope, not only for the individual, but also for governments, nations and their leaders, a brief summing up of all that history and human experience can tell us. And beyond all that we might hear in it an echo of the law and order that holds our universe in safe b alance.

在海边

雷切尔·卡森

雷切尔·卡森（1907—1964），美国海洋生物学家，也是位颇有成就的作家。这篇游记体散文是她在1955年的作品，表达了她对大自然美的深情和稍纵即逝的自然美的叹惜。她最伟大的作品是1962年出版的《寂静的春天》，该书对发动美国环境保护运动起了重要作用。

海岸是一个古老的世界。自从有地球和大海以来，就有这个水陆相接的地方。但人们却感觉它是一个总在进行创造、生命力顽强而又充沛的世界。每当我踏入这个世界，感觉到生物彼此之间以及每一生物与它周围环境之间，通过错综复杂的生命结构彼此相连的时候，我对它的美，对它的深层意蕴，都产生某种新的认识。

每当我想起海岸，就有一个地方因为它所表现出的独特美妙而占有突出的地位。那就是一个隐匿于洞中的水潭。平时，这个洞被海水所淹没，一年当中只有海潮降落到最低，以至低于水潭时，人们才能在这难得的短时间内看见它。也许正应如此，它获得了某种特殊的美。我选好这样一个低潮的时机，希望能看一眼水潭。根据推算，潮水将在清晨退下去。我知道，如果不刮西北风，远处的风暴不再掀起惊涛骇浪进行干扰，海平面就会落得比水潭的入口还低。夜里突然下了几场预示不祥的阵雨，一把把碎石般的雨点被抛到屋顶上。清晨我向外眺望，只见天空笼罩着灰蒙蒙的曙光，只是太阳还没有升起。水和空气一片暗淡。一轮明月挂在海湾对面的西天上，月下灰暗的一线就是远方的海岸——8月的望月把海潮吸得很低，直到那与人世隔离的海的世界的门槛。在我观望的时候，一只海鸥飞过云杉。呼之欲出的太阳把它的腹部映成粉色。天终于晴了。

后来，当我在高于海潮的水潭入口处附近站着时，四周已是瑰红色的晨光。从我立脚的峭岩底部，一块被青苔覆盖的礁石伸向大海的最深处。海水拍击着礁石周围，水藻上下左右地飘动，像皮面般滑溜发亮。通往隐藏的小洞和洞中水潭的路径是那些凸现的礁石。间或一阵强于一阵的波涛悠然地漫过礁石的边缘并在岩壁上击成水沫。这种波涛间歇的时间足以让我踏上礁石，足以让我探视那仙境般的水潭，那平时不露面、露面也只是一瞬间的水潭。

我就跪在那海苔藓铺成的湿漉漉的地毯上，向那些黑洞里窥探，就是这些黑洞把水潭环抱成浅盆模样，只见洞的底部距离顶部只有几英寸。真是一面天造明镜。洞顶上的一切生物都倒映在底下纹丝不动的水中。

在清明如镜的水底铺着一层碧绿的海绵。洞顶上一片片灰色的海蛸闪闪发光，一堆堆软珊瑚披着淡淡的杏黄色衣裳。就在我朝洞里探望时，从洞顶上挂下一只小海星，仅仅悬在一条线上，或许就在它的一只管足上。它向下接触到自己的倒影。多么完美的画面!仿佛不是一只海星，而是一对海星。水中倒影的美，清澈的水潭本身的美，这都是些转眼即逝的事物所体现的强烈而动人心扉的美——海水一旦漫过小洞，这种美便不复存在了。

At the Edge of the Sea

Rachel Carson

The shore is an ancient world, for as long as there has been an earth and se a there has been this place of the meeting of land and water. Yet it is a world that keeps alive the sense of continuing creation and of the relentless drive of life. Each time that I enter it, I gain some new awareness of its beauty and it sdeeper meanings, sensing that intricate fabric of life by which one creature is linked with another, and each with its surroundings.

In my thoughts of the shore, one place stands apart for its revelation of exquisite beauty. It is a pool hidden within a cave that one can visit only rarely and briefly when the lowest of the year's low tides fall below it, and perhaps from that very fact it acquires some of its special beauty. Choosing such a tide , I hoped for a glimpse of the pool. The ebb was to fall early in the morning. I knew that if the wind held from the northwest and no interfering swell ran in f rom a distant storm the level of the sea should drop below the entrance to the pool. There had been sudden ominous showers in the night, with rain like handfuls of gravel flung on the roof. When I looked out into the early morning the sky was full of a gray dawn light but the sun had not yet risen. Water and air were pallid. Across the bay the moon was a luminous disc in the western sky, suspended above the dim line of distant shore — the full August moon, drawing the tide to the low, low levels of the threshold of the alien sea world. As I watched, a gull flew by, above the spruces. Its breast was rosy with the light of the unrisen sun. The day was, after all, to be fair.

Later, as I stood above the tide near the entrance to the pool, the promise of that rosy light was sustained. From the base of the steep wall of rock on which I stood, a moss covered ledge jutted seaward into deep water. In the surge at the rim of the ledge the dark fronds of oarweeds swayed smooth and gleaming as leather. The projecting ledge was the path to the small hidden cave and its pool. Occasionally a swell, stronger than the rest, rolled smoothly over the rim and broke in foam against the cliff. But the intervals between such swells were lo ng enough to admit me to the ledge and long enough for a glimpse of that fairy pool, so seldom and so briefly exposed.

And so I knelt on the wet carpet of sea moss and looked back into the dark cavern that held the pool in a shallow basin. The floor of the cave was only a fewinches below the roof, and a mirror had been created in which all that grew on the ceiling was reflected in the still water below.

Under water that was clear as glass the pool was carpeted with green sponge. Gray patches of sea squirts glistened on the ceiling and colonies of raft coral were a pale apricot color. In the moment when I looked into the cave a little e lfin starfish hung down, suspended by the merest thread, perhaps by only a single tube foot. It reached down to touch its own reflection, so perfectly delineated that there might have been, not one starfish, but two. The beauty of the refle cted images and of the limpid pool itself was the poignant beauty of things that are ephemeral, existing only until the sea should return to fill the little cave.

good · 发表于 2017-8-7 08:40:08

在自然威力之下

埃德加·爱伦·坡

萧伯纳曾说：“美国出了两个伟大的作家——埃德加·爱伦·坡和马克·吐温。”埃德加·爱伦坡（1809—1849）以其诗歌、小说和文学评论广受推崇，对于美国文学乃至世界文学影响甚大。本文节选自其短篇小说《厄谢尔宅第的倒塌》。

那年秋天，一个天气阴沉、昏暗而又寂静的日子，低压的云层笼罩着大地。整整一天，我独自骑着马，在一条异常沉闷的乡间小路上行进；暮色降临时分，凄凉的厄谢尔宅第终于呈现在我眼前。但是，不知出于什么原因，第一眼望见这幢房子，我就被一种令人难以忍受的阴郁抓住了。我说难以忍受，是因为往常即使人们看到荒山野岭或其他令人生畏的自然景象时，也可能产生一些诗意，心中或许有几分快感，但此时此地的情景在我心中却丝毫引不起此种感情。我看着眼前的这番景象—— 宅第本身、房子周围单调的景象、光秃秃的墙壁、空空的圆窗、几丛杂乱的茅草、几株灰白的枯树——心情十分沮丧，这种沮丧，无法拿人世间的任何心情来比拟，除非把它比作过足鸦片烟瘾的人从梦幻中回到现实生活里的那种痛苦心情。我只觉心中一凉，往下一沉，异常难受。还有一种挥之不去的凄凉之感，无论如何也不能激起我的兴致。那么，究竟是什么——我停下来仔细思量——究竟是什么使我的心绪在凝望厄谢尔宅第时如此烦乱呢？这完全是一个无法解答的谜，在我思量的时候，脑海里充满了模模糊糊的想法，却无法弄得清楚明白。我只好用那个不能令人满意的解释来安慰自己——尽管一些非常简单的自然景物结合在一起，也具有影响我们的威力，但要仔细分析这种威力，却远在我们思考的深度之外。

Under the Power of Nature

Edgar Allan Poe

During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung up pressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length fo und myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I knew not how it was — but, with the first glimpse of the buil ding, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half pleasurable, because poetic,sent iment with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of t he desolate or terrible, I looked upon the scene before me — upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain, upon the bleak walls, upon t he vacant eye like windows, upon a few randy sedges, and upon a few white trunk s of decayed trees with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no e arthly sensation more properly than to the afterdream of the reveler upon opium; the bitter lapse into everyday life,the hideous dropping off of the veil. There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart, an unredeemed torture into ought of the sublime. What was it I paused to think what was it that so unnerve d me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? It was a mystery all insoluble; nor could I grapple with the shadowy fancies that crowded upon me as I pondered . I was forded to fall back upon the unsatisfactory conclusion, that while, beyo nd doubt, there are combinations of very simple natural objects which have the p ower of thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among considera tions beyond our depth.

风车

爱德华·凡尔拉莱·卢卡斯

爱德华·凡尔拉莱·卢卡斯（1868—1938），英国作家，散文家，毕业于伦敦大学，长期从事编辑、出版工作，同时致力于写作，是20世纪初期英国文坛的知名人士。

不久之前，一个偶然的机会曾使我成为一座风车的住客。但并不是真的住进去，而且说来遗憾，也不是进去磨点什么东西，只是兴致来时进去转了转，从它最顶的窗户遥望港口的船只，或者俯视周围的羊群和原野。这座风车又大又白——而且白得很厉害，每当雷雨云绕到它的背后时，整个风车就光亮得如同铝制的一样。

从风车的其他几个窗口往外看，你还可以看到另外的四个风车，这些风车和它一样，也都在闲置着。其中有一个已经破损得非常厉害，还有一个也只剩下了两个翅膀。但就在下一道山冈、远得望不见的东北方向，就有一座风车在那里欢快地转动着，另外由此再折向西北四五英里的地方，也有一个风车非常活跃。所以这个地方的情形还不至于像全国其他地方那么糟糕，任由阵阵好风从身边白白吹过……

一旦想起由于蒸气机以及工程师的聪明才智所带给英国的种种损失，人们总会把风车的衰落列为其中的第一项。也许如果只从景物的美观别致来说，英国所遭遇的最大不幸乃是锌镀铁屋顶的发明；不过，毕竟红色屋顶的美好也不只是安详富丽与舒适而已，但是转动着的风车不仅看起来美丽，而且非常浪漫：一个受制于自然的魔力但情愿为人类服务的温顺家伙，一个飞舞旋转的怪物或者往往是一个使人惧怕的东西。如果谁在风力正强的时候靠近一座风车轰鸣的翅膀，心里都会骤然紧张起来 ——那感觉就像人们在暴风雨中望见水浪冲击堤岸的情景一样。而此时待在风车里边的话，就能对声音的来历有些体会，因为这里就是声音的洞穴。当然有些孔洞中所发出的轰鸣声震耳欲聋，具有很大的威力，但风车的声音则大体来说是比较自然的，它们是木头与西南风搏斗时产生的，它充盈于人耳而不会震耳欲聋。而且这种效果并不因为没有风或者磨坊主人及其佣人的淡漠而有所减弱，这些人即使是在震耳欲聋的喧闹之下，也总是一副文静态度，如同教堂管事人一般有条不紊地办事。

当然，我进入的磨坊并没有如此喧闹，我只是偶尔听到那些冷落的车翼上的横木几声摆动罢了，一切都是如此寂静。更使人惆怅的是，一切又仿佛已完全就绪，就等着当天开工了。这个风车以前——大约几十年前——也曾是生气勃勃的，但是从那以后，它就永归沉寂，毫无生气，就像一条溪流在夜里突然遭遇封冻，或者像丁尼逊《睡美人》诗中的宫殿那样寂寞。这风车并没损坏——它只是失去了魂魄。风车上几个苹果木的榫子已从轮机上脱落了，地板上的木条也有几根烂掉了，但也仅是如此而已。只要一周的时间，就足以把这一切都修好。但永远没有这种可能了。因此，以前曾经使千千万万个英国风车一起欢舞的阵阵好风，而今也只能在英吉利海峡之上徒劳吹过。

The Windmill

Edward Verrall Lucas

Chance recently made me for a while the tenant of a windmill. Not to live in , and unhappily not to grind corn in, but to visit as the mood arose, and see th e ships in the harbour from the topmost window, and look down on the sheep and the green world all around. For this mill stands high and white — so white, inde ed, that when there is a thunder cloud behind it, it seems a thing of polished aluminium.

From its windows you can see four other mills, all, like itself, idle, and o ne merely a ruin and one with only two sweeps left. But just over the next range of hills, out of sight，to the north east, is a windmill that still merrily go es, and about five miles away to the north west is another also active; so that things are not quite so bad hereabouts as in many parts of the country, where t he good breezes blow altogether in vain…

Thinking over the losses which England has had forced upon her by steam and the ingenuity of the engineer, one is disposed to count the decay of the windmil l among the first. Perhaps in the matter of pure picturesqueness the most seriou s thing that ever happened to England was the discovery of galvanized iron roofi ng; but, after all, there was never anything but quiet and rich and comfortable beauty about red roofs, whereas the living windmill is not only beautiful but ro mantic too: a willing, man serving creature, yoked to the elements, a whirling monster, often a thing of terror. No one can stand very near the crashing sweeps of a windmill in half a gale without a tightening of the heart — a feeling com parable to that which comes from watching the waves break over a wall in a storm . And to be within the mill at such a time is to know something of sound's very sources; it is the cave of noise itself. No doubt there are dens of hammering en ergy which are more shattering, but the noise of a windmill is largely natural, the product of wood striving with the good sou' wester; it fills the ears rathe r than assaults them. The effect, moreover，is by no means lessened by the absen ce of the wind itself and the silent nonchalance of the miller and his man, who move about in the midst of this appalling racket with the quiet efficiency of ve rgers.

In my mill, of course, there is no such uproar; nothing but the occasional s haking of the cross pieces of the idle sails. Everything is still; and the pity of it is that everything is in almost perfect order for the day's work. The mil l one day — some score years ago — was full of life; the next, and ever after, mute and lifeless, like a stream frozen in a night or the palace in Tennyson's ballad of the ‘Sleeping Beauty.' There is no decay — merely inanition. One or two of the apple wood cogs have been broken from the great wheel; a few floor p lanks have been rotted; but that is all. A week's overhauling would put everythi ng right. But it will never come, and the cheerful winds that once were to drive a thousand English mills so happily now bustle over the Channel in vain.

林鸟

威廉·亨利·哈德逊

威廉·亨利·哈德逊（1841—1922），英国博物学家兼作家。自幼酷爱自然，尤其喜欢观察鸟类的生活习惯，他的散文清新自然，朴实亲切。

有很长的一段时间，我总是在攀登一座低矮宽阔的平顶小山。当我从灌木丛中脱身而出，又出现在一片空地时，我已身在一片平坦的高地，周围非常空旷，到处是石楠与荆棘丛生的地方，这中间偶尔也有几处稠密的冷杉与桦木之类的植物。在我面前以及高地的两侧，一眼望去，都是广袤的原野；地面上的景物有时会中断，但这蔚为大观的青葱翠绿却是连绵不断的，这可能跟最近降雨量的充沛有关。在我看来，南德文郡的绿色实在是很多的，但是它色调的柔和与亮度却过于单一。在领略这番景色之后，山顶上那些棕褐刺目的稀疏草木反而使人心情爽朗。这片石楠丛生之地宛如一片绿洲与趋避之地，我在这里漫游了很久，直到腿脚淋湿；然后我又坐下让它们晾干，就这样在那里度过了几个小时的愉快时光。让我高兴的是这里没有我们的同类前来打扰，然而，鸟类朋友却有很多。在小道附近的丛林中间，雄雉的啼叫声警告我，我已经进入了禁猎区。不过，禁猎并不严格，因为我所熟识的食腐肉的乌鸦正在那里为它的幼雏寻食。它低飞着穿过树梢间，从我身边掠过，随即逝去。在当下的季节，即早夏时期，当它飞起来的时候，人们是很容易将它与它的近亲白嘴鸭辨别开来。在觅食的时候，这种乌鸦在空中平稳而迅速地滑翔着，经常会改变方向，一会儿贴近地面，一会儿又飞升得很高，但它一般会保持着大概与树梢平齐的高度。它滑翔与转弯的动作看起来跟鲱鱼鸥相似，但在滑动的时候，翅膀会挺得直直的，那修长的尖端呈现出一种轻翘曲线。但它们之间最主要的区别还是飞行时头部的姿势不同。白嘴鸭像苍鹭与鹤那样，总是把它的利喙像长矛那样直挺挺地伸在前面。它飞翔的时候方向明确，毫不犹豫，它简直可说是跟着自己的鼻子尖在跑，绝不左顾右盼。而那寻觅肉食的乌鸦却不停地转动着它的头部，就像海鸥与猎狗那样，一会儿看这边，一会儿又看那边，仿佛正在彻底地搜查地面，或是睁大了眼睛盯着什么模糊的东西。

这个地方不仅有乌鸦，当我从草丛中走出来时，一只喜鹊正在鸣叫，只是不肯露面；过了一会儿，一只橙鸟也以它那独特的叫声向我鸣叫。对于这聒噪不已的警告和咒骂中所流露的那种心情，对于这受惊的鸟儿在看到生人侵入其林中净地时胸中突然而生的盛怒，我有时也有深深的同感。

这个地方有很多小鸟，好像这里的荒芜贫瘠对它们也有吸引力。各种山雀、鸣禽、云雀以及其他鸟类都正在到处忙着寻找栖息的地方，它们唱着各种各样的歌，时而来自树顶，时而来自地面，时而逼近，时而遥远；而随着歌唱者的或远或近，或上或下，也给这些歌声本身带来不同的特点，这样所产生的效果自然就是有千万种声调，非常丰富。唯有峋鸭始终停留在一个地方或保持一种姿势不变，歌声也总是重复着一个调子。尽管如此，这种鸟的鸣叫也并没有像人们所说的那样单调……

Birds

William Henry Hudson

For some time past I had been ascending a low, broad, flattopped hill, and o n forcing my way through the undergrowth into the open I found myself on the lev el plateau, an unenclosed spot overgrown with heather and scattered furze bushes, with clumps of fir and birch trees. Before me and on either hand at this elev ation a vast extent of country was disclosed. The surface was everywhere broken, but there was no break in the wonderful greenness, which the recent rain had in tensified. There is too much green, to my thinking, with too much uniformity in its soft, bright tone, in South Devon. After gazing on such a landscape the brow n, harsh, scanty vegetation of the hill top seemed all the more grateful. The h eath was an oasis and a refuge; I rambled about in it until my feet and legs wer e wet; then I sat down to let them dry and altogether spent several agreeable ho urs at that spot, pleased at the thought that no human fellow creature would in trude upon me. Feathered companions were, however, not wanting. The crowing of cock pheasants from the thicket beside the old road warned me that I was on prese rved grounds. Not too strictly preserved, however, for there was my old friend the carrion crow out foraging for his young. He dropped down over the trees, swe pt past me, and was gone. At this season, in the early summer, he may be easily distinguished, when flying, from his relation the rock. When on the prowl the cr ow glides smoothly and rapidly through the air, often changing his direction, no w flying close to the surface, anon mounting high, but oftenest keeping nearly on a level with the tree tops. His gliding and curving motions are somewhat like those of the herring gull, but the wings in gliding are carried stiff and strai ght, the tips of the long flight feathers showing a slight upward curve. But the greatest difference is in the way the head is carried. The rook, like the hero n and stork, carries his beak pointing lance like straight before him. He knows his destination, and makes for it; he follows his nose, so to speak, turning ne ither to the right nor the left. The foraging crow continually turns his head, g ull like and harrier like, from side to side, as if to search the ground thoro ughly or to concentrate his vision on some vaguely seen object.

Not only the crow was there: a magpie chattered as I came from the brake, bu t refused to show himself; and a little later a jay screamed at me, as only a jay can. There are times when I am intensely in sympathy with the feeling expressed in this earsplitting warning and execration, the startled solitary's outburst of uncontrolled rage at the abhorred sight of a fellow being in his woodland ha unt.

Small birds were numerous at that spot, as if for them also its wildness and infertility had an attraction. Tits, warblers, pipits, finches, all were busy r anging from place to place, emitting their various notes now from the tree tops, then from near the ground; now close at hand, then far off; each change in the height, distance, and position of the singer giving the sound a different charac ter, so that the effect produced was one of infinite variety. Only the yellow h ammer remained constant in one spot, in one position, and the song at each repet ition was the same. Nevertheless this bird is not so monotonous a singer as he is reputed…

雾

乔治·斯莱思·斯特里特

乔治·斯莱思·斯特里特（1867—1936），英国作家，散文家，是一个写小品文的能手。在本篇中，作者通过切身的体验，描述了他对世界闻名的雾都伦敦的感受。

无论它是美还是不美，一场伦敦大雾总是有值得大书特书的地方。它能给我们带来我们每时每刻都需要的那种“变化”。最初，这个世界几乎是白茫茫的一片，然后，慢慢地一点一点地清晰起来，这和我们平常所见完全不同。这时，就算是最愚蠢的人也不会察觉不到眼前的景物起了变化。这种变化之大，绝不亚于从伦敦到格拉斯哥。又比如，回到家里，或来到俱乐部，这种平凡单调的日常琐事，在雾天也几乎成为惊人的壮举，完成之后不免要深深地松一口气，自幸安全脱险——这时人们至少得到一种不同寻常的新鲜之感。这时我们已经不像是一个到俱乐部去玩的人，而像是一个航行遇险的海员在九死一生之际，终于得救，并且受到一群以前非常淡漠而这时却非常激动的侍者们的热烈欢迎。的确，一场迷雾带给伦敦人的变化非常之大，比起去里维埃拉避雾度假所带来的变化都要大。其次，雾还能使人的善良之心和喜悦之情充分表现出来，这是伦敦人引以为荣的两大特点。当然，它也会把富人的那种极度自私自利揭露出来。那些几乎是无忧无虑地活在世上的人，自然会因为这点小小不便或痛哭流涕，或咒骂不已。但是为生计奔波的伦敦人，比如那些马车夫和汽车夫，比如你和我，却会把我们那种欢快心情充分展现出来。某个星期一，我在海德公园拐角那个街区的的一辆公共汽车顶端乘坐过半个小时，一路上与司机攀谈。人们往往对一个汽车司机感到失望，因为他们认为他应该会说会骂，而他却没有这类长处。但是我们应该看到，这是个工作非常辛苦但却又非常快乐的人，非常勤快，服务周到，笑口常开。他在自己的工作上是个行家——这点在雾天最能突出——而他对工作的熟练程度很高，对于那种凭借经验，总以为从事实际行业的人往往不是愚蠢就是冒失，因而就其绝大多数都不称职的人士来说，总是一件快事吧。最后我离开他时，他的副手引我绕过车轮马蹄，一直把我送到人行道上，这时我有一种感觉，觉得我的周围的确都是好人。上周日的晚上，我曾步行一英里回到我的寓所，一路上，我每碰到一个人就向他问路。但是没有一个人给予粗鲁甚至简慢的回答：每个人都是彬彬有礼，俏皮风趣，谈古论今，有说有笑。我们这个民族确实是个友好的民族，能体会这一点，即使是遇上一次雾天，也是值得的。雾的另外一种乐趣，就如同我们听到某个百万富翁摔断了腿时所感到的那种乐趣相差无几，只是在性质上比较温和比较冲淡而已。那种命运特别好的人往往并不快乐，即使健康良好也不能把它驱除掉。在某个街区的一辆宽敞的布鲁厄姆马车上坐着一位派头十足的老头，他口吐白沫，大发雷霆。看到这个情景，人们不禁会想，在这件事上，命运总算暂时是公平的。

这些就是我们在一场伦敦的雾中所找到的一些乐趣。

Fog

G.S.Street

Beauty or none, there is much to be said for a London fog. It gives us all t hat “change” which we are always needing. When our world is all but invisible, and growing visible bit by bit looks utterly different from its accustomed self, the stupidest of us all can hardly fail to observe a change for our eyes at least as great as there would have been in going to Glasgow. When, arriving at one' s house or one's club; that monotonous diurnal incident seems an almost incredib le feat, accomplished with profound relief and gratitude for a safe deliverance, one has at least an unaccustomed sensation. One is not a man going into his clu b, but a mariner saved from shipwreck at the last gasp, to be greeted with emoti on by erst indifferent waiters. Yes, a fog gives Londoners a more thorough chang e than going to the Riviera to avoid it. Then it brings out the kindness and che erfulness, which are their prime claim to honour, into strong relief. True, it a lso throws into relief the incomparable egoism of the prosperous among them. Peo ple with no serious cares or worries in the world of course bemoan and upbraid t his trifling inconvenience. But the working, struggling Londoners, cabmen and bu smen, you and I, display our indomitable good humour to advantage. I stayed on top of a bus for half an hour in the block on Monday at Hyde Park Corner and tal ked with the driver. People are often disappointed in a bus driver because they expect a wit and a pretty swearer. They find neither, but they find an overwork ed man of extraordinary cheerfulness, responsive, ready to laugh. He is master o f his business—a fact emphasised by the fog — to a degree refreshing to one whose experience of men professing some practical calling is that the great majo rity, some from mere stupidity, some from over hasty enthusiasm, are quite inco mpetent. When finally I left him, his mate piloted me through wheels and horses to the pavement, and I felt I had been among folk who deserve to live. On Sunday night I walked a mile to my abode, and made a point of asking my whereabouts of every one I met. Not one churlish or even hurried answer: politeness, jokes, re miniscences, laughter. We are a kindly people, and it is worth a fog to know it. Another pleasure of a fog is a mild but extended form of the pleasure we feel when we hear that a millionaire has broken his leg, The too fortunate are sufferi ng a discontent health cannot remove. There was in that block a fat brougham co ntaining an important looking old man who foamed at the mouth, and one reflecte d that there was a temporary equality of fortunes.

Such are the pleasures we may take in a London fog.

一撮黏土

亨利·凡·戴克

很久以前，在一条河边有这样一撮黏土。说起来它也不过是普普通通的黏土，质地粗糙；不过它对自己的价值却看得很高，它对自己在世界上所可能占有的地位具有奇特的想像，认为只要能得到机会，自己的美德一定会被人们发现。

在这撮黏土的头顶，明媚的春光里，树木正在交头接耳地窃窃私语，讲述着当纤细的花儿和树叶开始绽放、林中一片澄澈碧绿时，它们身上所闪耀的无尽光辉，那种景象就如无数红绿宝石粉末所形成的彩云，轻轻地漂浮在大地之上。

花儿们看到这样的美景，非常惊喜，它们在春风的吹拂中探头欠身，相互祝贺：“姐妹们，你们出落得多可爱啊，你们给白日增添了不少光辉。”

河水也为新力量的加入而感到高兴。它沉浸在水流重聚的喜悦之中，不断地用美好的音调向河岸低语，倾诉着自己是如何挣脱冰雪的束缚，如何从积雪覆盖的群山奔流到这里，以及它匆忙前往担负的重任——许多水车的轮子等着它去推动，巨大的船舶等着它去运送。

那撮黏土懵懵懂懂地在河床上等待着，不停地用各种远大理想来自我安慰。“我的时运定将来到，”它说，“我不可能长久被埋没在这里。世上的光彩、荣耀，在一定的时候，肯定会降临到我的身上。”

有一天，黏土发现自己的位置被挪动了，它已经不待在原来长期等候的地方了。它被一个铲土的铁铲挖了起来，然后和别的泥土一起被装在一辆车上，沿着一条似乎坎坷的铺着石块的路，运送到一个遥远的地方。但是它没有害怕，也没有气馁，而只是在心里暗想：“这是必要的步骤，因为通往光荣的道路总是崎岖不平的。现在，我就要到世上去完成我那重大的使命了。”

虽然这段路途非常艰辛，但是比起后来所经受的种种痛苦和折磨却算不了什么。黏土被丢进一个槽子里面，然后经过一番搀和、捶打、搅拌、践踏，那过程真是不堪其苦。但它一想到某种美好崇高的事物一定会从这一番历练中产生，它就感到释然。黏土非常坚定地相信，只要它有足够的耐心去等待，它总有一天会得到回报。

接下来，它被放到一只快速旋转着的转盘上，团团旋转起来，那种感觉就像自己就要被甩得粉身碎骨了。在旋转之中，似乎有一种神力把它紧紧地揉捏在一起，因此，它虽然经历了头晕目眩的痛苦，但它觉着自己开始变成了一种新的形状。

然后它被一只陌生的手放进了炉灶。周围有熊熊烈火在燃烧——那可真是痛心刺骨啊——灼热的程度比盛夏时节河边最毒的太阳还要厉害很多。不过黏土始终十分坚强，经受了一切考验，挺了过来，并且对自己的伟大前途依然坚信不疑。它想：“既然他们对我下了这么大的功夫，那我肯定会有一番美好前程的。看来我如果不是去充当庙堂殿宇里的华美装饰，就是将成为帝王几案上珍贵的花瓶。”

在烘焙完毕之后，黏土被从炉灶中取出了出来，被放置在一块木板上面，让它在晴空之下、凉风之中慢慢冷却。既然经历了一番磨难，那离得到回报的日子也不太远了。

木板的旁边便有一泓潭水，水不深也不清，但水面上却波纹平静，能把潭边的事物如实地反映出来。当黏土被人从板上拿起的时候，它终于第一次看到了自己的新形状，这就是它历经千辛万苦后所得的回报，它的全部心愿的成果——只是一只很普通的花盆，线条粗糙，又红又丑。在这个时候，它才发现自己既不可能荣登帝王之家，也不可能进入艺术的殿堂，因为自己的容貌既不高雅也不华贵，于是它开始埋怨那位无名的制造者：“你为什么要把我塑造成这个样子？”

于是，它一连几天都闷闷不乐。接着它被装上了土，还有另外一件东西——它弄不清是什么，但灰黄粗糙，样子很难看——也被插到了土的中间，然后用东西盖上。这个新的屈辱激起了黏土的更大的不满：“我的不幸可以说是到了极点，被人用来装脏土垃圾了。我这一辈子算是没希望了。”

但是，不久之后，黏土又被人放进了一间温室，这里有和煦的阳光照射，还有人经常给它洒水。于是就在它一天天耐心等待的时候，有一种变化终于来到了。有种东西正在它体内萌动——莫非是希望重生？但它对此仍然不能理解，也不明白这希望意味着什么。

有一天，黏土又被人从原地搬起，送进了一座宏伟的教堂。它多年的梦想这次终于实现了。它在世上真的是有所作为的。这时，空中有阵阵音乐，周围有百花飘香。但它仍然不明白这一切。于是它就向旁边跟它一模一样的另一个黏土器皿悄声问道：“为什么我被他们放在这里，为什么所有的人都在向我们凝望？”那个器皿答说：“怎么，你还不知道吗？你现在身上正怀着一棵状如王杖的美丽百合。它的花瓣如同皎皎白雪，它的花心如同灿烂纯金。人们的目光之所以集中到这里，是因为这株花是世界上最了不起的，而它的根就在你的心里。”

这时黏土感到心满意足了，它暗暗地感激它的制造者，因为自己虽然只是一只普通泥土器皿，但里面装的却是一件无比珍贵的宝物。

A Handful of Clay

Henry Van Dyke

There was a handful of clay in the bank of a river. It was only common clay, coarse and heavy; but it had high thoughts of its own value, and wonderful dre ams of the great place which it was to fill in the world when the time came for its virtues to be discovered.

Overhead, in the spring sunshine, the trees whispered together of the glory which descended upon them when the delicate blossoms and leaves began to expand, and the forest glowed the fair, clear colors, as if the dust of thousands of ru bies and emeralds were hanging, in soft clouds, above the earth.

The flowers, surprised with the joy of beauty, bent their heads to one anoth er, as the wind caressed them, and said: “Sisters, how lovely you have become. You make the day bright.”

The river, glad of new strength and rejoicing in the unison of all its water s, murmured to the shores in music, telling of its release from icy fetters, its swift flight from the snow clad mountains, and the mighty work to which it was hurrying — the wheels of many mills to be turned, and great ships to be floate d to the sea.

Waiting blindly in its bed, the clay comforted itself with lofty hopes. “My time will come, ”

it said. “I was not made to be hidden forever. Glory and beau ty and honor are coming to me in due season. ”

One day the clay felt itself taken from the place where it had waited so long. A fiat blade of iron passed beneath it, and lifted it, and tossed it into a cart with other lumps of clay, and it was carried far away, as it seemed, over a rough and stony road. But it was not afraid, nor discouraged, for it said to its elf: “This is necessary. The path to glory is always rugged. Now I am on my way to play a great part in the world. ”

But the hard journey was nothing, compared with the tribulation and distress that came after it. The clay was put into a trough and mixed and beaten and sti rred and trampled. It seemed almost unbearable. But there was consolation in the thought that something very fine and noble was certainly coming out of all this trouble. The clay felt sure that, if it could only wait long enough, a wonderful reward was in store for it.

Then it was put upon a swiftly turning wheel, and whirled around until it se emed as if it must fly into a thousand pieces. A strange power pressed it and mo ulded it, as it revolved, and through all the dizziness and pain it felt that it was taking a new form.

Then an unknown hand put it into an oven, and fires were kindled about it — fierce and penetrating — hotter than all the heats of summer that had ever bro oded upon the bank of the river. But through all, the clay held itself together and endured its trials, in the confidence of a great future. “Surely, ” it thoug ht, “I am intended for something very splendid, since such pains are taken with me. Perhaps I am fashioned for the ornament of a temple, or a precious vase for the table of a king. ”

At last the baking was finished. The clay was taken from the furnace and set down upon a board, in the cool air, under the blue sky. The tribulation was pas sed. The reward was at hand.

Close beside the board there was a pool of water, not very deep, nor very cl ear, but calm enough to reflect, with impartial truth, every image that felt upon it. There for the first time, as it was lifted from the board, the clay saw it s new shape, the reward of all its patience and pain, the consummation of its ho pes — a common flower pot straight and stiff, red and ugly. And then it felt t hat it was not destined for a king's house, nor for a palace of art, because it was made without glory or beauty or honor; and it murmured against the unknown m aker, saying, “Why hast thou made me thus? ”

Many days it passed in sullen discontent. Then it was filled with earth, and something — it knew not what — but something rough and brown and dead lookin g, was thrust into the middle of the earth and covered over. The clay rebelled at this new disgrace. “This is the worst of all that has happened to me, to be f illed with dirt and rubbish. Surely I am a failure. ”

But presently it was set in a greenhouse, where the sunlight fell warm upon it, and water was sprinkled over it, and day by day as it waited, a change began to come to it. Something was stirring within it — a new hope. Still it was ign orant, and knew not what the new hope meant.

One day the clay was lifted again from its place, and carried into a great church. Its dream was coming true after all. It had a fine part to play in the world. Glorious music flowed over it. It was surrounded with flowers. Still it could not understand. So it whispered to another vessel of clay, like itself, close beside it, “Why have they set me here? Why do all the people look towards us?” And the other vessel answered, “Do you not know? You are carrying a royal scep ter of lilies. Their petals are white as snow, and the heart of them is like pure gold. The people look this way because the flower is the most wonderful in the world. And the root of it is in your heart. ”

Then the clay was content, and silently thanked its maker, because, though a nearthen vessel, it held so great a treasure.

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